Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 263: Mon Sep 21

On the Silver Globe (Żuławski, 1988): Garden Cinema, 2.30pm

The film will feature a video introduction by writer Adam Żuławski.

Andrzej Żuławski’s sprawling lunar futurist epic, a dark and delirious allegory on civilisation and original sin is a haven of futurist worldbuilding, hemmed in by Magdalena Tesławska’s ornate, baroque costume design. Famous for its long, troubled and repeatedly thwarted production, On the Silver Globe was finally immortalised in its incomplete state in 1988, with supplemented scenes of contemporary Poland that further a jarring juxtaposition to the story’s otherworldly alien landscapes. 

Film Comment review extract (full analysis here):
Even with this extra self-reflexive layer, it’s hard to make claims for On the Silver Globe as a great film or even, by conventional criteria, a good one. It’s excessive in so many ways—so grandiose, so hysterical, so utterly earnest. Yet it’s a film you should see, on the big screen if possible, because it’s such a spectacular anomaly—because its sheer will to strangeness is so furiously unrestrained. In its poetic and philosophical aspirations, in its outrageous maximalism, in its utter disregard for the normal prerogatives of pleasing an audience, this is the sort of film that by rights should not even exist. On the Silver Globe is not just a film maudit, but a genuine example of that small but exalted category of films you might call “Impossible Cinema,” in which I’d include other massive visionary projects either completed or aborted: Andrei Rublev; the landscape epics of Miklos Jancsó; Jodorowsky’s unmade Dune, as well as his earlier completed films; Aleksei German’s Hard to Be a God (similar to Silver Globe in its mix of primitivism and futurism); and the supposedly forthcoming Dau, a long-gestating Russian epic of already-legendary don’t-hold-your-breath status.
Jonathan Romney 

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 262: Sun Sep 20

Queen Kelly (Von Stroheim, 1929): BFI Southbank, NFT1, 2.30pm

This special screening will be introduced by film critic and historian Pamela Hutchinson who will be signing copies of her book The Curse of Queen Kelly in the BFI Southbank Foyer following the film. There will be a live piano accompaniment by Neil Brand. The long-awaited restoration and reconstruction of the surviving nitrate reels of Queen Kelly, based on Von Stroheim’s original scripts, with added stills and titles, was undertaken by longtime friends of the BFI, Dennis Doros and Amy Heller of Milestone Films.

Chicago Reader review:
Erich von Stroheim’s 1928 film was the last that he would be allowed to sign, yet it, too, survives only in a fragmentary version. The story of a convent girl who is romanced by a prince but ends up as the mistress of an African bordello, it was intended to run for five hours, but producer Joseph P. Kennedy (who financed the film as a showcase for his close friend Gloria Swanson) turned off the money at the midway point, and the film was released in a truncated 70-minute version. (Two reels of the African footage, shot but never incorporated into the original prints, were discovered some years ago and spliced into the present 101-minute version.) Though it’s far from coherent, Queen Kelly is one of Stroheim’s most provocative works, not just in terms of its extravagant subject matter but in the aesthetic shift it suggests between the fierce realism of Stroheim’s earlier work and a distant, abstract perspective that points to the cinema of Josef von Sternberg.
Dave Kehr

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 261: Sat Sep 19

Web of Passion (Chabrol, 1959): BFI Southbank, NFT2, 2.50pm

This is part of the Claude Chabrol season at BFI Southbank. The other screenings of the film on September 5th is detailed here.

Chicago Reader review:
Claude Chabrol’s first color feature (1959) adapts a Stanley Ellin thriller in which a bourgeois family’s oedipal conflicts lead to murder. The beautiful color cinematography of Aix-en-Provence is by Henri Decae, and the film is plotted with a mise en scene that suggests Alfred Hitchcock. The lively if uneven cast includes Jean-Paul Belmondo, the creepy Andre Jocelyn, Madeleine Robinson, Bernadette Lafont, and nouvelle vague axiom Laszlo Szabo. It’s not a total success, but it was one of the first pictures to translate the French New Wave’s genre interests into mainstream terms, and it’s full of sexy and irreverent details.
Jonathan Rosenbaum

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 260: Fri Sep 18

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (Scorsese, 1974): Close-Up Cinema, 8.15pm

This film, presented in a new 4K restoration, also screens on September 9th, 19th and 26th. You can find all the details here.

Time Out review:
Although the ending is a bit of a cop out from a feminist point of view, Martin Scorsese's warm and witty blending of the road movie with the conventions of the women's weepie is a delight. Ellen Burstyn is excellent as the eponymous heroine who, following the death of a husband she barely loved, sets off for the Monterey of her childhood with hopes of reviving her abandoned singing career. Her encounters, and those of her precociously witty 12-year old son, are observed with great generosity and a raw realism, while Scorsese typically makes wonderful use of music to underline character and situation. Bitter-sweet and very charming.

Geoff Andrew

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 259: Thu Sep 17

The Beast Must Die (Chabrol, 1969): BFI Southbank, NFT2, 6.10pm

This is part of the Claude Chabrol season at BFI Southbank with the film being introduced by critic Geoff Andrew. Other screenings of the film (September 5th and October 4th) during the season are detailed here.

Chicago Reader review:
Claude Chabrol’s 1969 adaptation of Nicholas Blake’s thriller The Beast Must Die. Michel Duchaussoy and Jean Yanne star in a tale of a father obsessed with discovering and murdering the hit-and-run killer of his son. One of Chabrol’s most affecting, and chilling, studies of middle-class guilt and the parameters of retribution. Not to be missed.
Don Druker

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 258: Wed Sep 16

The Missouri Breaks (Penn, 1976): BFI Southbank, NFT2, 12.10pm

This 35mm screening of a superb and rarely seen western is part of the Harry Dean Stanton season and is also being shown on September 16th (details here).

Time Out review:
A wonderfully quirky Western, brilliantly scripted by Thomas McGuane, which strips all the cute whimsy away from the Butch Cassidy theme (outlaws on the run from a relentless lawman), replacing it with a kind of pixillated terror. Playing the 'regulator' as a camp Buffalo Bill with an Irish accent, Marlon Brando makes his entrance playing peekaboo from behind his horse, and at one point even stalks his prey in a dress and poke bonnet. But he is also a legalised killer, expert with a rifle but preferring (as the flail of God) to use a harpoon shaped like a crucifix. And as his gloating sadism shades into hints of bizarre perversion when he dedicates a love song and a kiss to his horse, the tone gradually darkens to a kind of horror. It's one of the few truly major Westerns of the '70s, with a very clear vision of the historical role played by fear and violence in the taming of the wilderness.
Tom Milne

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2026 — Day 257: Tue Sep 15

Wedding in Blood (Chabrol, 1973): BFI Southbank, NFT1 9pm

This is part of the Claude Chabrol season at BFI Southbank. Other screenings of the film (September 10th and 29th) during the season are detailed here.

Chicago Reader review:
Yet another facet of Claude Chabrol’s view of the bourgeois life as a facade behind which lurk extravagant, destructive, and often totally ridiculous passions (1974). Like his idol Alfred Hitchcock, Chabrol loves to work variations on the disintegration of an ordered world; but unlike Hitchcock, who keeps his order and his chaos neatly separated, Chabrol concentrates more on character, so that when the bottom drops out, it does so precisely and inevitably. Stephane Audran and Michel Piccoli star as adulterous lovers who never manage to realize that there’s an easier way out of their predicament than murder. A smashing work from a master craftsman.
Dan Druker

Here (and above) is an extract.