Films : Hotel Central : synopses
Hats on for this journey into an old country past. Room service with a difference: the phone rings in the wardrobe or the wilds. Nobody and everyman home. A grab bag of styles help us to feel like a man adrift in woodland.
We are floating somewhere between Les Vacances de M. Hulot and The Exorcist, thirty miles southwest of Leipzig, holding onto our hats.