Five years after they shared a Barcelona flat, the characters from Cedric Klapisch's Pot Luck reassemble for a St Petersburg wedding in the even more free-spirited sequel, Russian Dolls. Klapisch is clearly intent on out-Godarding the nouvelle vague with his recklessly restless style. But his resolutely modern techniques do capture the skittishness of Romain Duris's confused search for both a partner and a purpose.

Indeed, in less capable hands, such peregrinations would collapse into a mess of contrivances and sightseeing opportunities. But while Duris's relationship with Kelly Reilly, as they work together on a tele-soap, is sweetly engaging, reunions with Audrey Tautou's flighty ex and Ccile De France's feisty lesbian and a diversionary fling with supermodel Lucy Gordon feel less successfully integrated. Yet for all its self-conscious pizzazz, this is still irresistibly entertaining.

We remain in Eastern Europe for Lajos Koltai's superb adaptation of Nobel laureate Imre Kertsz's Holocaust memoir, Fateless.

Scored by the peerless Ennio Morricone and revealing Koltai's cinematographic background, this harrowing tale of a Hungarian teenager's survival of the Nazi death camps has none of the calculation that blighted Schindler's List and, instead, provides a genuinely moving and authentic eyewitness account of one of history's most shameful episodes.

Draining light and colour from the action as hope fades and reality dawns in Auschwitz, Buchenwald and the Zeitz labour facility, Gyula Pados's evocative photography gives Marcell Nagy's incomprehending odyssey an ethereal feel, while also reinforcing the hideous truth behind the matter-of-fact detail in Tibor Lazar's exceptional designs.

But nothing disconcerts the viewer more than distanced depiction of fascist brutality, which finds harrowing echo in the ruins of Dresden and Budapest, as the emaciated boy makes his pitiful way home in 1945.

The attitude towards death is markedly more irreverent in Scott Ryan's bravura showpiece The Magician, in which he also stars as the Melbourne hitman who agrees to appear in Massimiliano Andrighetto's student movie. Shot on a shoestring, yet packed with coarsely witty and impeccably timed dialogue, this assured directorial debut will amuse admirers of either Chopper or the Belgian mockumentary Man Bites Dog. But while Ryan's script keeps coming up with absurd incidents, the lengthy car journey to retrieve a buried bribe offered by a potential victim occasionally exposes the fact that the action was extended from a 30-minute short.

Another maverick features in one of the two genuine documentaries that are also on offer this week. Occasionally recalling Tarnation, Jonathan Caouette's remarkable memoir of domestic dysfunction and conflicted identity, Jeff Feuerzeig's The Devil and Daniel Johnston chronicles the gradual descent into mental illness of a cult indie-rock icon, whose problems seemed to begin when he realised that the girl of his dreams didn't love him.

But while Feuerzeig is clearly fond of Johnston and his babbling delivery of his child-like lyrics, the film leaves the lingering suspicion that Johnston has largely been exploited by curio seekers since his discovery on an MTV open-mike special and the greater sympathy ultimately lies with the unappreciated parents who have had to cope with his drug binges, mood swings and bouts of satanic paranoia.

Although he's best known for his writing collaborations with Lars von Trier, Tmas Gislason is very much an editor at heart and his genius for juxtaposition and pacing renders Overcoming, his insight into the physical and psychological torments of the Tour de France, a sporting masterclass. Shooting over eight months with 32 cameras, Gislason amassed 1,000 hours of footage, which he dextrously distilled to produce moments of intense cycling drama and compelling human interest. The use of zooms, split screens, parallel montages, captions and variegated film speeds goes some way to capturing the romance and excitement of the race. But the private sacrifices made by the Danish CSC team and the frustrations felt by manager Bjarne Riis (a one-time winner who still resents having to retire) bring home the punishing realities of competing in this most unforgiving of events.