Brazil's Black acting icon Milton Gonçalves plays the queen of Rio de Janeiro's drug dealers in this 1973 camp thriller that challenges the oppressive climate of the military dictatorship with plenty of feathers and lots of blood.

One day, Marina no longer recognises herself. Is she ill, a different person, prettier? Those around her take it in their stride, her doctor is puzzled, the authorities block her ID card. A gentle comedy that poses serious questions about the human face.

A visit to the employment office, practicing dance steps, making music with friends: several women’s everyday lives are captured in long shots and with a superb sense of place. A film like a summer’s day, bright, friendly, with the occasional chill.

Road trips through Los Angeles, famous verses in the Poetry Lounge and love in times of the pandemic: rendezvous with an old flame, 40 years later. After Jaurès (2012), Vincent Dieutre presents another tender autofictional piece in the Forum.

Nesrin and Erdem talk about their relationship, which they don’t remember in exactly the same way. Çevik’s visually stunning essay uses their conversations to forge a pensive treatise on what it means to forget, where word and image play an equal role.

After suffering a stroke, actor Hwaryeong is visited in hospital by her colleagues. With its garrulous film people and disparate relationships, this formally sparse film in elegant black and white comes across like a Hong Sangsoo fever dream.

The Berlinale Forum regularly presents films that deal with difficult subjects: with crimes against humanity, with violence, with complicity and responsibility. How can cinema approach these themes in an appropriate way?

Bombed-out streets, destroyed Russian tanks, evening meals in an Underground station repurposed into a shelter. Image by image, the directors push beyond easily reproducible images of war to enter the reality the country has experienced since February 24, 2022.