A boy looks after his aged father. A girl in prison dreams of having a child. A man in prison dreams of giving her the child. A friend worries about his sexuality. Not much else happens in Daniel Sánchez Arévalo's Azuloscurocasinegro, but it's the way the things happen that matters. It's witty, charming, moving and stylish (and moving and stylish don't usually go together), and if you're looking for a name to drop as the next Alejandro Amenábar, then you could do worse than drop this one. It won several awards at the recent Málaga festival, but should probably have won more. Sánchez Arévalo, by the way, has his own blog, if you like that kind of thing. Along with Almodóvar's thoroughly convincing Volver (in which Penélope Cruz finally convinces Spain that she really can act), Azul is the Spanish film of the year so far.

Seen on a girl's t-shirt, whilst on a visit to the Madrid zoo on Saturday with my wife and son: "Don't Just Look - Tell Me". No, m'dear, no - probably best not to.