The ICO team share some of their Cannes Film Festival ones to watch, including new work from Clio Barnard, Paweł Pawlikowski, and Cristian Mungiu.
Check back for further announcements of UK distributors and release dates.
Contents:
Club Kid (dir. Jordan Firstman)
Fjord (dir. Cristian Mungiu)
I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning (dir. Clio Barnard)
Fatherland (dir. Paweł Pawlikowski)
The Meltdown (dir. Manuela Martelli)
We Are Aliens (dir. Kōhei Kadowaki)
All of a Sudden (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
Flesh and Fuel (dir. Pierre le Gall)
Minotaur (dir. Andrey Zvyagintsev)
Once Upon A Time In Harlem (dir. William Greaves, David Greaves)
Heather Bradshaw, Assistant Film Programmer
Club Kid (dir. Jordan Firstman)
Internet comedian Jordan Firstman has come a long way since viral COVID videos and PR for banana bread. In the last few years, he’s starred in Rachel Sennott’s HBO series I Love LA and Sebastián Silva’s queer thriller Rotting in the Sun. Even still, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from his directorial debut.
What transpired is an Aftersun-esque, warm-and-fuzzy dad-com that playfully treads the line between emotional poignancy and – potentially – one of the funniest films of the year, whilst still feeling true to the Jordan we’ve come to know and love in the online realm.
Firstman gives a layered performance as party boy Peter, who discovers he has a 10-year-old British son named Arlo at the peak of his life’s downward trajectory, where he begins to wonder if he’ll ever grow up and graduate the clubbing lifestyle. The scenes between Peter and Arlo (Reggie Absolom) are a joy to watch, and the pair have real chemistry, which helps the swell of the film’s authentic and tender ending.
Club Kid reminds us that finding yourself doesn’t necessarily mean sexuality or persona – something which both Peter and Jordan have in abundance! – but instead, a purpose which defines us. It’s a coming-of-age film across two generations: one of Arlo’s introductions to the world of New York’s ultra-cool queer club scene and (ironically) a loving, stable home; the other, Peter’s own journey to becoming a ‘proper’ adult and the realisation of his true potential. In retrospect, the Peter Pan parallels feel a tad on the nose here, but when you’re watching, they glide by almost undetected.
Similar to films like Aftersun and How To Have Sex, there is a younger audience sway here, but the impressive quality of a debut filmmaker such as Firstman alongside his online frame will open it up to a wider reach, more along the lines of this year’s A24 breakout, The Drama.
Definitely my highlight of the festival!
Club Kid will be released by A24.
Fjord (dir. Cristian Mungiu)
Cristian Mungiu’s follow-up to R.M.N was another buzzy title at this year’s Cannes, which I had to queue for two hours just to get a ticket for! But it was definitely worth the wait. Tonally in the same vein as films like The Hunt and Anatomy of a Fall, Mungiu’s Fjord offers a much less tense yet similarly ruminative courtroom drama of a religious, Norwegian-Romanian couple accused of physical and emotional child abuse.
Sebastian Stan is particularly good (and almost unrecognisable) as the family patriarch, Mihai, supported diligently by his wife, Lisbet (Renate Reinsve), as they navigate the turmoil of the accusations against them. What’s really interesting is the framing of the conflict by Mungiu, who chooses an unbiased perspective that leads the audience in neither direction, inviting them to make their own judgment about what the ‘right thing’ looks like. There are plot holes, yes, but their omissions feel necessary in removing bias from the story structure, presenting only what is detailed in official reports and observed by witnesses.
Despite the obvious ominousness of its rural surroundings, the title ‘Fjord’ equally alludes to what remains unknown to its audience, as the film’s glacial secrets hidden beneath the surface begin to thaw and cause avalanches. Given the family’s religious beliefs and cultural dissonance as a largely Romanian family living in rural Norway, there are moral questions at play which linger, commenting on the nuances of cultural ethics and their impact on family structures. These heavy subjects are carefully examined across a hefty 2h 26min runtime, though each scene feels well-earned and necessary in deepening the case, making for an arresting slow-burn that demands the attention of its inevitably conflicted audience of default jury members.
This feels like a solid choice for indie cinema audiences, particularly with a release from Picturehouse and a Palme d’Or under its belt, which should comp well to the likes of Anatomy of a Fall, though perhaps feels slightly less impactful cinematically.
Fjord will be released in the UK by Picturehouse Entertainment.
Rose Butler, Film Programmer
I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning (dir. Clio Barnard)
Lovingly adapted from Keiran Goddard’s 2024 novel of the same name, Clio Barnard’s I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning was a standout title in this year’s Directors’ Fortnight strand. With a premiere Q&A screening with the director ending in rapturous applause, the film would eventually take home the much-coveted Audience Award, as well as the Palm Dog Grand Jury Prize for four-legged scene-stealer, Lola.
Five friends are bound by their upbringing in a post-industrial Birmingham. Now, with their thirties looming and the party feeling like it’s finally over, their once unbreakable bonds begin to fray at the seams. Childhood sweethearts Pat and Shiv are caught in the grind of young parenthood; Conor is an expectant father and a building contractor – attempting to follow in his father’s footsteps but clearly worn down by impending responsibilities; Oli is a sweet slacker, a drug dealer who has a change of heart after adopting a stray dog on the street. The group is rounded out by Rian, who hit the jackpot in online stock trading with cash from his late father’s inheritance. While his mates are living modestly in Birmingham, Rian has a soulless penthouse in London’s Canary Wharf and clearly feels at odds with his newfound wealth.
It’s a topical and deeply moving film, a rumination on friendships, working-class culture, and an astute commentary on the impossible cycle so many young people find themselves in in the search for a decent job and a roof overhead that you might own one day. It’s a testament to the central five performances from excellent British talent (Joe Cole, Lola Petticrew, Daryl McCormack, Anthony Boyle and Jay Lycurgo) that this ensemble works so well; each of the group really delivers, so that when the emotional beats of the film ramp up in the final act, you’re incredibly invested in the dynamics between each of the friends.
Taking on youth dissolution and class politics, this should reach audiences akin to Urchin, Scrapper, and Pillion, offering plenty for UK viewers to sink their teeth into. A sharp, timely and important film.
I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning will be released by Curzon.
Those who work in film exhibition can watch I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning during ICO’s Inclusion & Diversity Screening Days, taking place at Derby QUAD on Friday 10 July 2026.
Fatherland (dir. Paweł Pawlikowski)
Fatherland sees the return of visionary director Paweł Pawlikowski, his first film since 2018’s exquisite Cold War, with both titles garnering him the Best Director Award in competition at Cannes.
The year is 1949, the world is in the grip of the Cold War, and Germany is a nation divided. Famed author Thomas Mann (Hanns Zischler) is invited to Frankfurt to accept a prestigious Goethe Prize, with his daughter Erika (Sandra Hüller) accompanying him. Mann’s son, Klaus, is holed up in an apartment in Cannes. Dissatisfied with his own writing and disillusioned by the current state of contemporary art, he spirals into a depression and refuses to join his father and sister on their trip.
What follows is another finely tuned, beautifully photographed film from Pawlikowski that is both austere and sumptuous in its black and white aesthetic. While father and daughter travel across the country, Thomas controversially makes plans to attend not only the ceremony in Frankfurt, West Germany, but also celebrations in East Germany’s Weimar, with both sides of the freshly split country desperate to claim Mann as one of their own. During the course of the film, the pair drive through starkly captured bombed out towns and decimated infrastructure as a result of WWII; with communities shaken and the horrors of war still looming, it is evident that this is a country and society still in ruins.
A beautiful exploration of belonging and identity, searching for a place that once was but may never exist again, Pawilowksi’s film is gorgeously striking, full of richly felt emotion from the two lead performances; Sandra Hüller’s Erika has an almost unshakable steely exterior, whereas Hans Zischler’s role as Thomas Mann is evidently grappling with the realisation that his homeland will never be the same. Economically told yet quietly haunting, Fatherland further highlights Pawlikowski’s directorial skill in navigating interpersonal emotional beats against the backdrop of national trauma.
A beautifully shot film that will draw Pawlikowski fans to the cinema with audiences similar to Cold War, as well as the more recently released La Grazia from Paolo Sorrentino.
Fatherland will be released in the UK by Mubi.
James Corr, Training and Professional Development Officer
We Are Aliens (dir. Kōhei Kadowaki)
The presence of animated films at Cannes has grown quite drastically over the past few years (outside of the main competition, which has only seen seven animated titles since the festival’s inception, with the last time being 2008 with Waltz with Bashir), and some of the most exciting animation has been discovered in the Director’s Fortnight, a strand which is regularly more pioneering than others arms of the festival.
We Are Aliens continues that trend as an overtly ambitious animation from first-time director Kōhei Kadowaki. Nothing has been held back in this film, for better and worse in places, but even if at times there is a bit too much going on, I was constantly enthralled, even if it was just by Kadowaki’s visionary outlook on what could be done with traditional Japanese animation.
The film itself is split into two halves, telling the story of two young students, Tsubasa and Kyotaro, from each boy’s perspective, as they go from childhood best friends to distant memories. While there are sometimes gaps in the narrative during the first half, they’re all neatly wrapped up by the end of the final act (it’s a similar narrative structure to Kore-eda’s Monster, without the perspective of an adult). The animation style shifts throughout the film, and Kadowaki uses these shifts to convey the characters’ emotions with expert precision.
Seeing new and pioneering animations for the first time gives you a certain buzz as you leave the cinema, and the potential for Kōhei Kadowaki’s future films is going to be very interesting.
The Meltdown (dir. Manuela Martelli)
The Meltdown is the latest in a trend of films that use the naivety of a child protagonist to probe something political, in this case, the long-term ramifications for Chile in the years following the collapse of Pinochet’s regime. This is a marked departure for sophomore director Manuela Martelli, whose debut feature, Chile ’76, tackled the early years of the dictatorship much more head-on.
Using the snowy Chilean Andes as the backdrop lends an otherworldly quality to this quiet and poised thriller, through which we are led by Inés, the granddaughter of hotel owners who have set up at the foot of a ski resort. Her parents are never seen but are often referenced. Her father led the Chilean delegation to the 1992 Seville Expo, where the country famously displayed a large iceberg extracted from Bahia Paraiso, which served as a symbol of the country as it entered a new democratic era.
Inés is joined in the mountains by a group of German skiers, and she quickly finds kinship with Hanna, who is using this remote locale as a training camp for an upcoming tournament. They’re both outsiders within their own families, looking for a way to get through the summer, and they’re also uniquely the best English speakers in their families, giving them an almost secret form of communication. For a film billed as a thriller, the build-up towards the key shift in the story is slow, but it’s the time spent with Inés and Hanna that makes it hit that much harder.
It’s exciting to see the early building blocks of a filmmaker’s political oeuvre being laid, and I hope UK audiences will have the chance to see it soon if this gets picked up for distribution.
Ella Marsh, Assistant Film Programmer
Flesh and Fuel (dir. Pierre le Gall)
French director Pierre Le Gall’s debut film took home the Queer Palm Revelation Prize, a newly created award especially for this title. Flesh and Fuel pays tribute to the world of European truck drivers, an underappreciated profession that is the backbone of the modern economy.
Alexis Manenti plays Étienne, a man perfectly content with his dedication to life on the road and comfortably open with his sexuality. Subdued by this lifestyle, he finds himself entering dark forests at night, looking for someone to help temporarily fill his solitude. Here, he meets the incredibly open and compassionate Bartosz (Julian Świeżewski). Their chemistry awakens something within both of them, and what unfolds is almost an existential crisis right before our eyes.
What really resonated with me was not the romantic aspect of this film, but rather the collective portrait of people who have devoted their lives to this profession and who all share the strange dimension of silence amid the constant busyness. It fed an utterly familiar realisation into the film, leading the audiences to ask: what do we have left, and what purpose do we have after dedicating our lives to work?
Flesh and Fuel feels attuned to the likes of God’s Own Country and Andrew Haigh’s work, such as All of Us Strangers, drawing arthouse and LGBTQ+ cinema fans, as well as wider supporters of independent British films.
Fless and Fuel will be released in the UK by BFI.
All of a Sudden (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
My highlight of the festival is the latest from Ryusuke Hamaguchi – All of a Sudden. This co-production between Japan and France follows the meeting of two souls – the director of a senior care facility, Marie-Lou (Virginie Efira – who learned fluent Japanese just in time for shooting), and theatre director Mari (Tao Okamoto). Both women jointly received the Cannes Best Actress Prize for their work in this delicate and meditative piece.
What I admire greatly about this film is the illustration of a platonic relationship between the two women, their ability to find friendship later in life and the utmost respect they have for each other.
Its initial subject matter explores a softer, slower approach to palliative care called ‘Humanitude’, with Marie-Lou clashing with the older nurse who’s apprehensive about this change, symbolising the long-standing problems we continue to face when trying to enact systemic change from the ground up. Through this, the film delves into the ever-present issues within modern capitalism and its relationship with time, nature, and our bodies. This traverses through you ever so softly and gently and completely disarms you as it progresses. Yet again, Hamaguchi has made a film that helps us understand the world better and is a call to action regarding our treatment of others, and, despite the almighty three-hour, thirty-minute run time, I simply did not want it to end.
All of a Sudden feels like a continuation of Hamaguchi’s previous works, namely Drive My Car, Happy Hour, and Asako I & II, so this is one for the fans – and if they’re not one yet, this will be their conversion title!
All of a Sudden will be released in the UK by Curzon.
Mikaela Smith, Senior Film Programmer
Minotaur (dir. Andrey Zvyagintsev)
I saw Andrey Zvyagintsev’s previous film, Loveless, at an ICO Screening Days the best part of a decade ago. I was working at Showroom Cinema in Sheffield at the time, and Joan Parsons, the programmer and a big Zvyagintsev fan, had programmed a full retrospective of his work to celebrate the release. The season is where I had my crash course, and I, too, became a pretty big fan.
Zvyagintsev has been absent from the exhibition and festival landscape since then, after falling ill during COVID-19 with a severe case that almost took his life. Undoubtedly one of the most important artists making social and political commentary about Russia today, it’s a travesty that he, in the wake of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, was unable to create. This film, then, is already an incredibly important work from one of Russia’s best contemporary filmmakers.
As a remake of Claude Chabrol’s The Unfaithful Wife, I was intrigued by the premise. In this version, Zvyagintsev transposes Chabrol’s erotic, domestic thriller into contemporary small-town Russia, against a backdrop of war and corporate CEOs supporting the draft by putting forward employees to be called to the front lines. It is at once icy cold and scorching hot, a laser-focused, needle-sharp indictment of Russian corruption balanced by a thrilling, sexy, and, at times, quite funny crime-of-passion tale. These things don’t feel like they ought to work on paper, but Zvyagintsev does an incredible job of grounding the original text with a new political weight that underscores the rest of the story. Taking the knotty, painful observations about his mother country, and layering them into a film that feels accessible for a wider international audience is an incredibly intelligent move that makes for a film that is complex, taut and engrossing.
Given its quality and content, I’d expected Minotaur to be in the international Oscars race. It should be able to attract a wider audience if it’s in the awards conversation, drawing audiences similar to It Was Just An Accident, or even Anatomy of a Fall if it’s a breakout awards favourite.
Minotaur will be released in the UK by Mubi.
Once Upon A Time In Harlem (dir. William Greaves, David Greaves)
This delightful documentary was such a warm little palette cleanser for my Cannes experience this year.
Originally filmed on 16mm 50 years ago by the late filmmaker William Greaves, Once Upon A Time In Harlem allows you, the viewer, to be a fly on the wall for an inspiring meeting of minds, gathering ageing luminaries of the 1920’s Harlem Renaissance into a room to discuss art, politics, liberation and, really, anything else their hearts desire. It’s a rich, thoughtful, important cultural artefact, but in many ways it’s also an agreeable hang-out movie (if all the people you hang out with are pioneers of Black American culture).
After many, many years in the cutting room and after Greaves’ passing in 2014, his son David (who served as one of the cameramen on the original shoot) has finally brought this wonderful footage to life, a celebration of its subjects’ lives and legacies, and a party that’s a pleasure even to have been able to observe through the screen. might attract similar audiences to other archival docs like Jazz on a Summer’s Day.
For more insights into further films from the festival, including our ones to watch, visit the ICO Instagram profile and watch our Cannes ’26 highlight.
We aim to update this Cannes 2026: Ones to Watch article with UK distribution details for each film as they become available. Please get in touch if you have any news regarding the UK distribution rights for any titles referenced here.