Locarno 2026: Nighttime Violence and Hidden Eyes

In recent cinematic explorations, a striking and profound throughline emerges: the inescapable contemplation of death and mortality. Three distinct films—one from veteran auteur Hong Sang-soo, another from Beatrice Gibson, and a feature debut from Denis Côté—collectively offer a compelling meditation on existence that refuses easy answers, instead embracing complexity with remarkable rigor.

Hong Sang-soo’s work immediately dives into the melancholic reality of human connection against the backdrop of impermanence. His film Nowhere to Lay My Eyes follows an experimental filmmaker venturing to Jeju Island, seeking reconnection with her family after a decade of estrangement. Yet, within this gentle framework of familial visits and dinner table conversations, Hong masterfully unpacks the relationship between art, love, and loss. He confronts the very nature of grief by exploring scenes—from reflections on life’s transience to the stark reality of a burial ritual known as the “grass tomb.” These moments force viewers to grapple with our imperfect relationship to death, highlighting the profound duality of sensing loss and accepting it.

Hong’s cinematic vision is characterized by patience; he draws out rich inner lives from his performers, allowing characters to embody weighty philosophical ideas. Whether examining the comfort found in life’s impermanence through fleeting art or delving into the stark reality of funerary practices, the film remains intensely focused on existential human experience.

In a different visual landscape, Beatrice Gibson’s debut feature At Night> paints a pensive portrait set against the hypnotic beauty of a Parisian night. While steeped in dreaminess and urban allure, the film uses its setting to explore deep human connections. Unlike narratives focused on a single relationship, At Night> shifts focus to six women navigating their lives through shared debates at bars, on trains, and in cafés. The cinematography is tactile and immersive, capturing the fluorescent glow of windows and the warmth of streetlights, weaving an intricate tapestry of intersectional feminism, sexuality, and aging amidst the urban bustle.

Gibson layers this visual poetry with intellectual depth, incorporating literary references and poetic recordings to underscore her interest in mood and idea over conventional plot. The film moves with a laser focus, inviting viewers into soulful rhythms that sit delicately on the edge of undefinable truths.

Finally, Canadian filmmaker Denis Côté brings a stark existential thriller quality to his latest work, Nobody’s Violence>. The narrative follows Mira, a woman who works for a company facilitating assisted suicides for those with terminal conditions. Initially, the film promises an elusive character study of moral ambiguity and emotional release—moments where Mira grapples with compassion and trauma while moving between clients and fleeting personal connections.

However, as the story unfolds, Côté steers the narrative away from pure mystery. The deeper the exploration into morally complex situations, the more the film leans toward conventional genre angst. The initial quest to examine profound ethical dilemmas ultimately yields a more defined, albeit heartbreaking, dilemma for Mira as she navigates her final mission. This evolution demonstrates how powerfully an artist can shift the balance between ambiguity and clarity, transforming a brooding visual experience into a compelling examination of consequence.