WILD TIGERS I HAVE KNOWN (USA/2007/CAM ARCHER)

Like any other thirteen-year-old boy, precocious Logan is struggling his way through puberty, but has the added issue of coming to grips with his homosexuality. Logan initially finds an outlet for his pains in straight friend Joey, with whom he ambiguously discusses the sexual potency of the boys at their school, but suddenly finds an object of fixation in the older Rodeo. In his attempts to seduce the teenage rebel, Logan establishes a female alter ego named Leah which he uses to arrange rendezvous with Rodeo over the phone. Throughout the film, Logan’s troubles are echoed by the mountain lions which reside in the area, creatures with which he openly identifies.

Visually, sonically and thematically reminiscent of low-budget documentary Tarnation, Wild Tigers I Have Known is refreshing in that it handles teenage sexuality without overdoing the pathos, or even segregating homosexual relationships from heterosexual ones. But in spite of all this, it’s a terrible piece of work. Lead actor Malcolm Stumpf certainly has the look, but doesn’t do the role much justice beyond the superficial – it’s hard to look at his indie coif and sardonically-mismatched clothes and read ‘troubled child’. In fact, none of Cam Archer’s film is convincing, particularly the arguments he has with his mother. On many occasions, one gets the feeling that Archer, who hails from a background in photography, wants to blindly glamorise the subject rather than give it a voice. Perhaps even more grating is the aimless static soundtrack, which adds nothing to the drama.

CREEPY HIDE AND SEEK (JAPAN/2009/MASAFUMI YAMADA)

Belatedly riffing on the Japanese horror craze for technology, Creepy Hide and Seek follows curious teenager Ryoko as she saunters down the rabbit-hole of a new craze – online hide and seek. The rules of the game are revealed to us at the beginning through a girl named Mai-Mai. Slavishly obeying a set of instructions on a chatroom, Mai-Mai performs a voodoo ritual with a doll, then finds a hiding place in her own house. A string of messages persuades her that she is winning the game, before a mysterious hand strangles her from behind. Ryoko, as it is revealed, was a close friend of Mai-Mai’s, and is not satisfied with the popular explanation that she simply ‘disappeared’. Determined to unravel the mystery herself, Ryoko plays the game herself, not realising she is soon to face the intangible terror that has claimed so many victims before.

As the title suggests, it’s not a particularly cerebral piece of work, nor is it in any way original. Whatever this film might have wanted to say about the internet and Japanese folklore in modern culture has most likely been articulated better in another horror film – Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Pulse comes to mind, as does Noroi: The Curse. Even more disappointing is that the film’s central concept is half-baked, and the lure of this hide and seek game is pretty unclear. But as simple as the film appears, it is still worth watching, if only for the accomplished sound design which almost creates music from fear.

A SUMMER AT GRANDPA'S (TAIWAN/1984/HOU HSIAO-HSIEN)

When their mother takes ill, young siblings Ting-Ting and Tung-Tung are forced to move in with their grandparents who live in the country. As with every child, the pair spends the beginning of their summer sojourn pining for mum and dad, particularly as they both struggle to befriend the neighbourhood kids. Grandpa is a stoical character who is best known as the town doctor, but also takes great pleasure in teaching Ting-Ting and Tung-Tung occasionally, and the kids grow close to him over time. Through investigating this new landscape, they also learn about aspects of life completely alien to them, particularly the concept of death which has a particular poignancy when they reflect on their poorly mother back at home.

The film is completely carried by its two leads Wang Chi-Kwang and Sun Cheeng-Lee, who couldn’t be more adorable. Director Hou Hsiao-Hsien focuses most of his attention on the children’s convincing exploration of their environment, but balances the sentimentality with realism, as the adults openly discuss grave matters in front of the children. This hard-hitting sincerity is the film’s virtue, and it never verges on preciousness or sentimentality. The cinematography is beautiful - from the sun-baked train station steps to the crowded dinner table, Hou absorbs every facet of the countryside, much like his young protagonists. It is sad to think that such a gentle, sincere film is unlikely to ever be made in Britain, but A Summer At Grandpa’s is universal enough to fulfil a sense of childhood nostalgia.

LA CHIENNE (FRANCE/1931/JEAN RENOIR)

Opening with a puppet show prologue, Jean Renoir’s La Chienne concerns Maurice, a dowdy forty-something cashier trapped in a loveless marriage. At a meal with his work colleagues, he expresses his unhappiness but finds little sympathy. On his way back home, he encounters Lulu, a gamine prostitute tending to her drunken pimp, and is instantly smitten. After escorting her safely to her place, Maurice mistakes Lulu’s affectionate manner for love, and attempts to see her again. Meanwhile, Lulu’s pimp Dédé is angered at the sight of the paintings Maurice has given her but, with true pimp flair, he comes up with a plan to extort money from Maurice by emotional blackmail. Lulu, having never defied Dédé before, complies for a while, but a surprising revelation changes the fortunes of all three.

Renoir’s second sound film (after the pleasantly-named Baby’s Laxative), La Chienne is a daring, contentious work which unapologetically raises questions about morality and love. Though unevenly paced, particularly towards the end, Renoir handles the drama well, fairly depicting the double lives of both Lulu and Maurice. What is interesting about the film is that none of its three characters are particularly endearing – even Lulu makes a weak protagonist, given her impressionability – but it is still a compelling story. Michel Simon, the dutiful Jules in Jean Vigo’s L’Atalante, is brilliant here as Maurice, competently portraying the romantic desperations of a middle-aged man. The photography is also wonderful but subtle – look out for the dinner party scene shot from a dumbwaiter.

MATTHEW BARNEY: NO RESTRAINT (USA/2006/ALISON CHERNICK)

One of the most important American artists of our time, Matthew Barney is best known for his Cremaster Cycle, an extravagant series of films which explore creation and growth. This documentary follows Barney as he embarks upon Drawing Restraint 9, the cinematic magnum opus in a series of artistic experiments where he created works under prearranged limitations. As well as charting the genesis and development of this large-scale project, Matthew Barney: No Restraint also explores Barney as a person, unravelling the different facets of his personality which have led him to become such a disciplined, highly-stylised artist.

The documentary opens with Barney excitedly watching a vat fill with Vaseline, the sculptural material with which he has become associated. The scene presages the slightly tongue-in-cheek approach that director Alison Chernick takes to her unconventional making-of documentary. Through recording Barney, Chernick also profiles his wife and artistic collaborator Björk, who also composed the project’s score. While it is refreshing to hear her contributions as the closest person to Barney, the documentary to some extent loses focus because of it. But in all truth, Chernick has done a great job of normalising the extraordinary, particularly when presented with such bizarre sights as artificial legs being stripped apart. At no point is the film patronising to either Barney or the people who help him create his masterpiece, and through charting his dedication and drive, No Restraint should at the very least endear him to those who obtusely refuse to acknowledge the value of art.