This weekend, the 2016 Berlin Film Festival came to a close with the festival’s international jury awarding eight films that played in the main competition. Berlin, which used to be looked at as a tier below Cannes and Venice, has slowly shed that perception over the years thanks to premiering titles like The Grand Budapest Hotel and 45 Years (the declining stature of Venice might also be a factor too, but that’s a story for another day). Jury president Meryl Streep announced the winners with her fellow jury members, which included Clive Owen, past Berlin winner Małgorzata Szumowska and Italian actress Alba Rohrwacher.

The winners (listed at the bottom of the page) also help tell us a few things about Berlin and the state of world cinema right now. Here are a few things we learned:

Berlin isn’t afraid to take risks

Lav Diaz has been making films for nearly two decades, but his uncompromising approach to filmmaking and duration has acted as a sort of barrier to competing at a major film festival (when he does screen, he’s usually pushed to sidebars or out of competition slots). So it came as a shock when the Berlinale announced his latest film, the 8-hour A Lullaby to the Sorrowful Mystery, would actually premiere in the main competition. Berlin is the first of the three major festivals to give Diaz a spot on the main stage, and that alone helps establish the festival as a sort of risky alternative to Cannes (which caused a minor stir last year when it refused to consider Miguel Gomes’ epic Arabian Nights for the main competition) and Venice. Berlin still has a way to go with establishing an identity for itself—some of their competition selections still seem random—but if it continues to make moves like this one, it might start carving a place out for itself on the festival circuit where even the boldest and most unconventional works can coexist in competition with more friendly and prestigious festival fare.

The Alfred Bauer prize needs to go

First off, I want to be clear: I don’t think the Alfred Bauer prize is a bad idea. The prize, which some might consider third place, is an award “for a feature film that opens new perspectives.” It sounds like a nice way to honour a bold or daring title in competition but, in reality, it’s just a way for the jury to look like they’re not excluding “difficult” cinema. This year, the winner didn’t come as a surprise at all: Lav Diaz’s A Lullaby to the Sorrowful Mystery pretty much had this one locked up from the start. So while having Diaz in competition is great, the presence of the Alfred Bauer prize feels like Diaz’s film never had a fair shot at the Golden Bear to begin with. Unfortunately, even if the prize went away or changed its purpose of avoiding the exclusion of certain types of films, the association will probably still be there (much like how Best Director at Cannes has turned into “let’s give it to the most stylish and/or difficult one”), and until it’s gone the prize is going to look less like an award and more like an excuse.

Are you listening, Cannes?

Cannes shouldn’t have to worry about losing its status as the most prestigious film festival in the world (even if festival head Thierry Fremaux seems hellbent on turning Cannes into a laughing stock), but with every passing year, it looks more like a festival that needs to get with the times. And for a festival that loves to make egregious decisions, perhaps its most egregious one is the continued exclusion of documentaries from its main competition. The last time a documentary competed for the Palme was in 2004 when Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11 walked away with the main prize, a decision that still irks some to this day. Perhaps that’s why Cannes hasn’t put a documentary in competition since, but Berlin doesn’t seem to have any biases when it comes to format. This year had two nonfiction films in the main competition, with Gianfranco Rosi’s immigration documentary Fire at Sea taking home the Golden Bear. Berlin isn’t the only major festival to show some love for documentaries either; Rosi’s previous film Sacro GRA won the Golden Lion at Venice, yet if either of them tried to compete in Cannes they would probably get denied. Perhaps Rosi’s two wins can be a sign to Fremaux and Cannes that, as documentaries continue to expand and evolve, the borders between fiction and nonfiction will continue looking arbitrary and archaic.

The unstoppable Mia Hansen-Løve

It’s only been less than a decade, but Mia Hansen-Løve has gradually climbed her way into the top tier of European directors working today, and with Things to Come she seems to have finally cemented her place. It wasn’t until 2009, with her second feature Father of my Children, that Hansen-Løve started making a name for herself (partially helped by her film earning a prize at Cannes), and with her next feature Goodbye First Love the fan base grew even more. 2014 turned out to be her biggest year, with her EDM tale Eden earning rave reviews and distribution deals around the world. Things to Come has Hansen-Løve going in an opposite direction from Eden (or, to put it properly, she’s just continuing to go in her own direction), this time crafting a story around a middle-aged philosophy professor (Isabelle Huppert) instead of a young DJ, and from the sounds of it the film is her strongest work to date. It received near-unanimous praise from critics (including high marks from Nik when he saw it), walked away with a Silver Bear for Best Director, and (perhaps most surprising) scored a slew of distribution deals, including a US deal with IFC Films. Not bad for a film with no major appeal beyond the presence of Huppert.

2016 Berlin Film Festival Winners

Golden Bear for Best Film – Fire at Sea, directed by Gianfranco Rosi

Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize – Death in Sarajevo, directed by Danis Tanović

Silver Bear Alfred Bauer Prize (for a feature film that opens new perspectives) – A Lullaby to the Sorrowful Mystery, directed by Lav Diaz

Silver Bear for Best Director – Mia Hansen-Løve for Things to Come

Silver Bear for Best Actress – Trine Dyrholm for The Commune, directed by Thomas Vinterberg

Silver Bear for Best Actor – Majd Mastoura for Hedi, directed by Mohamed Ben Attia

Silver Bear for Best Script – Tomasz Wasilewski for United States of Love, directed by Tomasz Wasilewski

Silver Bear for Outstanding Artistic Contribution (in the categories camera, editing, music score, costume or set design – Mark Lee Ping-Bing for the camera in Crosscurrent, directed by Yang Chao

Pensive and intellectual to the core, Mia Hansen-Løve’s Things to Come is a remarkably intriguing follow-up to her previous film Eden, mostly in how natural it feels even with subjects that seem (on the surface, at least) like they couldn’t be farther apart. For those who’ve never seen the director’s 2014 EDM tale, it follows a young man (a semi-biographical extension of her real-life brother) as he grows up in the early ’90s Parisian dance music scene. Things to Come centers on a woman, decades older than Eden’s protagonist, who teaches high-school philosophy in Paris and lives with her two children and husband of 25 years. At a certain point, it becomes clear that the City of Love isn’t the only thing binding the director’s latest films. Hansen-Løve is fascinated by the idea of human growth, and her creative way of expressing is growing itself.

Things to Come is a gentle wind; it flows so effortlessly, you can almost feel the warmth of its silky texture on your skin. This is generated by the way Hansen-Løve and her DP Denis Lenoir wield the camera around with a spontaneous, fluid spirit, but much of it is also attributable to a marvelous doyenne of the acting world, who carries the entire weight of the film on her shoulders as effortlessly as ever. Isabelle Huppert has an uncanny knack of conveying a remarkably large range of emotions: turning down-to-earth into larger-than-life with one pout, one sideway glance, or an ever-so-slight intonation in a spoken word. She embodies Nathalie, the philosophy professor who is suddenly faced with a concept she’d long forgotten about. In her own words: “total freedom.” Her husband, Heinz (Andre Marcon), has left her for another woman, and she has retouched base with former student Fabien (Roman Kolinka), whose combination of youth and intellect make him especially interesting for Nathalie. In some other film, perhaps, their relationship would be replete with perverse suggestions; under Hansen-Løve’s wing, their bond is strictly platonic and cerebral.

As the film follows Nathalie and her various evolutions—adapting to a new school regime that takes a modern marketing ax to her dear philosophy, dealing with a demented mother (Edith Scob), etc.—questions are mulled over in the refined, graceful way one images an oenophile tasting vintage wine. Is there a practical place for philosophy in today’s world? What does a woman over 40, whose kids are all grown up and whose memories are now tainted by her husband’s decision, have to hold on to? Is burying yourself in intellectual thoughts and readings enough to be happy? Hansen-Løve bears her old soul through the way she deals with these questions, with just the right balance of humor and melancholy. There’s just enough style to keep it at an arms-length from being a slice-of-life picture in the cinema verité sense, but the story, the characters, and the ideas on display keep the film firmly rooted to the ground and in reality.

Women’s stories, female directors, roles for women over 45—these debates are very much at the forefront of today’s film conversations. Things to Come is a serendipitous celebration of all three. Mia Hansen-Løve, still in her 30s, shows immense sensibility and maturity in tackling insular subject matter that would have most studio heads bolting for the door. In Isabelle Huppert, she has found the perfect collaborator—an actress of incredible depth and range, who makes every frame that much more fascinating to behold. Now, when I think about Eden and Things to Come as companion pieces, it’s hard to imagine another director who handles the subject of “moving on” with the kind of delicate deftness and assuredness that Mia Hansen-Løve demonstrates.

It’s impossible not to bring up Daft Punk when talking about the uprising of French electronic dance music, but that’s not actually who Eden is about. French director Mia Hansen-Løve, whose previous work on Goodbye First Love captured the beauty and heartbreak of love, shot a film very close to her own heart, chronicling her brother’s aspirations of becoming a DJ. Pulsing beats, rave parties, glow sticks, cocaine, and yes, even a little Daft Punk, all contribute to his story.

Somewhere on a crowded dance floor lit up only by flashing disco lights and glow sticks is our protagonist Paul (Félix de Givry). In 1992 the rave scene in Paris is starting to gain a lot of traction and he wants to be the reason people line up for blocks outside of a club. Paul fits the stereotype of every creative genius–obsessing over every little beat in an unhealthy way. Eventually he forms a garage house duo with a close friend and starts going by the name Cheers.

Several years go by before the duo begin to make a name from themselves, Paul gets a small taste of living the “rock star” life; bypassing lines outside of clubs, getting comped free drinks at the bar, doing lines of cocaine, and being around lots of women. On several occasions Paul wakes up blurry eyed to a different girl in his bed. Unfortunately, Paul is missing out on one of the best perks of living a famous lifestyle, being financially successful. Crowds begin to crave the latest sound but the duo fail to expand from what they know and love.

While Eden spends most of its time detailing the French electronic-music boom in the 1990s, Mia Hansen-Løve gives time to what she seems to know best, relationships. Paul’s relationship are many and varied, from a foreign affair (played by the delightful Greta Gerwig) to a single mother who mistakenly thinks she’s sleeping with a celebrity. Despite a head-spinning rotation of women, Hansen-Løve focuses on the small yet memorable aspects of relationships, sexual rejection, public fights, and the awareness of personal growth that comes with entering into new relationships and reflecting on past ones.

Eden feels like a personal film for Mia Hansen-Løve. On one side it’s an accurate docudrama about EDM inspired by her brother’s heavy involvement in that scene, and on the other it’s a fleeting relationship saga. In the end, both are about letting go, but her attempt at combining these different concepts show their seams. Sticking to one concept might have played out better.

What adds to the confusion are strange artistic choices on Hansen-Løve’s behalf, including awkward overlays such as airplane fly-over maps, and voiceovers where the person talking hovers on-screen. Other style choices that don’t feel right are the occasional display of texts from Paul’s phone and a singular bit of animation in the beginning that is a bit out of place. Still, there are moments where the director’s filmmaking skills do shine, one such example being impressive long takes of large rave crowds. Despite the stimulating imagery, and heavy and constant thump of the hypnotic music played throughout the film, Eden fails to entrance.

Theatrical release in San Francisco and Toronto Friday June 26. Originally published as part of our TIFF 2014 coverage.

Inspired by the life of former DJ Sven Hansen-Løve, Eden is also a sprawling document of the origins of electronic music in France in the early ’90s. Directed by Hansen-Løve’s sister, Mia, the film wades through his journey as a DJ in a scene that spurned acts like Daft Punk (who make an appearance in the film). It’s an intoxicating story that moves at its own pace, and Hansen-Løve takes great care to create a sense of time’s ephemerality. The film stars Felix De Givry as the central character, Paul, and also stars Pauline Etienne, Vincent Macaigne, Hugo Conzelmann and Greta Gerwig.

In conversation at this year’s San Francisco International Film Festival, I spoke to Sven and Felix about their experience working on Eden and representing the roots of French electronic music on-screen.

Eden is out in San Francisco this Friday.

Something I found interesting is that the film, chronologically, ends around where we are now, in the present.
Felix: When I spoke about the film to Mia, she said she likes all her films to end in the present time.

Why is that?
Felix: To remember when she makes her film? I don’t know. I think it’s to feel the passage of time even more in the film. I think if she did a movie in the 1800s she wouldn’t end today, but she’s only been doing movies about modern times.

Sven: We end up in about 2014 because she wanted to put the Daft Punk “Within” in the movie. The story is mostly based on my souvenirs, my memories. Some of the things you see happened to me, but only up to 2011, actually. Not 2014. [laughs]

I heard that you were an aspiring teacher.
Sven: I’m doing some studies, and then I’m moving to Spain. Maybe I’ll be teaching French there.

So you stopped your literature studies way back when to be a DJ, and you’ve just now picked that back up?
Sven: Yeah, it’s true. When my sister decided to do the film I had already decided to do literature again. More or less, it relates to reality.

Let’s talk about the inception of the film. Were you and your sister looking for a way to collaborate on a project, or did this just kind of happen organically?
Sven: It was a few years ago. She wanted to do a film different from her previous ones, which she saw as a trilogy. She wanted to try a new direction. She asked me if I was interested. It was natural, but I wouldn’t say organic.

I was just a kid in the ’90s, so I had no idea about this subculture you guys cover in the film. How old were you in the ’90s, Felix?
Felix: I was born in ’91, so I was just a kid. Every movie about a generation either happens while it’s happening or twenty years later. It’s a new trend to do a biopic. It wasn’t as common in previous years of cinema.

Sven: This is the first film to really show this scene. Usually, biopics are about things that are way in the past, but this is pretty recent.

Felix, your career’s very young, but so far you’ve got a great resume going.
Felix: This is my first film. I had a very small part in Olivier Assayas’ film, Something in the Air. But this is the first real film I’ve done. I plan on being selective. That doesn’t mean a lot of projects will come to me, but I plan on not doing several movies a year. I’m not planning on being an actor the way most other actors are.

Sven: It’s not so easy to find good projects. There are not so many.

Felix: Right. And in order to be an actor there’s this vicious circle, that you have to do a lot of movies in order to be present in the media. It’s a vicious circle. I do a lot of other projects on the side, and if I do act in other films, which is something I want, it would only be in movies that feel essential to me. I would love to act in a Coen brothers film.

Is that a goal of yours?
Felix: Yeah. They’re the best [storytellers] these days. They jump between genres of film. Really fascinating.

If I was a first-time actor approaching Eden, like you did, I’d be really scared.
Felix: Yeah. It’s huge. The script was 170 pages or something. I read it at night and it was for two films, and it was even more fluid. It was a gigantic project.

Sven, Mia’s said that this movie was a way for you to move on from that period of your life.
Sven: Yeah, it was a sort of catharsis, from A to Z. I was invested in every aspect of the process. I was so into it that I didn’t have distance from it, but now I can see that it helped me.

Do you have a sense of pride in the fact that you’re representing in film this culture that hasn’t really been seen before?
Sven: I wouldn’t use the word “pride.” Giving something to people that they didn’t know before is interesting.

After acting in this movie, has your musical taste changed at all?

Felix: I do listen to more garage and house and deep house music. My taste is more contemporary; I have a label and I produce music. What’s funny is that I understand more now a certain scene that is very present today, the deep house and techno scene. I know the roots through the film. It helps me have a clear vision of music today. The film really traces the roots, and it’s really fascinating that it was really just a group of 200, 300 people who committed to this music at first in the early ’90s.

Sven: We actually had a lot of teenagers who saw the film come to see us. They’re so happy to discover all of this.

The movie’s all about details. What’s a small moment that was particularly true to life for you?
Sven: The Daft Punk scene where they try to get into the club. They told us that story, and it’s completely real.

Felix: It makes them more human. That’s what they liked about the movie.

Sven: There’s also the scene near the end where there’s the New Years Eve party on the boat and no one came. That happened. Nobody showed up.

Would you have agreed to do a film about your life with anyone but your sister?
Sven: No, I don’t think so.

Are there any plans to expand on this project? You said it was originally two films.

Sven: No. That time is over. [laughs]

Felix: There were scenes in Sweden that were in part 2 originally but were cut due to budget issues. There’s also a short film that’s about the same character.

Did you film chronologically?
Felix: No. In the apartment we shot all of the scenes with the three girlfriends over three days. It was really strange. The biggest challenge maybe were the sex scenes. We were supposed to shoot one in New York, but we went over budget and over time. We shot it three months later in Paris, so the pressure was on. It’s strange. There are many reasons why sex scenes are strange. One of the actresses was married to a guy who was working on the scene, so her husband was right there.

How do you feel about the state of music today?
Sven: I think it’s getting better, much better than in 2000. Music’s starting to sell again. Obviously CDs are over, but on the internet, things are moving.

There is nothing overly complicated about the French film Goodbye First Love, a story about a young woman who is torn between two men, one of which is her fist love that she cannot seem to get over. The other represents maturity, stableness, and security. Instead of complexity, writer/director Mia Hansen-Løve instead shows ordinary characters with common relationship quarrels, but the hands-off approach captures authenticity which is the film’s best asset.

It is evident in the opening scene that Sullivan (Sebastian Urzendowsky) and Camille (Lola Créton) love each other. In fact, they adore each other. Sullivan rides his bike on the streets of Paris to pick up a rose and some condoms before stopping at the apartment of 15 year-old Camille. After exchanging loving words it is then implied that the two make love.

Before the 10 minute mark Goodbye First Love sort of throws a curve ball. I say sort of because the title of the film indicates that this would happen. Sullivan reveals that he has plans to backpack around South America with two friends. His mother asks if Camille will be going with them to which his response is no.

Love is all that Camille lives for and she will be the first one to tell you that. She is a bit melodramatic but given that she and Sullivan have been together for a year it is easy to see why she gets frustrated with his lack of dependency on her. She knows that Sullivan is going on this expedition to South American but 10 months to her seems like a life time.

After all the great moments over the year of being together, the couple must say goodbye for a while. Saying goodbye is never easy but when you are an adolescent saying goodbye to your first love it is perceivably the most difficult thing to do in the world. She receives a few letters from him soon after he leaves but the frequency decreases over time until finally she stops getting letters all together.

The film then skips ahead about five years when Camille is in college studying to become an architect. She had no choice but to move on but you still get a sense that she holds on to a little piece of him. As she starts to fall for her much older professor she sees Sullivan’s mother on the bus and leaves her number for him to call.

The two eventually do meet to catch up on things shortly after. Neither of them are outwardly excited to see each other. He does apologize for hurting her way back when but both agree that what they felt back then now feels like a different person in a different live. But still she cannot stop loving him and she cannot figure out why.

Often times it is not the person that you miss but the idea of that person, which is what Camille experiences here. You miss what that person represents even though the person may not be right for you. I think we have all realized at one point that the things we hang on to are sometimes silly and unexplainable but for one reason or another we still cling.

You will see nothing but what would occur in everyday life in Goodbye First Love. To some viewers that will be frustrating as they may be expecting the film to introduce a movie like consequence that dramatically changes the plot. I suspect they would pass the film off as boring instead of appreciate how real life like it is.

Lola Créton was terrific in her performance playing the girl that could not shake her first love. Her character often demanded teary-eyes and lustfulness but on the flip side she is depressed for more than half of the film. Créton does not miss a beat.

Do not go into Goodbye First Love expecting more out of the plot than what the title suggests. It is a very accurate depiction of first love and how difficult it is, if ever, to let go of it. The French director used healthy amounts of symbolism in the film, most notably when the hat Sullivan buys for her travels down the river. But the best thing the film accomplishes is how it was able to capture the heartache of adolescent love without pulling any over-the-top stunts.

Straight out of France is the new romantic drama Goodbye First Love, which looks to have lots of potential. The film stars Lola Creton as a young woman who is having a hard time saying goodbye to her first love. It looks to be a slow burning film about both the passion and hard-break that comes from love. From the trailer preview Goodbye First Love looks to be nothing if not honest.

UPDATE: Read our movie review of Goodbye First Love.

Official trailer for Goodbye First Love: