Young Critics

About us:

Young Critics is a youth-led programme for budding Irish film critics between the ages of 18-25 who simply love film.

Young Irish Film Makers is dedicated to supporting the next generation of creatives. During the programme, our writers get the chance to analyse and discuss film, platform their writing, attend film festivals and join a fun, creative community where they can hone their critical abilities.

What it involves:

Writing workshops lead by renowned critics
Attending festivals, panels and industry events
Having reviews published on film festival websites
Weekly online chats about film
Producing a Young Critics podcast about all things film

What do young people say about the programme?

“YoungCritics helped me not only create ideas but develop them in a professional manner, I’ve loved every minute of being a part of the YC!” – Pia

“…. I myself am very shy, and there’s room for people who are shy to edit podcasts, help with social media promotion and just having a group of like minded people to be around”– Patrick

“I’ve gained such great experience in my role , facilitating film discussions and organising events and activities. It’s been a joy to be a part of such a lovely community.” – Colum Culleton – member turned Project Coordinator

“Working with the Young Critics has given me the opportunity to create content about something I’m passionate about with incredibly talented people from all over the country.” – Alannah Brent – member turned Project Coordinator

CLICK FOR MORE INFO ABOUT YOUNG CRITICS

Want to read our work? Check our our latest reviews
from the Galway Film Fleadh

The Lost Children

The Lost Children - Review by Iveta Rusinova

“The Lost Children” is an atmospheric Belgian thriller that dives into exploring the depths of how unresolved childhood trauma can lurk on your “inner” child long after those careless days are over. Michèle Jacob’s first feature film cleverly blends a dysfunctional coming-of-age tale with horror elements to illustrate the importance of facing one’s fears in order to reach closure. We follow Audrey and her siblings who wake up in their large country house, realising that their father has left, without any warning of when he will return. From then, the children are forced to fend for themselves while Audrey begins to experience inexplicable supernatural visions. Once the kids realise their father might not be coming back, they attempt to flee the house through the woods, yet it seems the forest won’t let them go. The film manages to build a tense and eerie ambiance and maintains it even after it becomes clear it prioritises its dramatic side. The script, written by Jacob herself, flows at a decent pace and keeps the viewers guessing, until it loses its steam midway with the decision to unveil its initial ambiguity, replacing it with way too much spoon-feeding. From there, it’s inevitable to not see the ending coming, yet it sticks its landing due to the satisfactory emotional impact. The backbone of the film, however, is the performances of the cast in the face of the 4 children. It’s rare to see such raw child performances that lack all of that artificial and polished Hollywood glam. The facial expressions of Iris Mirzabekiantz, who portrays the lead Audrey, are enough to convey more terror in the viewer than anything explicitly shown on screen. The sibling dynamic is another well-developed aspect whether it plays around with conventions such as the eldest taking the role of a guardian or the middle child being left out. The production design also plays a major part in establishing the haunting presence. Most of the film takes place in the woods or in the house which, with its crumbling foundations and decaying wallpapers, seems like a breathing character on its own. Overall, “The Lost Children” brings nothing new to table that other “elevated” horrors haven’t explored in the past decade, yet its sincerity about the power of siblinghood and acceptance, disguised in, sometimes, palpable symbolism and refracted through the prism of one’s entrapped younger self, is surprisingly touching.

Girls Will Be Girls

Girls Will Be Girls - Review by Amy Brogue

In July I attended the Galway Film Fleadh for the first time. Upon arriving in Galway I headed straight for the Pálás Theatre with my fellow YIFM Young Critics for a screening of ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ directed by Shuchi Talati. Over the next few days, I attended many more screenings, but it was this first film that I kept coming back to. ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ is a poignant coming-of-age drama set in India, which follows a young high-achieving student as she navigates her first romantic relationship. This film leans into many tropes of the coming-of-age drama, such as the tense mother-daughter relationship, the absent or unavailable father, and the ‘bad boy’ love interest. However, I did not find the film in any way predictable. ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ is not a regurgitation of the genre but an exploration, which challenges the expectations of the audience. That was at least my own experience watching this film from a Western perspective. I recognised the tropes that I am familiar with, and yet I felt as though I was watching something entirely new. ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ is full of morally grey characters. Mothers who do not always act in their child's best interest, boyfriends who lie to get what they want, and teachers who allow dangerous behaviour to go unpunished. In contrast to the direction of many Western coming-of-age films, Shuchi Talati does not tell her audience how to feel about these characters and their choices. She allows the lines between right and wrong to blur and with the use of slow, lingering camera work and wide-angled shots, allows you to sit with the characters and and form your own opinions. Shuchi Talati’s ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ is truly an excellent example of craftsmanship, but don’t just take my word for it. The film premiered at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival where it won the Audience Award for Dramatic World Cinema. If you get the chance to see it do not miss this beautiful story of family, love, and rebellion.

Limits of Europe

Limits of Europe - Review by John Brady

Limits of Europe, directed by Apolena Rychlíková depicts Saša Uhlová, well known Czech journalist who goes undercover in the ‘cheap labour force’. Workplaces in Western Europe that take advantage of workers from Eastern Europe. Giving excruciatingly long hours for cruelly small pay. The film sheds light on a situation that has been ongoing for many years, if not decades. Throughout the film, Saša works at an asparagus farm in Germany, tries her hand as a maid at a hotel in Ireland, and takes care of the elderly in France. The strongest section of the film is the asparagus farm in Germany. The footage from this section of the film, captured using glasses with a built in, hidden camera is low quality and uncoordinated. It adds a sharp dose of realism to the proceedings. It is perhaps the section of the film that is hardest to watch. We are put face to face with work days that go far past twelve hours. Saša attempts to keep track of how long she is working until one of her co workers tells her “get it into your head once and for all that there’s no fixed schedule here”. Later on in this section, the work hours escalate to the point that for days on end, the workers are getting five hours sleep or less a day. One of the workers makes an offhand remark that these longer hours are occurring because the local supermarket is having a sale. This moment gets to the heart of Rychlíková’s piece. The film keeps its focus on the human beings trapped in this system. However, it is the small remarks like these that remind the audience of what these ungodly hours are in service of. The comforts of Western Europe. There is a confidence in the edit here that deserves commendation. It would be so easy to make this line a centrepiece. However, Rychlíková allows it to be said in the offhand manner it was intended. These workers are so accustomed to these horrendous conditions that they do not reflect on the statement so why should the film pause for it? There is a subtle power to this section that forces the viewer to reflect. Which makes it all the more surprising that there are two other sections after it. While Saša’s time in Ireland and France offer hard hitting truths. These three separate segments feel like too much to fit into one film. The diaristic nature of the segments necessitate a slow pace which only inflates the issue. While I was certainly engaged throughout all of these sections, I couldn’t help but wonder how much stronger this piece would have been if it had allowed for one completely fleshed out exploration into one of these segments instead of brief glimpses into three. Though it is at times too tangential for its own good, Limits of Europe is a striking documentary. A reflection on a system of cheap and exploitative labour that Western Europe has become reliant on. Its focus on the human cost of such a system makes this documentary one that is worthy of your attention. Quote: Get it into your head once and for all that there’s no fixed schedule here. 8/10

Architecton (2024)

Architecton (2024) - Review by Fionn O’Mahony

Victor Kossakovsky’s latest feature length opens with drone footage of a semi-deteriorated apartment block in Ukraine, abandoned by its residents as large segments have been reduced to rubble. One vertical shot of an exposed section of this devastated building reveals its inner contents; wardrobes, desks, vanity mirrors, boudoirs, which are all mostly left intact despite the destruction. This somewhat voyeuristic sequence offers a fleeting glimpse of multiple lives that once inhabited these apartments and went about their daily routines before having to evacuate. The conflict between Russia and Ukraine is not the central focus of the film however, and these looming shots of debris serve as a prologue to Kossakovsky’s examination of the production process of buildings, presenting us with a stark visual reminder of how easily our concrete homes can return to a state of rubble. Architecton (2024) gives viewers very little with regards to any definite meaning or didactic lessons, and instead presents us with a multitude of images of rocks being extracted from mountains, and the process of breaking them down so that they can be exported and placed on the assembly line to create concrete. When dialogue does occur, it happens during the scenes that focus on renowned Italian architect and designer Michele De Lucchi–the only pieces of the film that actually offer the audience any hint of a coherent narrative–as he designs an outdoor circle in his garden with a circumference made from the extracted stone. De Lucchi preaches his artistic insights as he maps out the boundaries for the circle, marrying the creative process with the practical elements unfolding on screen. Yet, the absence of narrative allows the film to provoke. While the focus of the vast majority of the film’s shots is simply of different variants of stone and structures made from it, cinematographer Ben Bernhard captures them stunningly with a range of innovative footage. A film such as this would not be nearly as effective without the incredible camerawork from Bernhard, and the experimental shots that he incorporates into the documentary make the deceptively mundane subject matter engrossing. For most audience members the process of mining and extracting the necessary resources to create our habitats is more than likely rather alienating. This is especially so when watching the ritual play out on screen, whether it’s an extreme close-up of rocks jittering on a conveyor belt as if participating in a dance (accompanied by Evgueni Galperine’s stellar score), or a bird’s-eye view shot of a manmade avalanche crashing down a mountain like a tidal wave. Kossakovsky presents these procedures in such a way that plays into the average person’s estrangement from mining operations; by filming them obscurely and creating a transcendental experience. Architecton raises a fecundity of questions, and even if it offers very few answers, it most certainly succeeds in making its viewers think; whether it's about the act of creating buildings and where our resources come from, or modern architecture’s lack of longevity.