We use essential cookies to keep OyList working. With your permission, Google Analytics cookies help us count visits and understand which pages are useful.
86 minutes, BFI Player edition. Housework, flatmate disputes and awkward nights out give these vampires more trouble than the old supernatural mythology. The mock-documentary form lets each character expose a different kind of vanity, while elaborate practical jokes keep the household from becoming a single sketch. A strong compact comedy choice if you like the ridiculous grounded in mundane routines.
89 minutes. A man who stops caring about his office job exposes how much energy everybody else spends pretending to care. Mike Judge makes equipment, meetings and small managerial intrusions specific enough for the satire to outlast its technology. The supporting characters give this an easy repeat pleasure, although the fraud plot is less memorable than the workplace absurdity.
84 minutes. A college student's glamorous new acquaintance seems to turn every conversation into a business plan or a possible reinvention. Greta Gerwig's verbal momentum is the engine, and a later gathering lets the ensemble collide like a small theatrical farce. The quick pace leaves room for a sharp question about using someone else's life as material.
75 minutes. A girl's impulsive kindness draws her into a feline kingdom whose hospitality comes with a wedding she never agreed to. Hiroyuki Morita gives the escape a light, storybook pace, with the poised Baron providing a calm centre amid the absurdity. An appealing short adventure when you want Studio Ghibli's imaginative settings without the heavier emotional scale of its longer films.
87 minutes, BFI Player edition. Rehearsing a song at a piano gives two Dublin musicians a way to understand each other before they can explain much. The film lets making music carry both practical ambition and affection, with obligations outside the partnership keeping the connection believable. A satisfying short evening when collaboration sounds more inviting than romantic grand gestures.
81 minutes. Two brothers respond differently as their parents' marriage breaks apart, with borrowed opinions and private embarrassments making the family comedy increasingly uncomfortable. Noah Baumbach gives revealing details little time to soften into nostalgia. Choose it for brisk, precise character observation rather than reassurance that everybody will behave well.
89 minutes, BFI Player edition. Cornish fishing work and holiday-property money collide in images that feel scratched out of the place itself. Mark Jenkin's abrupt cuts and separately recorded sound make familiar exchanges strange, sharpening each dispute over who belongs and who gets to profit. The short duration concentrates the simmering hostility without reducing the village to a simple argument.
84 minutes. A carer's determination to save her patient's soul turns ordinary acts of concern into something harder to trust. Morfydd Clark keeps loneliness visible beneath Maud's certainty, while the coastal setting offers little comfort. The story gathers pressure efficiently, but sparse, fierce shocks and disturbing bodily imagery make this an intense choice.
81 minutes, BFI Player edition. Three student filmmakers' disagreement about the route becomes frightening long before the woodland noises acquire their full force. The limited view makes every turn of the camera consequential, and the lack of a clear monster leaves the imagination working. Its shortness helps sustain the ordeal; the shaking footage can be wearing for viewers prone to motion sickness.
79 minutes. A television crew's routine visit with firefighters becomes a desperate effort to understand an apartment building after its doors are sealed. The camera's restricted view gives panicked movement an immediate purpose, while each new floor changes what the group thinks it knows. Choose the Spanish original for compact, bloody escalation rather than a leisurely mystery.
82 minutes. A deaf writer's remote home becomes a series of practical problems when a masked intruder arrives. Mike Flanagan keeps track of sightlines, tools and the effort of communicating without making his heroine's decisions disappear behind the premise. The clear physical geography gives this violent home-invasion thriller a satisfying sense of progression.
86 minutes. A stranded surfer can see the shore but cannot safely cover the remaining water. Blake Lively's resourcefulness makes the tiny distance feel like a substantial story, with tides, injuries and improvised tools changing her options. It is a streamlined, sometimes gruesome creature thriller whose attraction is watching one person solve the next immediate problem.
82 minutes. Repeated preparation, exacting service and the complicated place of a son in his father's restaurant make this sushi documentary more than a procession of beautiful food. David Gelb finds tension inside apparently settled expertise. The limited world suits the length: watching the same task improve slightly becomes a story about work, inheritance and expectation.
84 minutes. Older Italian hunters and their dogs search for truffles in a world whose quiet routines coexist with a lucrative market. Carefully composed scenes make friendship, secrecy and bargaining unexpectedly funny. Its modest span leaves a distinct community and its changing pressures in view, with affection that comes through observing how the people work together.
89 minutes 34 seconds, UK cinema version. A beekeeper's care for her colony is tested when new neighbours bring different demands into her isolated North Macedonian life. The camera stays close enough to make work, family duty and resource pressure inseparable. It is an absorbing documentary with the tension of a drama, and its concentration gives each small change room to hurt.
79 minutes. Istanbul's street cats lead the camera towards the people who feed, watch and worry about them. Moving between feline routes and human routines keeps the film lively, while individual caretakers turn a charming premise into a portrait of informal community. A good short documentary for an evening when small acts of attention sound restorative.
67 minutes, restored silent version. Dziga Vertov turns a city waking and working into an experiment in how film can see. Split screens, changing speeds and playful editing make streets, factories and spectators feel newly active. This restored silent presentation is a lively older discovery, with the pleasure coming from movement and visual invention rather than a conventional story.
85 minutes, Netflix release. Daily dives into a South African kelp forest turn an octopus's changing behaviour into a story you can follow closely. The underwater photography makes camouflage, hunting and vulnerability unusually legible. Craig Foster's personal narration is prominent, so choose this for an intimate human perspective on animal observation, with natural predation alongside the wonder.
82 minutes, Criterion edition. Agnès Varda follows people who collect what others leave behind, then lets her own camera become part of the inquiry. Food, discarded objects and passing encounters connect questions of waste with a playful attention to age and filmmaking. Its roaming form feels generous within a small span, offering discoveries rather than a single case to prove.
73 minutes, Criterion edition. A camping trip gives two old friends time to discover how differently their lives have developed. Forest sounds, awkward conversation and shared quiet carry the feeling, with little insistence on a dramatic confrontation. Kelly Reichardt makes the modest duration a virtue: a few shifts in proximity can suggest a whole history of affection and distance.
80 minutes. A young woman's search for her missing dog exposes how little room a precarious life leaves for another setback. Michelle Williams makes small practical decisions absorbing, and Kelly Reichardt lets a shop, a car and brief encounters reveal the surrounding economy. The story is spare, but its attention to dependence and kindness leaves a full emotional impression.
82 minutes. A child introduces themself differently to the neighbourhood children after moving home, and games, friendships and small negotiations make the identity question immediate. Céline Sciamma keeps close to the children's perspective without turning every interaction into a lesson. Its economical summer story gives uncertainty room while making the emotional stakes easy to feel.
76 minutes, Criterion edition. Two young women decide to behave as badly as the world around them in Věra Chytilová's gleeful Czech experiment. Banquets, colour changes and chopped-up images make the rebellion a physical comedy as much as a provocation. This is a concise older discovery for viewers who want energy and surprise, with no expectation of a tidy conventional plot.
83 minutes, Criterion edition. A nurse caring for an actress who has stopped speaking finds her own need to talk becoming increasingly exposed. Ingmar Bergman's faces, pauses and ruptures in the image make the encounter feel larger than its small cast and setting. The brevity intensifies rather than simplifies it, so choose this for concentrated psychological uncertainty.
![[REC]](/api/storage/image/6ae124fde58455183806d3f4/LOW)
