The biggest news on streaming film this week (and in quite a while) was the announcement of FilmStruck, a new service featuring the broad library of Turner Classic Movies and the new exclusive streaming home of the Criterion Collection. While the price and launch date haven’t been disclosed yet, we know the service will feature thousands of advertising-free classic and contemporary films from both independent and Hollywood studios, making it an enticing new entry in the crowded streaming game. What’s more, the Criterion library will include additional content such as commentaries—this is a particularly interesting and unique offering for streaming sites and may help bring in the most hardcore film fans. It remains to be seen how special features will be integrated into the service (I recall similar promises when Criterion announced their partnership with Hulu, which will continue until November). There’s certainly a lot of warranted excitement surrounding FilmStruck. If you’re looking for something to stream this weekend, in particular documentaries, check out our recommendations below.

Netflix

Team Foxcatcher (Jon Greenhalgh, 2016)

Netflix’s next journey into the true crime genre, Team Foxcatcher takes a look at the infamous murder of Olympic wrestler David Schultz, previously dramatized by Bennett Miller’s underrated 2012 thriller Foxcatcher. John du Pont is certainly one of the most interesting true crime figures, perhaps even as eccentric as Robert Durst, so there is a deeper psychological study left here which Team Foxcatcher dives into using interviews and archival footage. Like the amazing current run of true crime stories, the film doesn’t need to over-sensationalize the unbelievable true story to make for a compelling character study and horrific recounting of events. And if you are inclined to dig even deeper on the Jon du Pont saga, you can also see the ESPN-produced documentary The Prince of Pennsylvania on Netflix.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
Begin Again (John Carney, 2013)
Democrats (Camilla Nielsson, 2014)
Hellion (Kat Candler, 2014)
Special Correspondents (Series, Season 1)
We Are Twisted Fucking Sister (Andrew Horn, 2014)

Fandor

For All Mankind (Al Reinert, 1989)

Al Reinart’s seminal space documentary For All Mankind has long been a member of the Criterion Collection and is now a highlight of Fandor’s “Criterion Picks”—this week boldly looking at science-fiction. The story of the men who have walked on the moon is much more dedicated to its breathtaking cinematography and philosophical concepts than simple profiles, making For All Mankind one of the most artful documentaries ever made. Other films included in sci-fi extravaganza are Fassbinder’s recently rediscovered World on a Wire, Chris Marker’s incredible short film that inspired 12 Monkeys, La Jetée, Japanese cult film The X from Outer Space, Tarkovsky’s serene Solaris, and more. This wide variety of selections from the popular genre are all available on Fandor until May 8.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
2 Autumns, 3 Winters (Sébastien Betbeder, 2013)
Below Dreams (Garrett Bradley, 2015)
Don’t Play Us Cheap (Melvin Van Peebles, 1973)
Lines of Wellington (Valeria Sarmiento, 2012)
Wake Up and Kill (Carlo Lizzani, 1966)

MUBI

Lessons of Darkness (Werner Herzog, 1992)

Over the past month or so, MUBI has focused on a run of Werner Herzog’s best documentaries, and this week comes one of his most cinematic. With minimal use of voice-over interviews, Lessons of Darkness photographs the oil fields of Kuwait, ravaged by war, in stunning detail. Anyone who knows Herzog’s work knows his complicated relationship with nature, and Lessons of Darkness is one of his most beautiful and devastating meditations. Lessons of Darkness is available on MUBI until May 28. For those who need to catch up on MUBI’s focus on Herzog documentaries, the other films now available are Fata Morgana, Land of Silence and Darkness, Little Dieter Needs to Fly, and Ballad of the Little Soldier—you’ll need to act fast to catch those while they last.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
Blue in the Face (Paul Auster & Wayne Wang, 1995)
Fragment 53 (Federico Lodoli & Carlo Gabriele Tribbioli, 2015)
On Football (Sergio Oksman, 2015)
Poet on a Business Trip (Ju Anqi, 2015)
Il Solengo (Alessio Rigo de Righi & Matteo Zoppis, 2015)

iTunes & Video On-Demand

Where to Invade Next (Michael Moore, 2015)

With election season ramping up, one of the most politically charged filmmakers working today takes on the concept of “American exceptionalism” with one of his most entertaining and least controversial works. Where to Invade Next uses a simple high concept that allows for Moore to travel through Europe and North Africa and find where countries are doing things right. He breaches a wide variety of political and social issues, from gay rights and gender equality to the prison system and education. The film is a far cry from a consistent and thorough look at these complex concepts, but it is a funny and enjoyable survey. Though it was a moderate success at the box office earlier this year, Where to Invade Next doesn’t seem to have reached the cultural consciousness to the degree of Moore’s other work. Still, it is definitely a film worth seeing, and you can now on iTunes and Video On-Demand.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
Backtrack (Michael Petroni, 2015)
Black Sails (Series, Season 3)
Deadpool (Tim Miller, 2016)
Mustang (Deniz Gamze Ergüven, 2015)
Son of Saul (László Nemes, 2015)

The Best Foreign Language Film category, whether it’s at the Oscars or any other awards show, always poses a strange question: how can you whittle the entire non-English speaking world down to five titles? When you compare this to the eight English-language nominees for Best Picture, it seems like an unfair balance. Now, granted, the Best Picture category isn’t limited to just English-language productions, but you’d be crazy to suggest that foreign productions have the same shot at getting a Best Picture nod as something like The Revenant or Brooklyn (past foreign language nominees like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and Amour are exceptions to the norm).

Even stranger is the method of selecting the nominees, which requires countries to submit only one film for consideration in the category. That means France, a country that consistently puts out some of the best cinema in the world every year, can only pick one film to represent their country in the category. But even then, the selected film needs to have a theatrical release within a specific time frame in their home country in order to truly qualify for the category. Those rules can get frustrating for some foreign language films, and the idea of contorting a release in one’s own home country just for the possibility of one award nomination thousands of miles away isn’t exactly an appealing one: in 2013, the French distributor of Blue is the Warmest Colour refused to change their release strategy, meaning one of the most buzzed about films of that year didn’t even qualify for the only category it had a shot of getting nominated in.

The point of all of this is that, like everything else at the Oscars, politics abound, and these nominees need to be taken with a big grain of salt. These five films are hardly representative of the best world cinema has to offer, but they’re far from being the worst either. This year, the Foreign Language category provided one big, welcome surprise: the nomination of Theeb, director Naji Abu Nowar’s film about a young member of a Bedouin tribe who gets caught up in the war taking place far from his community. I saw Theeb back at its New Directors/New Films screening and came away pleasantly surprised at its assuredness, especially coming from a first-time director. The fact that Theeb got a theatrical release in the US was great news on its own; its Oscar nomination should hopefully turn more people on to a great film that deserves to be seen (Theeb is currently out in limited theatrical release from Film Movement).

From the surprising to the not-so-surprising, it shouldn’t come as a shock that Hungary’s Son of Saul received a nomination in this category. It premiered at Cannes in 2015, where it scored the Grand Prix along with a nice distribution deal from Sony Pictures Classics. That, combined with the fact that it’s a Holocaust film, solidified Son of Saul’s appearance here, since at least one foreign language nominee must deal with the Holocaust in some way, shape or form. Critics and audiences have been over the moon for Son of Saul since its Cannes debut, but I came away disappointed after seeing it. Director Laszlo Nemes and cinematographer Matyas Erdely show off their formal skills with the film’s precise construction, using shallow focus and long takes to “immerse” viewers into the horrors of surviving Auschwitz, but it only calls attention to the film’s own technical achievements. And combining a form that’s all about showing itself off with one of mankind’s greatest tragedies makes for a pairing that’s ugly for all the wrong reasons. It’s disappointing to see that, in a year with so many strong films both nominated and eligible for the category, the award will wind up going to Son of Saul, whose bland, digestible form of “difficult” cinema makes its win more about people congratulating their own broadened cinematic horizons than celebrating the best nominee (Son of Saul is currently out in limited theatrical release from Sony Pictures Classics).

That brings me to Mustang, Deniz Gamze Erguven’s film which France submitted this year over Jacques Audiard’s Dheepan, a film most assumed would have been selected given its Palme d’Or win last year. It’s a choice only people who haven’t seen Mustang might find surprising, since those who have seen Mustang know it’s a legitimately great film through and through. Following five orphaned sisters living in a tiny Turkish village, the film portrays the girls’ struggles to fight back against old cultural, religious and patriarchal standards as they’re married off one-by-one in arranged ceremonies. The film may get a little too contrived as it goes along, but it’s impossible to deny that Erguven has crafted one powerful story of a fight for independence and freedom from the old, archaic ways of the past. Mustang has a small but fervent following since its US release in late 2015, and because of that, it might be the only film with a shot at taking the trophy away from Son of Saul (Mustang is currently out in limited theatrical release from Cohen Media Group).

For a nominee like Ciro Guerra’s Embrace of the Serpent, it should just be happy that it got nominated in the first place, as it’s probably too “out there” for people to consider choosing as the winner. Taking place between two periods of time, Guerra shows a shaman living deep in the Amazon as he helps two different scientists try to find a rare plant within the jungle. Embrace has its fair share of gorgeous cinematography, but like last year’s winner Ida it’s hard to find much to enjoy beyond its aesthetics. Unlike Son of Saul, Guerra’s form feels sincere in its attempts to pay respect to the location and cultures he profiles, but other than its pointed look at the devastating effects of colonialism the film comes across as Herzog-lite (Embrace of the Serpent will come out in limited theatrical release on Friday, February 17^th from Oscilloscope Pictures).

Finally, Tobias Lindholm’s A War is a fine follow-up to A Hijacking, which suffered an unfortunate case of timing when it came out around the same time as Paul Greengrass’ Captain Phillips. Taking place in Afghanistan, Lindholm focuses on a Danish army commander who winds up getting accused of a war crime after making a rash decision during a firefight. Denmark is no stranger to impressive yet overly manipulated drama—see previous Oscar nominee The Hunt, which Lindholm co-wrote—and A War is more of the same, showcasing a complex and nuanced situation with the efficiency of a procedural. Fans of this form of storytelling will find plenty to like here, while those who bristle at the staidness should stay far away. Lindholm continues to show he’s an excellent dramatist, and no matter what A War’s chances of winning might be, it’s difficult to argue against its presence in this category.

The worst part about creating a Best Of list is usually what’s not on it as opposed to what does wind up getting a place. There are simply too many films to go around in a year, and therefore too many good or great films to contain in a (relatively) small list. Even if we expanded our list to 50, the same problem would remain; there will always be something that misses out.

We like to be inclusive here at Way Too Indie, so we asked our writers to pluck a movie out of their individual top tens that didn’t make the cut and write about it. Below you’ll find what comprises our honorable mentions, fantastic films whose only problem was that the collective numbers didn’t work out in their favor. These are films that, just because a ranked number isn’t beside their title, doesn’t mean they can’t enlighten, entertain or duke it out with what makes up the consensus. And while our Top 20 is only a few days away from being revealed, we hope you’ll look at these films as an extension of that list, and a further sign of just how good of a year it was for film.

Way Too Indie’s 2015 Honorable Mentions

45 Years

Imagine sharing your life with someone for nearly half a century and then, a week before you celebrate your 45th wedding anniversary, you see and feel a side to them that makes you reevaluate your whole life with that person. The basic premise of Andrew Haigh’s 45 Years is as horrifying as it is simple; laying the foundation to one of the most quietly riveting pictures of the year. Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay portray Kate and Geoff Mercer with a kind of timid eloquence that makes you feel effortlessly and unequivocally attached to them not as characters, but as people. Living, breathing, fragile people. As it’s really Kate’s journey of introspection and observation, Charlotte Rampling takes up more of the central stage. Thanks to Haigh’s gentle and delicate direction, it almost feels like we hold Kate’s hand as she goes through the motions, with Rampling evoking more through the slightest of movements, whimpers, and fleeting glances than most actors can dream about. Two single-takes—one featuring a projector and another playing out to The Platters’ “Smoke Gets In Your Eye”—bring Haigh’s direction and Rampling’s performance to peak heights, confirming (in my opinion) the film’s status among the very best of the year. [Nik]

Amy

Amy Winehouse’s life story—the rock-n-roll fable with the unhappy ending—is a familiar one. And with Amy, director Asif Kapadia taps that familiar vein, hitting all the key points in her life as a good bio-doc director should. But that’s where the routine filmmaking ends and the dazzling presentation of the singer’s story begins. Kapadia mines exhaustive video footage of Winehouse’s life, particularly her pre-fame years, so much of which was captured on camera, allowing him to do more than just present Winehouse’s life; he is able to fully immerse the viewer in it, which is most impactful in Winehouse’s more mundane moments like hanging out at home, goofing off, sleeping in a car, etc. And because it’s mostly a linear presentation, it feels like you are growing up with Winehouse. When Winehouse’s later life devolves (and devolves again), Kapadia creates a sense of recall, of looking back at small things the viewer had “lived through” with younger Winehouse, ultimately creating the realization in the viewer they are watching Winehouse spiral downwards in real-time…and there is nothing that can be done about it. [Michael]

Blackhat

One of the most unfairly maligned films by mainstream audiences this year was Michael Mann’s Blackhat. After a six year hiatus following his 2009 masterpiece, Public Enemies, Mann has made what’s likely the best of the many films to tackle our relationship to technology this decade, a film deeply rooted in the identity of the 21st century. What was once tangible, physical, has been reduced to numbers, data, code. Human characters register as tiny, endangered organisms navigating a high-tech metropolis of their own creation. When they’re introduced to one another early on in the film, they work as a team, but it’s all business. They mirror the efficiency of technology in the orchestration of their mission to subdue the titular blackhat hacker. The last third of this film shifts tonally to move toward some of the most purely expressionist filmmaking to ever come out of Hollywood. Lighting and movement no longer distinguish setting or signify plot elements, but reflect mood instead. In this segment, the digital world has collapsed in the presence of man—computer wars have become fistfights. We feel the warm blood of the injured characters. The tangibility of their flesh permeates the screen. Mann suggests that there is no way to escape the infiltrating power of computerized entities, affirming that our humanity, and our ability to connect with those around us, is all we have left. [Cameron]

Girlhood

With a catchy dance song blaring on the soundtrack, Girlhood opens on a high school football game before providing two subversive reveals: it’s an all-girls football game, and both teams celebrate together afterward, focusing on the fun of playing rather than categorizing winners and losers. It’s one of many sly, evocative and welcome twists to the coming-of-age tale about Marieme (Karidja Toure, giving one of the most underappreciated performances of the year), a teenager who doesn’t transition into adulthood so much as get thrust into it by circumstances beyond her control. Sciamma tackles themes of race, gender, identity, friendship, family and more with a kind of naturalism that’s rarely seen; these themes are simply there, embedded in the day-to-day existence and addressed accordingly. Sciamma’s understanding of this is what helps make Girlhood such a powerful, moving and relatable film, even when its ideas are filtered through the specificity of Marieme’s story. Unlike that other coming-of-age tale, which portrayed growing up as a pacified journey through the status quo (a comparison I hate to bring up, given it’s mostly a coincidence of timing and titling), Girlhood shines a light on a perspective seldom seen, a life where becoming an adult is a constant struggle for the freedom from circumstance. If we had more films like Girlhood getting made, cinema would be in a much better place. [C.J.]

James White

James White, filmmaker Josh Mond’s directorial debut, is most likely a film that will garner acclaim solely for Christopher Abbott and Cynthia Nixon’s powerhouse performances. That’s a shame because the film itself is so much more than the sum of its parts, and one of the rawest, most genuine explorations of grief and parental loss in quite some time. James White follows its titular character—a young man in his twenties attempting to deal with the loss of a father he never really knew—while learning to cope with the fact that his mother, Gail, is likely to pass soon too. Mond, for an emerging artist, has a surprisingly vast knowledge of how to direct his actors, so that viewers feel like they’re watching people live their actual lives rather than performances on a set. Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély (Son of Saul) deserves special mention as his extreme close-ups and extended behind-the-shoulder tracking shots increase the intimacy of the relationship, not just between James and his mother, but between the film’s characters and their audience as well. [Eli]

Macbeth

There are many ways that one can bring Shakespeare to the big screen. You could play it safe and strictly adhere to the original text. Alternately, you could change everything, placing a modern day filter over the plot to make Shakespeare’s already universal themes somehow more relevant. With this most recent adaptation of Macbeth, director Justin Kurzel doesn’t quite fall into either camp. He keeps the words and 11th-century setting, but rips it out of its dry “high school English” associations, creating a highly visceral experience that is overwhelming in the best way possible. A deathly pallor hangs over the thing—provided in part by a dread-filled score—and the atmosphere is intensified by a perfectly integrated hint of the supernatural. In addition to the breathtaking visuals, a great depth of feeling is brought to the table by the actors. Michael Fassbender does career-best work with his portrayal of the mad Thane of Cawdor, and as Lady Macbeth, Marion Cotillard is brilliantly icy, but also increasingly disturbed by the monster she’s helped create. While it doesn’t top Kurosawa’s adaptation of the Bard in Throne of Blood, Kurzel’s Macbeth is a formidable achievement and one hell of an experience. [Byron]

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

I’m not sure what happened to the thunderous momentum Me and Earl and the Dying Girl had following its record-breaking distribution deal and glowing reviews from its Sundance premiere, but it’s unfortunate to see its praise evaporate. Loaded with self-aware wit from screenwriter Jesse Andrews (adapting the script from his own novel), director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon crafts one of the most charming and emotional films of the year. The film skirts most teenage drama conventions by putting everything on the table up front (the title says it all, really). With outstanding performances and creative camerawork, Gomez-Rejon offers a fresh take on a familiar story. It’s no secret how the film ends, yet Me and Earl and the Dying Girl remains a tear-jerker and one of the best films that 2015 had to offer. [Dustin]

Mustang

With every new year, I see more women onscreen. More women leading films, and more female casts proving they can carry films. As half of the population, it’s still so disappointing to me how little I see my gender represented onscreen. 2015 worked hard to continue tipping the scales. Many women led us through fantastic stories, expanding the scope and variety of female-centric films. A few of those films made our Best Of list, and our honorable mentions list isn’t nearly long enough (our apologies to The Diary of a Teenage Girl, Grandma, Trainwreck, and many others) but there’s no other film out this year that I am enforcing on all that I meet: first time writer/director Deniz Gamze Ergüven’s Mustang. The story of five rural Turkish girls’ summer break and the huge transitions enforced on them because of cultural tradition and old-fashioned female subjugation. A film as wild as its name implies in its tenacity, hilarity, and thrills, Mustang manages to cast an unblinking eye on the very real way women are still being feared because of their implied sexuality and for the unfortunate sin of being born female. Ergüven shows us modern, free-spirited young women, who think and behave much the same as any teenagers in the US but endure treatment that simultaneously feels alien and yet familiar. A tale of heroes, not victims, Mustang is entertaining, heart-pounding and utterly enlightening.  [Ananda]

Queen of Earth

Alex Ross Perry received indie acclaim last year for his sophomore release Listen Up Philip, an acerbic comedy praised for its intelligent script. His follow-up, Queen of Earth, is a dramatically different film, even as its characters continue to be wholly unlikable. Here, though, the pleasures come not from Perry’s expert wordsmithing but heightened emotions, kinetic editing and the performance of its star Elisabeth Moss. The film takes place primarily at a vacation home used as a summer getaway by two longtime friends, Catherine (Moss) and Virginia (Katharine Waterson). After Catherine finds out about her boyfriend’s infidelity, her growing depression only deepens while spending time with Virginia, a fading friendship that largely continues because of their summertime tradition. Mix in Virginia’s smug boyfriend (Patrick Fugit) as a perfect foil and Catherine’s psyche completely cracks. The film’s unusual structure gives the bleak tone different levels, but Catherine’s descent goes completely dark by film’s end. Queen of Earth is more of an impressionistic look at depression than a clinical one and the results are incredibly artful and soul-punching. [Aaron]

The Revenant

Leonardo DiCaprio and Emmanuel Lubezki do career best work in The Revenant, if that’s not enough to get you insanely excited for this film then nothing will. Lubezki (who probably will and should win a third straight Oscar for his work on this film) is a big reason for the effectiveness, beautifully capturing and making you feel the harsh conditions and environments that are present. This even tops Lubezki’s stunning work from The Tree of Life. DiCaprio deserves an equal amount of praise, for an actor who just did great work in The Wolf of Wall Street using his natural charm and the public’s perception of his own crazy lifestyle to drive the performance. It’s amazing to watch him strip himself of everything that naturally works for him. This is DiCaprio at his most restrained and physical and he knocks it out of the park. Combine these two with a strong supporting cast featuring Tom Hardy and Domhnall Gleeson, and the solid direction of Alejandro Inarritu, and we have one of the better films to come out of this awards season. [Ryan]

Seymour: An Introduction

There have been a lot of under-the-radar movies in 2015 I’ve kept in my back pocket, ready to pull out at parties when people ask me what they should be watching in the theater or on their sofa. Without exception, the one I reach for first is Seymour: An Introduction, the ravishing documentary by Ethan Hawke about retired concert pianist Seymour Bernstein. It’s not just the best documentary of the year; it’s one of the best movies of the year, period. There’s almost nothing I treasure more than being able to spend time chatting with a master of their craft, and this is the filmic version of such an experience, allowing us to sit at the feet of an artist who ceaselessly gives back to the art form he loves. There’s a tinge of melancholy to the filmmaking that sends chills down your spine when you least expect it, and you can tell Hawke approached the project with utmost appreciation, respect and humility. Once you hear Bernstein’s fingers touch his vintage piano for the first time, filling the room with a glorious sound like you’ve never heard, you understand why. [Bernard]

Spring

Good genre-benders are somewhat hard to come by because they generally lean too far on one side of the spectrum, resulting in elements on the other side falling flat. Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson’s romantic horror movie Spring is the exception—equal parts eerie and adorable, due in part to phenomenal performances from leads Lou Taylor Pucci and Nadia Hilker. Despite their abundance of shortcomings, the characters are relatable and likable, and their cursed love is emotive in all the right ways. Pucci and Hilker share a wonderful chemistry, but Moorhead and Benson make it clear that a happy ending is unlikely for the duo. As a result, the moments when things actually go as planned are joyous in a realistic, believable way. The frightening moments and phenomenal special effects are a horror fan’s dream, but the sequences are bittersweet as they mean certain danger for the protagonists. Spring is one of the most original films to come along in years, an absolute must-see piece of genre filmmaking that doesn’t play by the rules. [Blair]

Tangerine

From the moment that Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and Alexandra (Mya Taylor) spill out of a Donut Time and onto the streets of downtown Los Angeles, Tangerine becomes an entrancing, chaotic journey about two transgender prostitutes, the pimp boyfriend who cheated on one of them, and an Armenian cab driver with a taboo indulgence. Sean Baker’s fifth feature film is bathed in orange sunlight and joyfully lurid, but the strongest element of this ultra low budget feature is its resounding empathy for all involved. Both Rodriguez and Taylor—actual transgender women—imbue their characters with raw, acutely self-aware performances that have depth and humor to them.

Baker’s intimate perspective turns a funny, trashy exploitation film into a more profound and heartfelt character study. These are characters that are exceedingly charming despite their behavior, and relatable in unexpected ways. The fact that Baker achieved all this with a movie shot on the iPhone might be the most impressive aspect to Tangerine. The movie is easily one of 2015’s most pleasant surprises. [Zach]

Here at Way Too Indie, we have plenty of love for foreign language films. Not only do foreign films provide an easy way to travel to new lands and learn about different cultures, but they can also push boundaries, provoke new ways of thinking, and offer unique views from what we’re generally accustomed to. Some of the best films of 2015 came from places like Argentina, Israel, Spain, and Hungary. So if you’re looking to explore new boundaries and look beyond what’s available in English, be sure to check out the following list of diverse films.

Way Too Indie’s Best Foreign Films of 2015

10,000 KM

It’s hard to believe 10,000 KM was a debut feature considering how Carlos Marques-Marcet’s film is so mature and expertly crafted . Right off the bat, Marques-Marcet demonstrates his filmmaking abilities with a remarkable 20-minute take that follows a couple from room to room around their cozy Barcelona apartment. This single scene isn’t just impressive from a technical standpoint, it also provides exposition on their relationship and introduces the central conflict of the film. Just when they decide to settle down together, one partner receives a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in Los Angeles. But they won’t let geography put their intimate relationship on hold, especially when modern technology allows them to be just a click away from video chat, Facebook updates, and instant messaging. However, Marques-Marcet illustrates the frustrations from a lack of a physical presence, and how being digitally connected simply isn’t the same. It’s an up close and personal film, with both characters confined by the interiors of their apartments and bound by their laptop screens. 10,000 KM features a simple yet universal love story told in a bold, unapologetic, and genuine way. [Dustin]

Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem

A pressure-cooker courtroom drama for the ages, Ronit and Shlomi Elkabetz’s Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem is both a direly important film and a stunningly artful one. The story is one of frustration, frustration belonging to the eponymous Viviane, an unhappy Israeli wife desperate to be free of her marriage. The injustice is this: In Israel, divorce can only commence if the husband consents; the wife has no say. The film takes place entirely within the cold walls of the Rabbinical courtroom in which Viviane’s pleas for separation are squashed over and over again. Few films are as frustrating, and few films are as inspired. Ronit Elkabetz is transcendent as Viviane not just because she’s a great actor, but because the pain she’s expressing is same pain felt by thousands of women in Israel today, ones who can’t escape the horror when the camera stops rolling. [Bernard]

Hard to Be A God

Conceived in the 1960s, shot in the 2000s, and finally finished in 2013, Aleksei German’s magnum opus Hard to Be a God could easily claim the title of filthiest movie ever made without anyone batting an eye. German’s sci-fi adaptation takes place in the future, but the setting is a recently discovered planet that’s just like Earth, except the planet’s civilization is currently living out its pre-Renaissance era. The camera, always moving and in deep focus, captures it all with a realism and sense of immersion that few films have achieved before, making Hard to Be a God a simultaneously grueling and exhilarating experience. Not many people will be up for German’s challenge here, but those willing to roll around in the mud will find themselves awestruck at the staggering, groundbreaking vision on display. Some films are hard to shake off, but Hard to Be a God is in a class of its own; this is a movie you have to scrub off. [C.J.]

Mommy

Xavier Dolan’s emotional tale of a single mother’s struggle to raise her troublemaking teenage son is one of the most unexpectedly intense films to come along in quite some time. Utilizing a strange yet aesthetically pleasing 1:1 aspect ratio, Mommy feels contained and dangerous. The teenage boy, Steve (Antoine-Olivier Pilon), has a tendency to grow uncontrollably violent, giving the film a suspenseful aura. The bizarre nature of the mother/son relationship, led by a fantastic lead performance from Anne Dorval makes Mommy an absolute must-see and one of the best of the year. The remarkable soundtrack is merely a bonus. [Blair]

Phoenix

German filmmaker Christian Petzold and the always stunning Nina Hoss have already collaborated with one another on multiple cinematic endeavors, but it seems their developing actor-director chemistry has, at long last, culminated in a masterpiece. Petzold’s post-Holocaust psychodrama is a slow-burner focusing on the fragile and traumatized Nelly Lenz, a facially disfigured (and essentially unrecognizable) concentration camp survivor who emerges from the War as the sole survivor of her family. From there, the audience follows her on a covert journey not only to discover whether her husband—in her “previous existence”—might have given her up to the Nazis, but if so, whether she’d be able to accept that fact and readjust to the exhausting task of simply living again. Hoss’ tour de force performance is a behemoth exertion of emotionally realized acting ability, and the film concludes on a such a remarkable note that you may need a fellow viewer to help peel your jaw from the floor once the end credits start rolling (unless they, too, are stuck in the same predicament). [Eli]

The Assassin

Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s wuxia masterwork is one of the most beautiful films I’ve ever seen. Its detractors accuse it of being unbearably slow, but I found myself unable to keep up with it. Each image contains so much content to observe and digest, from the props and costumes to abstract items like the placement of shadows or the nuance of facial expressions. Shu Qi’s marvelously restrained performance anchors Hou’s limitless vision. The cinematography is unspeakably gorgeous, and some of the shots are all-timers. The artistry is so unfathomably gorgeous and immersive that, unless one is an expert at cinematic self-discipline, unpacking its narrative and how the characters precisely relate to one another will require multiple viewings. The Assassin is the only film released this year I’ve had the pleasure of watching four times, and each time the experience was equally rich, if not richer, than that first overwhelming, borderline spiritual experience in theaters. This is the kind of film that reminds me why I love cinema — its ability to transport the viewer to exotic, wondrous realms, its power to make ancient characters immediate, and it’s breathtaking ability to leave me in a state of borderline paralysis. [Cameron]

The Look of Silence

Three years ago, Joshua Oppenheimer’s The Act of Killing was a complete revelation—a cathartic, powerful documentary about a genocide told from the perspective of those who perpetrated it. When I heard about the follow-up project, called The Look of Silence, I doubted it could possibly recapture the unique quality. It’s true, The Look of Silence isn’t as big as The Act of Killing, but it is just as (if not more) visceral. The new film lacks the other-worldly personalities of the gangsters, but turning the perspective to the victims allows for Oppenheimer to tone down the style for a straight-forward emotional gut punch. The film absolutely keeps Oppenheimer’s edge, though, by bringing together the victim subjects face-to-face with the men responsible for their personal loss—this happens a few times within the film with different groups, but each play out in different and surprising ways. The Look of Silence isn’t just a supplement; it stands on its own, captures new voices in this larger story, and creates a number of incredible moments of emotional release that stand apart from the original. [Aaron]

When Marnie Was There

In 2014, people endlessly praised Studio Ghibli’s The Tale of Princess Kaguya as yet another masterpiece from the slowly dwindling company (after Hayao Miyazaki’s retirement, Ghibli announced they would be taking a bit of a break). But in my opinion, this year’s When Marnie Was There blows Kaguya and other recent Ghibli titles out of the water. Adapted from Joan G. Robinson’s novel, Marnie follows depressed adolescent Anna as she spends the summer with relatives of her adopted mother. Feeling alienated and alone, Anna’s expectations of a dismal summer change when she meets Marnie, a mysterious girl who lives in an isolated mansion right next to the sea. By Ghibli standards director Hiromasa Yonebayashi’s visual style is subdued, but it’s still stunning in its naturalistic beauty, and the film’s honest portrayal of depression is both welcome and seemingly unprecedented for a children’s movie. When Marnie Was There may not showcase the same fantastical imagery of Kaguya or classics like Spirited Away but its story, a supernatural tale of friendship that travels through time, has just as much imagination and power as the company’s best work. [C.J.]

White God

Rare is the film whose animal actors are more compelling than its human ones, but such is the case with the brutal, rousing, sharply allegorical White God, written and directed by Hungarian filmmaker Kornél Mundruczó. The beating heart of this arresting tale of doggie rebellion is the collective canine presence, dogs playing deadly, desperate revolutionaries in a more convincing, emotionally stirring manner than the throwaway fodder in most wartime period pieces. It’s hard to imagine a revenge fantasy wilder and more unique than Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds, but Mundruczó’s film is exactly that. Suspenseful, powerful, sentimental, technically honed—few moviegoing experiences were as rich in 2015. Watching the dogs rip and claw at each other for the sake of their despicable owners’ entertainment isn’t an easy thing to stomach, but through a parabolic lens, there’s a profundity to all the thrashing and gnawing, particularly when fang meets human flesh. [Bernard]

Wild Tales

A 2014 Academy Award nominee for best foreign language film, Wild Tales didn’t receive a U.S. theatrical release until early 2015. Typically, films released that early in the year don’t come up around award season—usually because films are often dumped there, but even the good ones are easy to forget over time. Wild Tales is an unforgettable exception. Made up of six independent short films, Damián Szifrón’s film packs a darkly-tuned punch, exploring revenge and retribution in a variety of situations. Each of the segments aren’t created equal (ranking them seems to be a necessary part of every review), but they bring together a similar style and tone that ties them all into a cohesive unit which builds upon it self from beginning to end. The standout piece is the opening scene, the shortest and most clearly defined by the film’s theme. From there, Wild Tales explores corrupt bureaucracy, personal slights, sexual infidelities and even more with humor and a definite dark streak. It might not have the emotional resonance of the other films on this list, but you won’t find a more entertaining one in the bunch. [Aaron]

Honorable Mentions

With a ton of exceptional foreign films to choose from, there are going to be some worth mentioning that just missed the cut. For instance, Deniz Gamze Ergüven’s emotional sister confinement film Mustang, and Jafar Panahi’s Taxi fell just a couple votes shy of making our main list. And it would be shame not to acknowledge the efforts of Céline Sciamma’s fresh coming-of-age drama Girlhood, the beautiful sensory experience of Blind, the Icelandic black comedy Of Horses and Men, and remarkable Holocaust drama Son of Saul.

Another year, another collection of unforgettable films, and another collection of unforgettable moments. Our list of unforgettable films is still on its way, but like last year we feel compelled to single out some scenes from 2015 that bowled us over and stayed in our brains. Some of these scenes are moments we cherish from our favorites this year, and others are great highlights from films that might not have been able to squeeze into our top tens. But as varied as this list may be, everything on it is another reason why we still love watching movies (even if that means watching a lot of duds). Read on to see what we loved from this year, and be sure to let us know what moments or scenes you couldn’t forget.

45 Years – The Anniversary Party

I’m a little hesitant to go into much detail on the anniversary party scene of Andrew Haigh’s 45 Years, as it is the culminating scene of this fine film, but it without a doubt deserves recognition. By the time the characters and audience have arrived at this scene, so much emotional turmoil has been quietly digested. In a typical film, this would finally boil over, acting as the ultimate breaking point that the film was literally building to from the beginning. Here, however, it becomes a beautiful and very sad interplay between its celebrated couple. Charlotte Rampling is particularly stunning here, all the way up to the film’s final shot—she has gone through so much internal struggle that you almost want her to explode, but for the actress’ better judgment, she gives the scene so much more complexity when the cracks begin to show. [Aaron]

Arabian Nights: Volume 2 – The Desolate One – The Tears of the Judge

Miguel Gomes’ Arabian Nights trilogy is filled with highlights and lowlights, but of the many stories told over the trilogy’s combined ~6.5-hour runtime, this bravura 40-minute segment in Volume 2 is by far the best part of all three films. Taking place in an outdoor courtroom, a judge (Luisa Cruz) presides over a case involving apartment tenants selling furniture belonging to their landlord. The judge declares it to be a simple case of theft, but when she decides to probe further (“to share thoughts and moralities with you all,” she explains to the crowd watching the case) she triggers a convoluted blame game. The defendants argue that their landlord is a vile person, which leads to testimony saying he abuses 911 operators, and from there genies, cows and polygamy get thrown into the mix. This is blunt, on-the-nose political filmmaking of the best kind, with Gomes increasing the absurdity of the situation at an exponential rate with each new development. It’s smart, hilarious stuff, and the story’s bookending sequences—involving the judge’s daughter losing her virginity—adds the kind of sting that turns good satire into great satire. [C.J.]

Bone Tomahawk – Meal Prep

Bone Tomahawk opens with the image of someone getting their throat slit with a dull knife, a grisly scene that helps establish writer/director S. Craig Zahler’s preference for brutal, realistic violence. But that opening won’t prepare anyone for what comes much later (almost 90 minutes later, to be precise), well after Zahler’s film has settled into a pleasantly poky groove. Our four heroes, on a trip to save their friends and loved ones from cannibalistic cave dwellers, find themselves captured by their foes, and Zahler shows what happens when one person gets selected to be the next meal. It’s a horrifying sight that’ll have viewers covering their eyes and plugging their ears (God only knows what was used to create those sound effects), and Zahler puts splatter filmmakers like Eli Roth—who tried his hand at cannibal horror this year with The Green Inferno—to shame. Just remind yourself to watch this film on an empty stomach whenever you get the chance to see it. [C.J.]

Eastern Boys – Home Invasion

The opening minutes of Robin Campillo’s Eastern Boys shows middle-aged Daniel (Olivier Rabourdin) approaching young male prostitute Marek (Kirill Emelyanov) and propositioning him for sex. Marek agrees to meet Daniel at his apartment the next day, but Daniel has no idea what he’s in for once there’s a knock at his door. Instead, almost a dozen people come pouring into his apartment one at a time, all of them part of Marek’s gang run by the charismatic and intimidating Boss (Daniil Vorobyev). It’s a surreal sequence running just over 20 minutes in length, and it’s all the more fascinating by Daniel’s unorthodox reaction to the situation; he quietly lets Boss and his underlings steal everything out of his place, and when the boys start an impromptu dance party in his living room he joins in. It’s a remarkable experience watching it all unfold, with Campillo oscillating between the intensity of the scenario (culminating in an unexpected act of violence) and how alluring it is for Daniel to be surrounded by so many objects of his desire. The rest of Eastern Boys doesn’t maintain the same quality, but Campillo has created an undeniable mini-masterpiece with this one sequence. [C.J.]

Entertainment – The Heckler

Rick Alverson, who’s quickly established himself as a master of cringe humour, creates yet another masterpiece of discomfort with this scene in Entertainment. While doing a show at a tiny bar somewhere in the California desert, The Comedian (Gregg Turkington, aka Neil Hamburger) gets interrupted by what he thinks is a heckler (Amy Seimetz, making the most of her brief screentime). But Alverson shows what Turkington’s character didn’t see: that the heckler was getting harassed by a man at the bar, her outburst directed at the man beside her and not on stage. That doesn’t stop The Comedian from tearing into her, hurling a barrage of nasty (and funny) insults her way. The sequence works so well because of the way Alverson constructs it within the familiar framework of a drama or character study; take away the context behind Seimetz’s “heckling” and the scene can look like Turkington defiantly taking down a critic. Instead it’s something much uglier, going against expectations and turning the protagonist into a villain. Alverson’s films are never easy, but that’s what makes them great. [C.J.]

The Forbidden Room – “The Final Derriere”

A musical interlude about a man’s addiction to female rumps (and the bizarre method he chooses to overcome it) would be strange in most any film, but it even stands out in Guy Maddin’s wackadoodle masterpiece The Forbidden Room. In the scene, the great Udo Kier plays a man tormented by a whip-wielding “Master Passion” (a fine cameo by Geraldine Chaplin). The song is incredibly catchy, a mix of styles just like the film, with a bit of a Beach Boys sound, a bit of Queen’s theatrics, a bit new wave and even a bit heavy metal—but it is without a doubt a singular piece, telling a singular story. It’s also an incredibly catchy tune; I’ve been humming “a little more off the top, a little more off the top” since I first watched the film. This plays beautifully off how morbid and grotesque both the song’s content and Maddin’s images are, tapping into the absurdity that The Forbidden Room wears so well. [Aaron]

Girlhood – “Diamonds”

From the outset, Céline Sciamma’s Girlhood establishes the hard conditions of its main character Marieme (Karidja Touré). She’s doing poorly at school, stuck in an abusive situation with her family, and feeling alienated. It’s only when she meets a group of three outspoken girls who eventually befriend her that she starts to feel a sense that she belongs somewhere, and Sciamma beautifully shows the precise moment when Marieme finally embraces her new identity. The girls rent out a hotel room for the night, a means of escaping their problems, and Marieme watches as her new friends sing along to Rihanna’s “Diamonds” under a blue light. Marieme sits back watching before finally joining in on the fun, and Sciamma (who lets the song play out in its entirety) lights the scene to make all four girls look like they’re glowing. It’s a touching, celebratory moment, where Sciamma gives her characters the opportunity to break free from their lives and truly be themselves, even if it’s only for a moment. [C.J.]

Mad Max: Fury Road – The Bullet Farmer’s Final Charge

Pulling a cartridge from his mouth, the villainous leader of the Wasteland’s arms faction croons: “One angry shot…for Furiosa!” Decked out in a bullet belt headdress, perched atop a golden tank tread vehicle and literally armed to the teeth, he speeds into the night. Meanwhile, our tough band of defectors and escapees struggle to pull the stalled War Rig out of the mud, their ears perking up as distant shots ring out. In a film loaded with explosive, go-for-broke chase sequences and wildly eccentric displays, the Bullet Farmer’s solo charge might be my favorite combination of both elements. The character’s blind machine gun spray (perfectly accented by an impassioned appeal to the heavens and Verdi’s booming “Dies Irae”) is a gloriously mad affair. However, the sequence is grounded by a wordless interaction between Furiosa and Max in which Furiosa uses her comrade to stabilize her rifle, making a perfect shot and shattering the Farmer’s searchlight. The foggy atmosphere and deep blue day-for-night lighting only add to scene’s deliriously intoxicating effect. [Byron]

Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation – Vienna Opera House

The Vienna Opera House sequence is the “Burj Khalifa moment” of Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation. It may not be as spectacularly white-knuckle or as death-defying in its stunt work, but for my money, it’s the biggest show-stopper in a thriller boasting several great candidates. Partially set to an emotionally stirring performance of “Nessun Dorma,” the scene offers intense hand-to-hand combat and a mysterious cat-and-mouse game. Christopher McQuarrie’s intricate direction closely details a number of moving pieces, Tom Cruise does a solid job of conveying his character’s conflicted feelings, and everything builds to an intelligent climax. It’s one of the best set pieces of the year. [Byron]

Mustang – The Soccer Game

More of a plot point than a specific scene, the events that lead to and come from the attendance of a soccer game really scores the special quality of Deniz Gamze Ergüven’s female-driven Mustang. Due to violent hooliganism, Turkish officials decide that all men will be barred from an upcoming match. This sparks soccer fan Lale to enlist her sisters (who don’t care too much for the sport) to sneak out from their small town and sheltered lives and take part. It’s really a minor part of the first act, a short sequence that could probably be the greater plot of another film, but it encapsulates the spirit of its characters so incredibly well. What’s more, it leads to a wonderful and surprising action from the girls’ aunt in what soon after becomes a very haunting and serious film. [Aaron]

Phoenix – “Speak Low”

There aren’t enough superlatives to describe the ending of Phoenix, Christian Petzold and Nina Hoss’ latest collaboration. For most of its runtime, Petzold’s film is a narratively straightforward and psychologically complex tale of disfigured Holocaust survivor Nelly (Hoss) trying to regain her old identity after receiving facial reconstruction surgery. But when Nelly finally accepts the reality of her situation and rises from the ashes, Petzold closes Nelly’s story with a breathtaking wallop. Without going into specifics (seriously, stop reading and go watch Phoenix already), Nelly sings the song “Speak Low,” and through her performance the story unravels and resolves itself in a way that inspires chills. It’s by far the best ending to any movie this year, and could easily go down as an all-timer. [C.J.]

A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence – The Third Meeting with Death

Roy Andersson’s filmmaking style makes for easy inclusion in lists like this, as his work often takes on an episodic quality. Many of the funny, poignant or disturbing scenes in A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence could make the cut, but it’s the third in the film’s opening trilogy of scenes (marked as three meetings with death) the leaves the biggest impression. The first two scenes are brief bits of physical humor: a man who collapses while struggling to uncork a bottle and a woman on her death-bed desperately clutching a handbag. These are audacious and quite funny, but the third scene adds Andersson’s incredible dryness. To set the stage: a man has died while in line at a cafeteria. While three obnoxiously stiff officials wonder aloud what they should do with the body, the nearby cashier pipes in with a question: what should she do with the food he purchased? The matter-of-fact, monotone response, thought out way too meticulously, and the reaction of the gathered crowd of diners are wonderfully characteristic examples of Andersson’s odd look at human nature. [Aaron]

Steve Jobs – John Scully vs. Steve Jobs

A showcase of a writer at the height of his powers. this scene can be classified as a verbal set piece. Just moments before taking the stage to introduce the NeXT Computer, Jobs is challenged by Apple CEO John Sculley (Jeff Daniels), about the myths surrounding why Jobs was ousted. What follows is a bravura sequence seamlessly weaving between past and present at breakneck speed. Aaron Sorkin’s dialogue is sharper and more acidic than ever, and the sequence has dips and climaxes that are more potent than most action movies. For a scene that is essentially two men standing in a room and talking, it’s overwhelmingly energetic and the performances really help viewers invest in the words being spoken. [Byron]

Wild Tales – Pasternak

Anthology films are rarely as successful as Damián Szifrón’s Wild Tales. The film’s six shorts are thematically linked, but I would argue their strongest connection is in tone, which is beautifully set by the film’s opening segment. Without giving too much away (because there is a brilliant twist in there), we open on an airplane where a man makes small talk with a beautiful woman across the aisle. They realize, through what seems like blind luck, that they have a common acquaintance—a failed composer who used the date the woman and studied under the man. You won’t believe what happens next. Once the scene ends, anyone watching Wild Tales is ready to know just how dark the film is willing to go, and just how creatively it can get there. Of all the films within the film, the opening is the most wildly enjoyable and the most successful in marrying the film’s themes with its point-of-view. Without this segment or its placement in the film, Wild Tales wouldn’t click so well as one of the best films of the year. [Aaron]

What else?

We’d be foolish not to give some sort of shout out to other terrific scenes throughout the year, like the hilarious funeral sequence in Li’l Quinquin, which had us doubled over from laughter; both the border crossing and night vision sequences in Sicario; the ending of Carol, which should get an emotional response out of even the coldest souls; the opening long take in Buzzard, a painfully funny experience much like Entertainment; the bonkers final act of Jauja; a scorching scene from The Fool where the town mayor lays into her corrupt staff; everything that happens at Mamie Claire’s house in Mistress America; the intense argument between Gerard Depardieu and Jacqueline Bissett in Welcome to New York; the tightrope sequence in The Walk, and much, much more.

Writer/director Deniz Gamze Ergüven has explained that her film Mustang—which was filmed in Turkey, spoken in Turkish, and labeled a French film because of the country of origin of its director—doesn’t have any alternate foreign language title. Apparently “mustang” is mostly a universal term. In Ergüven’s film, the word couldn’t have been more aptly chosen. If a mustang is an unbroken and unbridled creature, the five young women featured in this film embody exactly that. What starts as a dreamy and playful look at rambunctious and headstrong girls in their youthful prime melds subtly and meaningfully into a powerful view into the barbarously different female experience for women in different parts of our world.

In a small Turkish coastal town, five sisters start their summer break from school by exerting their tenacity and free will, splashing through the beach as they walk home and playing games of chicken with teenaged boys from their school. The youngest of them, Lale (Gunes Sensoy), exhibits the most spunk, determined to match her elder sisters—Nur (Doga Zeynep Doguslu), Ece (Elit Iscan), Selma (Tugba Sunguroglu), and Sonay (Ilayda Akdogan)—in confidence and self-expression. When they arrive home from their last school day, their grandmother (Nihal Koldas) awaits ready to lash out at the girls for their improper behavior, word of which has traveled through the small town amongst local gossips. The girls react strongly, protecting one another from beatings and rushing to tell-off the righteous woman who ratted on them.

Their total dismissal of their grandmother’s reaction is energetically humorous and does well to quickly showcase the tight-knit nature of these five sisters. But this seemingly harmless incident kickstarts a reactionary response from their family—both their grandma and uncle look after the girls who were orphaned years before. It begins tediously enough with the girls being restricted from leaving the house and forced to partake in traditional lessons from their grandmother and other local women. The girls learn to cook and sew and are forced to start wearing modest long brown dresses. They make do, running around the house in bras and underwear, playing games with one another and sneaking out down their drain pipe. The girls are annoyed with the new regime of no computers or phones, but continue to speak their minds and exert their individuality, expressing themselves in rebellions both big and small.

A trip to town one day makes their grandmother’s intentions a bit clearer to the girls. She asks them to walk through the town center displaying the girls to the families and men also there. Clearly the lessons and increased restrictions are measures meant to make the girls more marriable. The two eldest girls are the first to undergo the traditional arrangements, a brief meeting with the family of an eligible boy and a quick betrothal. Sonay manages to bully her grandmother into arranging a marriage with a boy she has already been sneaking around with and fallen for, but her sister is forced to accept the arrangements made for her.

The push from adolescence to adulthood in the film is less coming of age than innocence taken, but Ergüven—who co-wrote the script with Alice Winocour—doesn’t allow the film to wander too far into tragic victimization, instead providing one of the most tenacious films on female empowerment to come out in recent years. As the girls are ripped apart, their connected strength waning, it’s Lale, the youngest, who refuses to accept the fate laid out for her by her elders. And just like that, Mustang moves from being a disturbing cultural insight to an adrenaline pumping getaway.

Despite its rural setting and the rather alien practices performed in the film, Mustang is distinctly contemporary and salient. The judgment on these girls’ feminity and the perceived threat of their sexuality and the urgency to curb it is so incredibly universal. But even more relatable (to a degree) as their oppression is, what is most piercing about Ergüven’s film is the obvious and fierce response of these siblings. Oppression occurs everywhere, but outrage and advocacy do as well. This fight belongs to many in the world, from rural Turkey to New York City, and the film is the best kind of sticking agent, uniting anyone who feels the injustice.

The young actresses of Mustang are critical to its flawlessness, right down to their identically long flowing—and distinctly unbridled-horse-esque—hair. Their chemistry is altogether magical and almost documentary feeling in its sincerity. Ergüven’s light touch allows the film’s inexperienced stars to shine. The film’s pacing is perfect, with quiet moments accenting the isolation of the girls’ house or the many ways in which they bond with one another in their imprisonment. Warren Ellis’s off-kilter score fits the mood, never letting it get too sappy or alternately too rambunctious.

Mustang is France’s entry into this year’s Academy Awards and for sheer surefootedness from its first time director alone, it is sure to be the sort of film that gets attention. And rightly so. In highlighting both the unfortunate extreme of female persecution and also the most extreme courage and perseverance in the face of such inequality, and by making its hero a very young and determined girl, Mustang manages to shed light on the wrongs of today while instilling hope in the tenacity of the future.

Everything about this film is brave, but more significant is the way it imbues bravery on those who watch.