Kofi Anane

Twenty nine minutes and about nine of them are on a motorbike, shot from angles that suggest a crew that either did not have permits or did not care. The traffic sequence is genuinely thrilling and genuinely dangerous looking. My worry is what a full series does with a character this thin. Right now he is a physical performance and a jacket.

A film about a night that will not end, made by somebody who knows that the sun coming up is not automatically hopeful. The two long walking shots are the spine of it. I would have cut the phone call. Everyone I have argued with about this film says the phone call is their favourite part, so I concede nothing but I note the pattern.

I have programmed this twice and both times the room went completely still at the roadside scene. It plays. That is not a small thing for a fifteen minute film with no plot to speak of. Anane understands that a city at three in the morning is not empty, it is just working a different shift.

Fifteen minutes and the sound mix is the best thing on this platform. Generators, a distant church, somebody's phone playing a song badly through a small speaker, and underneath all of it a low hum that never resolves. When the actual music finally arrives at minute eleven it is almost a relief and almost unbearable. I listened again on headphones with the picture off.