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.

English-Jordanian filmmaker Naji Abu Nowar crafts an assured and sharply focused debut feature in Theeb, a clear-cut yet culturally rich tale of survival centered around a young boy from the Ottoman province of Hijaz during World War I. The modest coming of age story has garnered vague comparisons to Lawrence of Arabia, with which it shares not only a time and place but exact filming locations. Nowar smartly inverts Lean’s Western perspective, presenting a distinctly fresh take on familiar territory that proves a simple narrative can become more layered when it transpires from a point of view that seldom receives screen time.

The titular young boy (Jacir Eid Al-Hwietat), whose name we eventually discover means “Wolf” in Arabic, is not thrust into an adventure by chance, but instead willingly follows his brother Hussein (Hussein Salameh Al-Sweilhiyeen) away from their campsite. Hussein has been tasked with aiding another man in guiding a stubborn Englishman (Jack Fox) to his desired destination. The Englishman is quickly angered when Theeb, on several occasions, attempts to examine his various trinkets and possessions. This action and reaction not only characterizes Theeb as a curious youth, but also uses the Englishman as a symbol for a dryly funny jab at the avarice inherent to colonialism, which one can glean Nowar is neither fond of, nor interested in exploring any further. The film seems decidedly more invested in the cultural identity of its region than any potential commentary on a single cultural presence in particular.

That being said, Nowar also maintains an exceptionally narrow and deliberate focus on Theeb. The young boy is prominent in every scene, the narrative never ceasing to unwind from his unique perspective. When gunshots echo over towering hills of sand in the distance, they register not as an intimate or familiar danger, but an emblem of fear, the gravity of which we are just beginning to fully comprehend. It is remarkable how many situations throughout Theeb’s brisk 100-minute run time feel as though we are witnessing them through a boy’s eyes. Very few first-time filmmakers have such a keen ability to interpret their story precisely how it would be perceived by their central character. Perhaps what is most impressive about Nowar’s work here is his ability to frame and divulge information through these deceptively simple gestures.

One could label the film as minimalist without worrying about any receptive indignation. Nothing in Nowar’s picture is ambiguous or difficult, and the storytelling is always lean and direct. Moment by moment, our interest is captured through restrained tension. If Nowar needs to convey that bandits are hunting Theeb, he points the camera at the frightened boy in hiding as opposed to the bloodthirsty bandits, building a form of suspense that is rare in American cinema, one that eats away at audiences slowly, exploiting their fear of the unknown. This approach also enhances our intimacy with Theeb and stays true to the film’s conceit of being seen entirely through his eyes.

Perhaps the only drawback to Nowar’s approach is that it results in a film that registers as relatively slight. After all, the story is admittedly straightforward and its direction is tight, uncompromising in its commitment to depicting a world of warring men through the mindset of a wide-eyed youth. Theeb relies on the care with which its sequences are composed instead of the weight of its comprehensive text. Scenes of tension are smoothly and compellingly integrated into the narrative, which earnestly follows Theeb’s struggle not only to survive but to exercise control over his own story. Nowar stands out as a unique voice with a rooted interest in offering glimpses of culture that feel unburdened by an agenda.

The first feature from director Naji Abu Nowar, Theeb is a classically-minded refresher compared to the more arty material playing at ND/NF this year. The film, which picked up an Orizzonti award for Best Director at last year’s Venice Film Festival, puts a human story within an epic, historical context. Theeb (Jacir Eid) is a young member of a Bedouin tribe in the Arabian Desert. One night, a British soldier (Jack Fox) arrives at the camp requesting help, and the tribe gives him Theeb’s brother Hussein (Hussein Salameh) as a guide to help him get where he needs to go (it’s Bedouin custom to protect any guest requesting their help). Theeb joins Hussein and the soldier on their journey, but by doing so the two brothers soon find themselves thrown headfirst into a war they never wanted to be part of.

Nowar used non-actors in most of the roles for his film, using members of one of the last Bedouin tribes to make up his cast. That choice, combined with Nowar’s refusal to provide any sense of establishment for the audience, throwing them directly into Theeb’s world, adds a feeling of authenticity to the proceedings. That helps especially when Nowar suddenly changes things up partway through, introducing a tragic set of circumstances pushing Theeb into truly unexpected areas. The sudden change of plot, done through a breathlessly intense sequence, never threatens to veer things off course due to Nowar’s patient, measured camerawork.

For the sake of spoilers, I won’t reveal much about what happens in Theeb. What I can say is that it turns into a fascinating coming-of-age tale, along with a story about two unlikely people coming together out of the need for survival. For a cast comprised of non-professionals, Nowar gets remarkable performances from the cast, with Jacir Eid easily carrying the film’s weight on his young shoulders. Theeb is a mature, well-realized effort that brings to mind some of Hollywood’s old westerns and epics (anyone watching this will inevitably think of Lawrence of Arabia at some point). And by taking the perspective of the Bedouin tribe, a voice rarely heard or listened to anywhere (and dwindling fast from existence), Nowar subtly provides a refreshing spin on a classic story.