Set in Tehran and mostly in Persian (like Asghar Farhadi’s stronger A Separation), writer/director/producer Maryam Keshavarz’s French/American/Iranian co-production strives to make political points about modern Iran but ultimately fudges them, winding up a forced study of an improbable situation that, rather unforgivably, occasionally looks like something from the Playboy Channel.

Atafeh (Nikohl Boosheri), beloved daughter of well-to-do parents, is close to Shireen (Sarah Kazemy), who’s suffering after the death of her trouble-making, intellectual parents, and this bond develops into full-blown teenage love and semi-obsession in scenes that play out with heavy-handed soft-focus/core groping or fantasy sequences where the two get away to Dubai for relationship hi-jinx, nightclub hoofing and lots of snogging. However, while Atafeh’s Mum and Dad seem oblivious to the girls’ affections, her older brother Mehran (Reza Sixo Safai) is less blind, especially when he catches the pair gyrating about as they sing along to a TV talent show version of (gulp!) Total Eclipse Of The Heart, and soon he’s ranting about morality while engaging in such prurient activities as setting up spy-cams to catch them at it, therefore obtaining proof of their ‘trash’ status.

The eccentric crime drama Cold Fish is a stylistic collage, melding the grotesque, absurd, solemn with black humour. Like Bong Joon-ho’s excellent thriller The Mother, this Japanese-language film explores psychological weakness through eccentricity and expressionism, although Shion Sono’s film is less successful, both narratively and visually.

Mitsuru Fukikoshi is Nobuyuki Syamoto, a sad-sack fish store owner with a young wife and teenage daughter. After meeting with the thriving Yukio Murata (Denden), Syamoto becomes involved with a murder plot that threatens his ordered existence.

Although the film’s psychological portrait eventually interests, the filmmakers are a little indulgent in the film’s opening. There are too many monotonous sequences representing Syamoto’s emotional turmoil, giving little context to the black, almost-savage humour of the film’s later stretches. This is not to say that the film (or every film) needs to clarify its story early, but some level of irony, subtext or drama would have enlivened these dry stretches of the story.

This is a very moving and cumulatively engrossing story, which could in lesser hands have been merely sentimental. The titular kid is 11-year-old Cyril ( Thomas Doret ), who has been consigned to a state-run group home .

Cyril's weak and callous father has abandoned him, selling his bike in the process, but the poor little tyke refuses to see reality -- or is incapable of it. Doret is phenomenally good as the desperate kid , and it is his complex and uncannily expressive performance which drives the film. Perhaps it's this portrayal which clinched its Jury Prize at Cannes.

In the course of his frantic attempt to track down his father Guy (Jeremie Renier), Cyril latches on -- quite literally -- to the big-hearted hairdresser Samantha ( Cecile de France ), who kindly agrees to let him stay at her place on weekends. Unfortunately, Samantha is very much an odd one out among the gaggle of adults with whom Cyril must contend. Worst of the lot is a reptilian thug and alleged dope-dealer called Wes ( Egon di Mateo ), who grooms him with flattery, charm and attention -- implicitly recognising that the boy is a sitting duck just waiting for a surrogate father-figure. In no time, Wes inveigles Cyril into playing Oliver to his latterday Fagin.

A select group of Australian fans were recently given a chance to view not only the new trailer to Sony Pictures' re-launched Spider-Man franchise, but some additional footage from the movie with a pre-filmed introduction from director Marc Webb. Managing Director of Sony Pictures Australia, Stephen Basil-Jones, led the proceedings announcing that The Amazing Spider-Man featured "a new director, new stars and a new story", before making the aside that those in attendance "probably know more than I do" about the Marvel Comics character.

Instead Basil-Jones complimented Webb's abilities as a director, noting how 500 Days of Summer demonstrated a great feel for contemporary story and youth, as well as praising star Andrew Garfield's turn as Eduardo Saverin in The Social Network. Emma Stone was also singled out for praise with Basil-Jones proclaiming her a superstar in the making. With the notable absence of character Mary Jane from the picture, previously played by Kirsten Dunst in the Sam Raimi iterations of the franchise, Basil-Jones described Stone's character Gwen Stacy as a confidante of Peter Parker's, who knows of his double-life as the masked vigilante.

It was a telling aspect of the film to stress, as the character of Gwen Stacy has only briefly appeared in previous Spider-Man movies. Sony is attempting to emphasise just how different this retelling of the story is, given that it is only ten years since Sam Raimi's film was released.

The trailer itself, as well as the additional footage screened, outlines that intent quite clearly. The web-slinging hero was shown to be a dab hand at the mid-battle banter and mockery of his opponents, an essential aspect of the comic book version and sorely lacking from Raimi's take. His scientific abilities – including designing the web-dispensers that allow him to swing from the city roof-tops – are back, once again a call back to the comics instead of the organic web-shooters. While this should make the purists happy, what is also interesting about the new film is the role of Peter Parker's parents and their connection to the villain of the piece – the Lizard, played by Rhys Ifans.

As I enter the door of the Westin hotel I am swept into a football style crowd of bustling bodies, bumping into Rebecca Gibney, thrusting her onto the red carpet. Flash lights blaze, someone takes my photo, only to lower the camera seconds later when they realise I am in fact, nobody important.

This is the first ever Australian Academy of Cinema and Television Arts (AACTA) awards luncheon, the prelude to the main event, to be held at the Sydney Opera House on January 31.

Seated at table 8 – not quite table 21 but obviously not in the top 5 – I find an artistic seafood stack at my table and a bunch of friendly nominees. As I finish my entrée and get to know my table mates, a nice young lady comes over and informs everyone they are being moved to table 2 – everyone but me. Shortly after the table is reset, I receive a fresh plate of prawns and a new bunch of filmmakers, nominated for their short animation film, The Missing Key. “Do you think you’re going to win?” I ask, “Or is it just an honour to be nominated?” Sensing his response will end up in this blog, the producer implies the latter.

Brad Bird’s Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol opens with a bang, or – more accurately – a bang then a whisper. The opening scene features a terse, elegantly staged foot-chase between an IMF agent (Josh Holloway) and several terrorist hoods, a sequence given the extra oomph and large-scale grandeur of the IMAX format. Later, Bird cuts to the more familiar figure of Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) in a Russian jail, and his elegant escape with the help of tech-wiz Benji (Simon Pegg), and fellow agent Jane (Paula Patton). The chase is intensely edited and framed, with emphasis on sustained tension and eventual release: the jailbreak is a loose and laidback affair (scored with Dean Martin’s ‘Ain't that a Kick in the Head?’), highlighting Ethan’s grace and sophistication under pressure. The juxtaposition between these two sequences is clear, however: although this remains a Cruise vehicle, Ghost Protocol is a more team-based film than the others in the series.

Bird and his collaborators deserve praise for the remarkable elegance and surprising restraint of Ghost Protocol. Whereas Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull suffered from narrative bloat, Ghost Protocol is easily the tightest film in the series, with a strong focus on Hunt’s ambiguity and the team’s pro-activeness. Bird – an animation director (Ratatouille, The Incredibles) – may not have aimed particularly high with his debut live-action film, but he succeeds in stylish and satisfying entertainment, which is more than can be said for other entries in the series.

The Asia Pacific Screen Awards (APSA) is an event with all the glamour of the Oscars, on a local scale. The Awards focus on the Asia Pacific region and reward excellence in filmmaking, acting, direction and writing. Now in its fifth year, the ceremony is held on the Gold Coast and is less about competition than it is about honouring creative talent in the industry. All of the nominees are seated together on stage and rather than being awarded trophies, they are given a glass vessel, which is a one of a kind sculpture that reflects the individual creative voices of each filmmaker.

These exquisite vessels have been hand crafted by Brisbane artist Joanna Bone. They are organic and fluid and incorporate her reflections on the colour and culture of Asia-Pacific. Joanna drew much of her inspiration from the natural beauty of Queensland such as the patterns and colours of the fish and corals within the Great Barrier Reef.

The first performance of the evening was the international debut of Yao Qifeng, a ten-year-old Chinese ballet dancer. Qifeng is the subject of a documentary, chronicling her passion for dance; for nearly two years she would practice her dancing in a public square, regardless of the weather. Her family struggled financially, so she danced in broken ballet slippers on a piece of carpet. She shared the stage with Queensland Ballet’s Rachael Walsh in a beautiful performance choreographed by Francois Klaus.

With its picturesque scenery and relaxed lifestyle, Launceston (which boasts a large and very active film society), lends itself admirably to a film festival.

From November 23-27, the charming refurbished industrial heritage site, the Inveresk precinct, will be abuzz with film enthusiasts and Australian cinematic luminaries, in a feast of film, exhibitions, master classes and Q&As, for locals and visitors from interstate, and even overseas (this writer is aware of a couple who have travelled from France!)

The weather is beautiful, the locals are warm and welcoming, and the stunning location is small enough to allow out-of-towners a relaxed amble from their hotels, across the bridge, to the Inveresk precinct: the home of the Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery (known as QVMAG). With its convenient cluster of venues, and modern and comfortable screening facilities, the Inveresk precinct is the ideal location for a film festival. There’s no dashing about furiously from session to session, as all cinemas are located within a small radius, requiring no more than an easy stroll.

The Fantastic Asia Film Festival in Melbourne promised to deliver the most exciting, unique and out-there films from the Asian continent. It is fitting then that they kicked off their first ever year with Helldriver, the latest from Japanese splatter maestro Yoshihiro Nishimura (Tokyo Gore Police); a zombie action film filled to the brim with dark humour and excessive gore.

The plot, as if you really need one, is straightforward: a section of Japan gets overrun by zombies and walled off following a meteor strike. The government recruits Kika, a schoolgirl with a chainsaw katana powered by the diesel engine transplanted into her chest, to hunt down the zombie leader, her own psychotic mother. The setup is minimal and Nishimura gets it out of the way quickly to concentrate on over-the-top, insane action sequences where pretty much any lunatic idea for carnage he can come up with is thrown at the screen.

As Kika slices and dices her way through the zombie hordes, the blood flows thick and fast; the sheer amount of arterial sprays which literally paint the camera red make a film like Peter Jackson’s Braindead seem like a family movie in comparison. Nishimura is not subtle in his approach, attempting to top himself in excessiveness with every passing minute; just when you think the movie cannot go any more over the top, along comes yet another body part severed in spectacular fashion.

On Day 7 of BIFF, I was treated to one of the most inspiring, hopeful documentaries you'll see on screens anywhere this year, Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey, from directors Constance Marks and Philip Shane. For anyone who's ever yearned to perform, this documentary following the rise of puppeteering superstar Kevin Clash, voice of Elmo and Sesame Street kingpin, will delight, amuse, and give you that warm, fuzzy feeling (no felt needed).

From his early days growing up in a poor area of Baltimore, staring in awe at the TV and wondering how his favourite shows and puppets were made (Captain Kangaroo and Sesame Street among them), Clash showed a prodigious skill in both hand-crafting puppets and feverishly learning the techniques that would make him one of the best living puppeteers of today.

Being Elmo features some wonderful interviews with greats Frank Oz, Joan Ganz Cooney, as well as a host of Muppet Show and Sesame Street legends and celebrity fans: rounding off the package with exclusive archive footage of the Jim Henson workshop and Sesame Street set. If this documentary has achieved anything of equal greatness to Kevin Clash's talent, it is showing how much of his heart and positive energy he puts into Elmo, who is essentially adored worldwide because of one man's combination of tenacity, genius, and pure joy for living.