Bernard and CJ kick off 2016 by looking back at Way Too Indie’s Best Films of 2015 list as well as looking at the big releases that are in theaters right now. From The Hateful Eight, to Joy, Anomalisa, The Revenant and more, they’ve got you covered as you brave the winter cold to see the latest movies at your local cinema. You’ve seen our Best of 2015 feature already, but do the boys agree with how things ultimately shook out on the staff-voted list? Considering CJ’s infamously dissentious nature, things could get interesting. Plus…INDIE PICKS OF THE WEEEEEEEK!!!

Topics

• Indie Picks (5:54)
• Best Films of 2015 (16:50)
• Winter Movie Guide (52:45)

Articles Referenced

The Hateful Eight Review
Joy Review
Anomalisa Review
The Revenant Review
Sisters Review
Tangerine Review

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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]

If there was one genre in particular that 2015 excelled in, it would be documentaries. Every year there seems to be a standout or two, but this year the documentary category is loaded with worthy competitors. We’ve compiled the very best documentaries from this year, spanning a wide range of topics from prolific musicians, the War on Drugs, mountain climbing, sleep paralysis, and societal pressures of marriage in traditional Indian culture. Some are told in unconventional ways while others explore unique subjects, but all of these films contain riveting storytelling. The following documentaries are all worth checking out if you haven’t done so already.

Way Too Indie’s Best Documentaries of 2015

Amy

I tend to feel a ping of skepticism whenever a biographical documentary is made about a deceased pop culture persona so soon after their death. It’s hard not to assume it may be exploitive or disingenuous. So I had my doubts going into Amy even knowing Asif Kapadia had already proven himself a worthy documentary filmmaker. What unfolds is perhaps unsurprising, Amy Winehouse’s fame and death being as public as they were, but Amy isn’t the story you think it will be. Instead of yet another tragic addiction-led death of a young and talented star, the film uses the personal footage taken by Amy and her friends to reveal a young woman affected less by fame and more by the ill-intentioned people around her. The same psychology and personal trauma that inspired Winehouse’s remarkable music and fueled her soulful performances is what ultimately broke her heart and led to her death. What makes this stand out as a spectacular documentary is how expertly Kapadia turns the mirror around to show that the public spotlight thrust on Winehouse, and the rather transparent extent of her personal troubles, implies an amount of guilt on her fans and the public. It calls into question larger thoughts on the impact of our habits as consumers on other people’s lives, the sort of existential provocation only the best documentaries can produce. [Ananda]

Bending Steel

You haven’t heard of Bending Steel, but lucky you: I’ve seen it, I loved it, and I’m here to tell you about it. This weird, dark, startlingly profound documentary follows Chris Schoek, a hermetic New Yorker whose dream is to become a Coney Island strongman, like those bald, bulky, mustachioed guys you’ve seen on vintage freakshow posters. Chris doesn’t fit the bill—he’s lean, soft-spoken and shrivels up in front of a crowd—but he can bend metal with his bare hands, which is pretty amazing. The film tracks his progress as he works on his technique and learns to be a true performer, but the truly special moments involve Chris confessing his distaste for human contact, a troubling trait that may have developed as a result of his tragic relationship with his cold, unsupportive parents. As chilling a character portrait as I’ve seen all year. [Bernard]

Cartel Land

If Denis Villeneuve’s Sicario offers a slick, thrilling look at the bleak and despairing world of the War on Drugs, then Matthew Heineman’s Cartel Land can act as the gritty, real-world side of the same coin. Cartel Land follows two fronts of the drug war, but from the perspective of frustrated citizens instead of government officials: Arizona Border Recon head Tim Foley, and Jose Mireles, the leader of a vigilante group who fight off cartel gangs from taking over villages. Heineman keeps his focus on Mireles for the large majority of Cartel Land, mainly because it’s a remarkable story. Heineman captures incredible footage on the ground, getting in the middle of firefights and showing the intense pressure of living in the cartel wars on a daily basis, and at the same time observes Mireles’ group getting poisoned by the same interests that ensure chaos reigns at the border. Cartel Land is riveting, dark stuff, and its uncompromising look at the drug war as an out of control nightmare is some of the most important filmmaking to come out of 2015. [C.J.]

In Jackson Heights

With age comes experience, understanding, and a widened scope of the world around you. For all the exceptional documentaries Frederick Wiseman has been making since the ’60s, there is a weighted atmosphere in his latest one that could easily mark it as his magnum opus, because of all those things that come with age (Wiseman is 85 years old, by the way). In Jackson Heights is classic in how quickly three hours pass by; a kaleidoscopic look at a neighborhood in Queens, New York that boasts a record of 167 spoken languages. Though most of what you hear is Spanish and English, there’s a colorful enough array of characters from all walks of life that make the cultural hodgepodge the main anchor of the story. In another great year for documentaries, plenty of exaggerated praise drowns out the more humble and less sensationalist of the bunch. From these, Frederick Wiseman’s big-picture-perspective on the contortion and distortion of core, constitutional, American values stands tall. By letting the community of Jackson Heights speak its collective mind, most of the time during revealingly intimate moments, we become immersed with life itself. [Nik]

Listen to Me Marlon

Amy is rightfully regarded as one of the best documentaries of the year, but there is another doc with a similar approach that shouldn’t be overlooked. Listen to Me Marlon takes the recently discovered audio recordings made by legendary actor Marlon Brando and edits them into a look at his wonderful career and troubled inner-life. It doesn’t have the same large media aims as Amy, but perhaps gets more out of its complicated subject. With only the audio recordings to guide the story, it is among the most intimate artist bio-docs ever made. Listen to Me Marlon touches on some of the most crucial moments of Brando’s life, including his early rise as a superstar actor, his infamous Oscar win for The Godfather, and the tragic loss of his grown son. Due to his personal struggles and the bizarre film choices he made late in his life, Brando’s legacy has become easy to jeer, but Listen to Me Marlon is a beautiful tribute to the artist and the man, allowing his own words to tell his story and regain his humanity. [Aaron]

The Look of Silence

Joshua Oppenheimer’s The Act of Killing is a more eye-catching and artistically adventurous than his follow-up, The Look of Silence, but steep yourself in the latter’s rhythm and atmosphere for its entirety and you’ll discover a movie that will haunt you, sit on your shoulders and whisper in your ear for a long, long time. Like its predecessor, the doc is filled with the stories of those affected by the Indonesian genocide of 1965-66, both perpetrators and victims. This time, we follow a man named Adi, who lost his brother to the slaughter and conducts a string of interviews with the men who were in charge of the mass killings. The stories are as shocking as they were in The Act of Killing, with Adi’s strength, forgiveness and dignity piercing the darkness like a beacon. Most affecting of all is the presence of the dead, who we feel through Oppenheimer’s evocative camerawork, which subtly suggests the deceased are watching Adi’s every move from behind the trees. [Bernard]

Meet the Patels

Easily the funniest documentary of 2015—and possibly even the most entertaining—belongs to Geeta and Ravi Patel’s Meet the Patels. The brother and sister duo document Ravi’s difficulties of getting back into the dating world after a long-term relationship fails. But this isn’t a one-note dating documentary. The situation gets complex (and more compelling) due to the clash between Ravi’s American upbringing and his family’s firm stance on traditional Indian culture, particularly the arranged marriage part. But rather than making the film on whether dating or arranged marriage is the best way to find a partner, Ravi gives both methods a fair try, and the results are hilarious. There’s humor found throughout due to Ravi’s comedic, down-to-earth personality, making Meet the Patels charming and a breeze to watch. It also benefits from remarkable editing, by cutting down a ton of home movie footage and combining it with unique animations that periodically replace talking head interviews. The documentary made a big impression on audiences and studio exeutives as well; Fox Searchlight acquired remake rights shortly after its release, and plans to turn it into a narrative feature. [Dustin]

Meru

It was a big year for the Himalayas on film. An amazing counterpart to the big budget epic Everest is the true story of a small group of adventure-seekers who looked to be the first to scale one of the massive mountain’s more difficult peaks. Stylistically, Meru doesn’t do anything we haven’t seen before in documentaries—cinematography of the Himalayas is no longer unique, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t just as breathtaking. It does, however, expertly highlight just how amazing their adventure is and, similarly, how extraordinary it is for them to capture it on film. Perhaps I was just supremely in tune with the film, but I found myself incredibly aware of the filmmaking process throughout the film. This makes the journey all the more impressive, given the limited supplies the group brings and the extreme nature of Meru’s specific ascent strategy. And then there is the story, which is properly intense and full of incredible twists and turns. Filmmakers Jimmy Chin (who is a member of the climbing trio) and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi fill in the appropriate backstories to build the climbers as actually interesting characters—this seems simple, but so many extreme climbing films struggle to do this properly. You will root for these characters, not just for the drama of their endeavor, but because the full scope of their human journeys is compelling both on and off the mountain. [Aaron]

The Nightmare

There are scenes from Rodney Ascher’s The Nightmare that I still think about even after several months since my initial viewing. I distinctly remember a chill running down my back when explaining to a friend the subject of this film: sleep paralysis. It’s a strange and terrifying phenomenon where sleepers are unable to move or speak while demonic creatures slowly approach. Ascher has the gall to interview his subjects suffering from sleep paralysis in their own bedrooms at night, which properly sets the mood and makes listening to their stories of night terrors all the more hair-raising. And while hearing people talk about their nightmares is one thing, Ascher adds a cinematic touch by showing re-enactments of these nightmares which really brings the testimonies to life. Some of these visualizations are a bit hokey (nightmares will always be scarier in our minds than on-screen), but it’s hard to shake images like the long shadowy figure with smoldering red eyes and sharp teeth. The Nightmare is the kind of film that sits with you long after the credits roll. [Dustin]

Of Men and War

Laurent Bécue-Renard’s Of Men and War stares directly into the wounded soul of a subject that’s rarely acknowledged and never explored. The Pathway Home, a therapy centre in California, helps treat soldiers with PTSD through group therapy sessions. Bécue-Renard films these sessions while also delving into some of the soldiers’ personal lives back home, shooting with a nonintrusive style that brings Frederick Wiseman (a director also appearing on this list) to mind. The therapy sessions provide a disturbing and powerful glimpse into the minds of these men, with each soldier providing a vivid account of the memories that paralyze them. Of Men and War doesn’t offer any answers, and while it ends on a hopeful note, it’s not exactly an optimistic one. Bécue-Renard recognizes the struggle these soldiers are going through is a lifelong process, and while his film doesn’t suggest therapy and emotional honesty are a cure, it does show their importance in providing the chance to deal with the psychological obstacles these men have to face every day. [C.J.]

The Royal Road

The title of Jenni Olson’s essay film refers to El Camino Real, the former 600-mile road that traveled across the Spanish missions in California. Olson uses this road to delve into topics both historical and personal: the history of California’s formation, an ill-fated trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles to meet a crush, the power of nostalgia, and Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, among other topics. Linking all of these seemingly disparate elements together is Olson’s personal experience and voice, narrating in a dry tone over grainy 16mm footage of California landscapes. Over its short runtime, Olson’s ruminations manage to cohere into a fascinating whole, one that’s impossible to not find relatable in some way. Unlike most recent documentaries, who seem intent on doing nothing more than dictating and informing, The Royal Road is an exception, a film that allows viewers the room to breathe and, more importantly, to think. [C.J.]

Seymour: An Introduction

Wisdom is acquired with age, and Seymour Bernstein, 85-year-old retired concert pianist-turned teacher and subject of Seymour: An Introduction, has plenty to go around. The documentary invites us to sit beside Seymour’s deep well of knowledge and philosophy, serenading us with elegant photography and a measured pace. Interviews with his adoring pupils are insightful and heartening, but nothing compares to the magic of Seymour recalling pivotal moments in his extraordinary life journey. There’s a musicality to the filmmaking that’s beautifully apropos and is doubly impressive considering the filmmaker, actor Ethan Hawke, is relatively young in his career behind the camera. This isn’t just a movie that makes you feel good; it makes you feel enlightened. [Bernard]

Maybe it is because I’m from Chicago, but Kartemquin Films has always been a big deal for me. The Chicago-based documentary company has churned out dozens of fantastic docs in their 50 years, most with a specific eye toward social justice. Even if you don’t recognize the name, it’s likely you’ve seen films they’ve produced—most likely their work with Steve James, including Hoop Dreams and Life Itself. You now have a great opportunity to see many of their great films with their newly announced partnership with Fandor. The streaming service will be the exclusive home for 30 films from throughout Kartemquin’s history, with the first 16 available now. Highlights of the partnership include Kartemquin’s first film, Home for Life, labor struggle film The Last Pullman Car, James’s Grassroots Chicago, and seven-hour immigrant story The New Americans. When you want to take a break from splurging on this new amazing catalog, check out other films new to streaming down below.

Netflix

Starlet [Sean Baker, 2012]

With Sean Baker’s Tangerine garnering great reviews on the indie scene, it’s a great opportunity to check out his last feature. Starlet stars Dree Hemingway and Besedka Johnson as unlikely friends with about 60 years between them. After directionless Jane finds a considerable amount of cashed stored in the thermos she just bought from Sadie’s yard sale, she gets tied up in the old woman’s life. Starlet is a unique film with just a touch of blackly comedic tones over the usually quirky May-December friendship plot. For more on Starlet and Sean Baker, check out our original review of the film and our recent interview with Baker discussing Tangerine.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
Can’t Hardly Wait [Harry Elfont & Deborah Kaplan, 1998]
Do I Sound Gay? [David Thorpe, 204]
Doomsdays [Eddie Mullins, 2013]
Harry and Tonto [Paul Mazursky, 1974]
Last Days in Vietnam [Rory Kennedy, 2014]
Master of None [Series, Season 1]
Seymour: An Introduction [Ethan Hawke, 2014]
Twinsters [Samantha Futerman & Ryan Miyamoto, 2015]

Fandor

Sembene! [Samba Gadjigo & Jason Silverman, 2015]

Our friends at Fandor have become one of the best places on the internet to check out a number of classic films, but they offer much more than their well-publicized Criterion Picks. As a prime example, now-streaming Sembene! (check out our review) hits Fandor the same week it debuts in limited release. The film is a profile doc of 84-year-old filmmaker Ousmane Sembene, the first director from Africa to find sustained international acclaim. His films Black Girl, Xala and Moolaadé are often recognized as the greatest films ever from the continent, exploring much more than the outsider view we so often see. Chronicling his incredible artistic journey, Sembene! is definitely of interest for fans of world cinema.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
The Grandmother [David Lynch, 1970]
Happy Valley [Amir Bar-Lev, 2014]
The Pearl Button [Patricio Guzmán, 2015]
Watchers of the Sky [Edet Belzberg, 2014]
Zorns Lemma [Hollis Frampton, 1970]

MUBI

If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle [Florin Serban, 2010]

An underseen release from the Romanian New Wave, If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle may have an unwieldy title, but remains a tense drama. The film involves Silviu, a teenage prisoner on the brink of being released. When he finds out that his estranged mother is leaving Romania and taking his beloved young brother, his emotional response threatens his status. This leads to the film’s major dramatic setpiece, an extended hostage situation where Silviu has taken a young social worker with who he has developed a connection. Like most recent Romanian films, If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle is intensely bleak and with high emotional stakes. Director Florin Serban’s following project, Box, sounds like an intriguing puzzle-like thriller, and will most likely come to the West next year. So, in order to catch up, you can check out If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle on MUBI until December 2.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
Aliyah [Elie Wajeman, 2012]
Free Men [Ismaël Ferroukhi, 2011]
Her Name Is Sabine [Sandrine Bonnaire, 2007]
Tu Dors Nicole [Stéphane Lafleur, 2014]
Watchtower [Pelin Esmer, 2012]

Video On-Demand

Inside Out [Pete Docter, 2015]

One of the most loved films of the year and Pixar Studio’s most successful film not named Toy Story 3, Inside Out arrives on Video On-Demand along with its DVD and Blu-ray release. Joy, Sadness, Disgust and the gang’s journey is among the most entertaining, sharp and emotional experiences in the cinema. Perhaps more importantly, after a few relatively mediocre releases, Pixar showed once again that it is the top dog in animation. I am convinced Inside Out will be on a wide variety of end-of-year lists and is an honest contender for major awards outside of animation. Check out our review for more thoughts on the latest masterpiece from the animation juggernaut.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
The Hallow [Corin Hardy, 2015]
Lost in the Sun [Trey Nelson, 2015]
Vacation [John Francis Daley & Jonathan M. Goldstein, 2015]

Well that was fast. Seems like just yesterday we were recalling our favorite movie moments from 2014. It’s hard to believe but we’re already halfway into 2015! So it’s time for us to reflect back on all the releases since January. Sure, the year has given us a fair amount of flops, like Tomorrowland, Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2, Hot Pursuit, The Cobbler, Aloha, and Entourage to name a few, but luckily in the deluge of releases we’ve come to expect these days, 2015 has delivered a few films worth flocking to theaters for.

There’s something for everyone on our list of the Best Films of 2015 So Far. Eclectic even for us, our diverse inventory includes some of last year’s Cannes Film Festival standouts, a must-see horror film, a Wes Anderson-esque western, several low-budget indies, and to round things out, a big studio action film who’s inclusion among our favorites is one of the more intriguing and pleasant surprises 2015 has thrown at us.

There’s plenty to look forward to later on in the year—we’re looking at you Knight of Cups—but in the meantime rest assured you already have some watching to keep you busy as Summer begins.

Way Too Indie’s Best Films of 2015 So Far

#20. Clouds of Sils Maria

There are few better words than “layered” to describe the labyrinth that is Oliver Assayas’ Clouds of Sils Maria, which made Kristen Stewart the first ever American to win Best Supporting Actress at France’s prestigious César awards. Normally this external detail might prove irrelevant to the work itself, but for a film that focuses so strongly on the generation gap and the notion of aging in the entertainment industry, the fact that Stewart’s subtle performance has overshadowed Juliette Binoche’s more sensational lead performance on the awards circuit is interesting in a self-referential sort of way. Indeed, the concept of parallels seems to go hand in hand with the predicament that Binoche’s character, Maria, finds herself in when she agrees to take part in a revival of the play that once upon a time sparked her career. However, issues of identity and the psychology of the performer are explored when Maria’s original role of Sigrid is given up to a young Hollywood celebrity, and she is forced to play the girl’s opposite as the older and more fragile Helena. Clouds will likely be remembered for its terrific performances, but Assayas’ writing and direction are what allow it to take some strangely enigmatic turns, especially in the second and third acts. It’s these puzzling moments that raise thought-provoking but potentially unanswerable questions in the mind of the viewer, and transform the experience, as a whole, into a difficult one to shake. [Eli]

#19. Faults

This feature debut from Riley Stearns contains just the right combination of absurdity and hilarity to make it one of the most entertaining movies of the year. Much of the success of Faults comes from the brilliant lead performance of Leland Orser, who plays an eccentric cult deprogrammer on the decline of his career. In order to pay back his agent from his recent book tour failure, he takes on a job to deprogram a woman (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) currently under a cult spell. From there, the film evolves into a thrilling chamber piece with unpredictable outcomes. Stearns crafts a wildly hypnotic film from a bare bones setup, establishing himself as an upcoming director worth keeping an eye on. With Orser and Winstead at the top of their game, Faults stands out as one of the best indie debuts of the year. [Dustin]

#18. Seymour: An Introduction

The old saying “those who can’t do teach” doesn’t apply to Seymour Bernstien, a legendary concert pianist who, at the peak of his career, gave it all up to become a music instructor and composer. Ethan Hawke, one of Seymour’s most famous pupils, made Seymour: An Introduction as both a documentary tribute to his mentor and a megaphone through which the 85-year-old’s wisdom and philosophies can touch those around the world, beyond his cozy NYC apartment. It’s a strikingly cinematic documentary about a man who’s developed an ultimate understanding of the link between music and life itself. A sampling: “You can establish so deep an accord between your musical self and your personal self that eventually music and life will interact in a never-ending cycle of fulfillment,” Seymour says on-camera. The man’s a master on the keys, but has a way of making words sing, too. [Bernard]

#17. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Me & Earl & the Dying Girl, the arthouse response to The Fault in Our Stars, isn’t quite the genre-redefining coming-of-age film some made it out to be when it premiered and won at Sundance last January. But it’s still a charming and likable enough film that supplies a nice alternative to the constant assault of summer blockbusters like Jurassic World and Terminator Genisys. Thomas Mann, in the lead role of Greg (the ‘Me’ of the film’s title), turns in a good performance that shows some promise for a career that initially started with duds like Project X, but it’s Olivia Cooke who really shines as his classmate who has recently been diagnosed with cancer. And Jon Bernthal continues his streak of great supporting turns; someone give this guy a much deserved leading role already! [Ryan]

#16. Jauja

Transfixing. That’s the first word that comes to my mind when I think about Lisandro Alonso’s fiercely strange Jauja. Filmed in a vintage 1.33:1 Aspect Ratio, the film boxes in its characters in a squircle with seemingly magical capabilities and, by way of a cinematography that’s got a wondrous use for depth-of-field and a mise-en-scene that engages empty spaces like no other film this decade, it creates a magnetic bridge between audience and screen. To put it another way, watching Jauja is to cinephiles what going to church on Sundays is to devout theists; an altogether spiritual experience. It’s set during the time of conquistadors, and first half is easy enough to follow; Danish Captain Gunnar Dinesen (Viggo Mortensen) brings along his daughter Ingeborg (Viilbjørk Malling Agger) on a joint expedition with an allied Spanish infantry. There’s tell of a mysterious army general who has vanished into the desert, never to be seen again, and when Inge disappears one night, Dinesen must gaze into the abyss of this desert in order to find her. That’s when the second half of the film takes over; surreal, compelling, and intimate, the film takes on transportational qualities as we follow the more and more perplexed Denisen. The allure of Jauja is almost as hard to explain as Dinesen’s conversation with the woman in the cave, and it’s got “acquired taste” written all over it, but for fans of meticulous shot composition, and a vibe that’s neither wholly David Lynch or wholly Andrei Tarkovsky, but some transmutated hybrid of the two, it’s a film that dives into the beyond and comes up for air with a plethora of treasures. Alonso is an arthouse storyteller known for stretching out thin plots and narratives in lieu of a viscerally visual journey, and Jauja is his most unforgettable one yet. [Nik]

#15. Heaven Knows What

Based on lead actress Arielle Holmes’ unpublished autobiographical novel, “Mad Love in New York City,” the Safdie Brothers’ newest output reaches uniquely authentic heights, primarily through Holmes’ distinct performance as Harley: a fictionalized depiction of her homeless and heroin-addicted former self. This imitation of life may be the closest to pure documentary that the world of fiction filmmaking has been in some time. To see Holmes maneuver her way through a simulated version of her troubled past is already haunting, but juxtaposed with Sean Price Williams’ floating camera and Isao Tomita’s heavy electronic synthesizer score, the film’s hyper-realism frequently borders on dreamlike surrealism and hits some unforgettable notes. Much of the film consists of Harley’s endless attempts to satisfy her insatiable appetite for a fix, as well as her interactions with other drug addicted and alcoholic members of the New York City homeless population. The repetitive and consistently uncomfortable nature of the film may repel some viewers, but for those fascinated by cinema that replicates reality on a deeper level than the norm, Heaven Knows What may end up being one of the year’s biggest surprises. [Eli]

#14. Appropriate Behavior

I find it quite fitting that Desiree Akhavan’s film début (writing, directing and starring) was the first that I watched and reviewed in 2015, and here it now finds its place among the best we’ve seen so far. Not a bad way to start the year, I’d say. This hipster Iranian-American bisexual rom-com feels as fresh as HBO’s Girls did back in 2012, but with an added diversity that show has always been sorely lacking in. Her jokes have the audacity of Broad City but with the wit of Woody Allen. As the film’s star, Akhavan portrays Shirin, a woman dealing with a break-up from the woman she sincerely loved while hashing through her naïve cultural confusion and general millennial narcissism. The film is at its most hilarious when exposing the ridiculousness of the young urban elite and their kombucha drinking, co-op volunteering, entirely self-conscious faux heroism. But while poking fun at her own generation, Akhavan adds a sense of romanticism even while being a woman behaving badly. On a list sorely lacking in comedy, you can be sure Appropriate Behavior has earned its spot here by being tear-inducingly funny and unapologetically sincere. [Ananda]

#13. Li’l Quinquin

Bruno Dumont’s Li’l Quinquin is, by a wide margin, the funniest film of 2015 so far, and that’s saying something considering how downright grisly it can be. Starting off as a sort of French rural riff on the recent surge of murder mystery miniseries, Quinquin follows the residents of a small countryside village when someone starts chopping up townspeople and stuffing their body parts into cows. As the 200 minute film—originally a 4-part miniseries in France—gets closer to finding a possible suspect, it becomes apparent that Dumont has little interest in solving the case. What begins as a quirky whodunit gradually transforms itself into an exploration of humanity, mainly our capacity to do good and/or evil. But even that reading is a bit of a reductive take on Dumont’s complex, philosophical and frequently uproarious work. People unaware of Dumont’s films will find Li’l Quinquin to be a great starting point, and those already familiar with his output should be shocked to find that he’s been hiding such an incredible sense of humor for this long. [C.J.]

#12. Girlhood

Every 16-year-old girl ought to have the world at her feet. Not all do. Marieme (Karidja Touré), the central character in Girlhood (Bande de Filles), does not. When she realizes she must do something to untether herself from a dead-end home life that includes a disinterested mother and an abusive older brother, her hopes of a higher education as a means of escape are dashed. It’s the film’s most devastating scene. When she says to her offscreen guidance counselor, “I want to be like others. Normal,” she is met with, “It’s a bit too late for that.” At 16 years old, she’s told it’s too late to make a positive change in her life. She remains undaunted, and instead looks for something else. This sets in motion a series of decisions and events that, in the hands of writer/director Céline Sciamma, resonate like those in other great coming-of-age films, yet remain completely devoid of the melodrama so prevalent in those films. It’s a remarkably genuine approach that not only grounds the film in terrific realism, it keeps the viewer highly engaged because all expectations of cliché are shattered. This refreshing take on the struggles of a lower-class teen is enhanced greatly by the talent and beauty of first-timer Touré. She is undaunted by the hopelessness of her situation, yet she never comes across as the type who dots her eyes with hearts, instead conveying sweet innocence in a hardscrabble shell that is simultaneously sympathetic and inspirational. It’s a performance worthy of praise in a film worthy of this list. [Michael]

#11. Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem

In Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem, Ronit Elkabetz stars as Viviane Amsalem, a woman seeking a divorce from her husband, Elisha (Simon Abkarian). This is the basic concept, but nothing else about the film is basic. It’s set in Israel, where there is no such thing as a civil marriage; each marriage is performed as part of a religious ceremony, and must be dissolved that way, too. Based on religious tenets, a husband must give his full consent for a marriage to be dissolved, and if he doesn’t want the divorce, the divorce doesn’t happen. Suddenly, this woman who has been trapped in an unhappy marriage finds herself trapped again—a prisoner of a system that stacks the deck against the same women it all but ignores in the first place. This makes the rules as much the antagonist of the film as the husband, if not more so, and it’s the film’s stroke of genius. Co-written/co-directed by star Elkabetz and her brother Shlomi, the film is a courtroom drama like I’ve never seen before, morphing from a tale of a wife trapped in a bad marriage to a commentary on a culture that treats women as afterthoughts. Not only is Elkabetz’s co-direction sensational, her performance is unforgettable as well. As the woman who will not be denied no matter how many men get in her way (husband, judges, witnesses), Elkabetz shows the weariness and frustration borne of years of roadblocks (the film spans five years!), with a steely layer of resolve beneath. With terrific storytelling fundamentals, compelling emotional depth, and crackling dialogue, the Elkabetz siblings could be Israeli filmmaking’s answer to the Coen Brothers. [Michael]

#10. White God

White God, which premiered and emerged victorious in the Un Certain Regard section of last year’s Cannes Film Festival, is a harrowing, brutal melodrama about animal cruelty that equally serves as a metaphorical story of class/race issues that have always troubled society. While the film sometimes falls short of fully realizing its potential due to shifting tones and a couple other missteps, it’s original and far too interesting to pass over. The film also features some of the most wonderfully cinematic images and some of the best editing of any film to be released so far this year. So if you missed White God during its limited theatrical run in the U.S. this past March then keep your eye out for it when it’s released on blu-ray and DVD July 28th. [Ryan]

#9. 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 like entering a time machine into the past; a recently discovered planet that’s just like Earth, except the planet’s civilization is currently living out its pre-Renaissance phase. 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.]

#8. Slow West

Before a frame was even shot, Slow West was flooded with promise. The feature-length directorial debut of John Maclean (DJ of the disbanded The Beta Band) stars Michael Fassbender and Ben Mendelsohn in two of the central roles. Surely the film would be interesting, but what resulted was something more. Following Jay (Kodi Smit-McPhee) across the American West as he searches for the love of his young life, Slow West could have simply been a solid western. Instead, Maclean and company aimed higher: an absurdist send up of the genre, a coming of age cautionary tale, and a moralist adventure all in a simmering 83 minutes. Slow West is a rollickingly fun western, in equal measures tense and hilarious, absurd and painful. But what’s more is the astounding promise it shows of first-timer Maclean. Whatever he’s got cooking up next (hopefully another vehicle for his buddy Fassy) we’ll be there. [Gary]

#7. The Duke of Burgundy

Peter Strickland’s sumptuous tale of a rocky lesbian relationship inside a surreal BDSM bubble came out at the very beginning of the year, and still beats the competition in terms of pure cinematic sensuality. The narrative follows butterfly expert Cynthia (Danish vet Sidse Babett Knudsen) and her younger lover, Evelyn (Italian debutante Chiara D’Anna), as they cope with ebbs and flows of a deep relationship that’s starting to lose steam, noticed mostly through the oft-hilarious cracks in their masochistic role-playing scenarios. The Duke of Burgundy has a perfect balance of fearless indulgence, and is incredible on multiple levels thanks to Strickland’s methods of cinematic persuasion; his use of a hauntingly romantic score by Cat’s Eye, visually stunning montages that are edited in staccato-like fashion and pledge allegiance to Stan Brakhage’s chaos of celluloid, and setting his story in what looks like an enchanted château from Renaissance Era folklore. The Duke of Burgundy is above all else a tight embrace of everything that sets cinema apart from all other arts. Add to that the re-definition of “toilet humor,” the evocative lead performances that beautifully compliment each other in the way they contrast, and the unadulterated imagination at work—from the costumes to the butterflies, and the all-female world with no sense of time or place,—and you have a film that breaks conventional cinematic barriers in order to express something infinitely universal; love. In all its kinky, silky, paranoid, powerful, glory. [Nik]

#6. Buzzard

Buzzard isn’t a complicated film, but I find it difficult to describe in any intelligent way. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be completely confounded and charmed by its off-kilter sensibilities. As you are more than likely to not have seen Buzzard, here’s a little on the plot: Marty is a temp office worker, video game and horror film aficionado, overall slacker in the suburbs of Detroit. As he makes increasingly outrageously dumb decisions, he becomes more and more paranoid that the authorities (or something even more sinister) are out to get him. The film is a punk splashed throwback with its roots calling back to Alex Cox. Buzzard recent ties are to the comedy of Quentin Dupieux and Tim & Eric, and it more than holds its own against these more established and polished figures. There really isn’t much more I can say about the film than it is delightfully weird, awkward, and very, very cool. Joel Potrykus’s sophomore feature will hopefully be his indie breakout, though I surely hope he never loses his edge. [Aaron]

#5. It Follows

It Follows carves fresh terrain for horror movies, turning the sound of approaching footsteps into a signal of terror. David Robert Mitchell’s stylistic second feature film is a creepy, fun experience wholly unique in its approach. When a new boyfriend passes a sexually transmitted demon onto Jay (Maika Monroe), she and her friends work together to dispose of the monster and rid Jay of her curse. With striking cinematography and nods to John Carpenter classics (notably its ominous, synth-heavy score), the unsettlingly tense terror created in this film is surely among the greatest scary movies in recent memory.

Rather than make the true source of his scares the It Follows monster itself, the director Mitchell utilizes long takes that often place the demon off in the background slowly encroaching on Jay and her friends. The longer that a shot lingers, the more your dread will build. It Follows is a masterwork in the manipulation of anxieties. Its terrifying encounters with an unforgettable villain and the haunting imagery in It Follows leaves a chilling impact that will make you wonder what’s behind you. [Zachary]

#4. Wild Tales

With Wild Tales, Damian Szifron reminds us that, deep down, we’re all a bunch of filthy animals. The characters in this blissfully chaotic anthology movie do things we wish we had the balls to do, breaking free of their societal restraints to indulge in the sweet nectar of violence, revenge, greed and infidelity. Each of the film’s six short stories are insanely entertaining in their own way, and though terrible, terrible things happen across the board, the biggest surprise is how much fun it is to watch these people’s lives fall apart. Maybe it’s cathartic, maybe there’s a bit of wish-fulfillment going on, or maybe it’s just good, old-fashioned, pulpy entertainment. Wherever the film’s true appeal lies, what’s abundantly clear is that Szifron is a badass storyteller with a unique vision. In the film’s final story, a man stands over his lover. He hurt her badly, and she’s hurt him right back. They’ve raged and cried and thrashed at each other, and now they’re drained, stripped of everything. He opens his arms and doesn’t say a word, but she hears him loud and clear. “This is us, baby. We’re filthy animals, but at least we’ve got each other.” We’ve all got a wild side, and Wild Tales reminds us to embrace it because it’s what makes us human. [Bernard]

#3. Mommy

Love as the bond between mother and son is the subject for Xavier Dolan’s latest and perhaps best release so far Mommy. Following a widowed single mother struggling to make ends meet, Diane (Anne Dorval) raises her violent, ADHD son Steve (Antoine-Olivier Pilon), with the help of Kyla (Suzanne Clement), a mysterious neighbor who has a curious verbal tick. Together, the three lost souls function as a patchwork family unit, accomplishing more together than they would be capable of apart. Although the movie concerns itself with characters managing in difficult circumstances, the energy with which Dolan allows the story to unfold gives the film surges of stylistic adrenaline.

Shot in a 1:1 frame with warm, yellow hues that somewhat resemble an Instagram video, Dolan’s camera moves frenetically, whipping from one side of a conversation to the other in order to accommodate Mommy’s tight aspect ratio. The square frame helps draw the viewer’s eye inward toward the middle of the picture, providing an intimate view of these characters as they have deeply personal experiences. Through adversity Mommy remains an exuberant celebration of minor daily achievements, emphasizing that attitude often dictates outcomes. This is a deeply empathetic movie with several heart-wrenching sequences. All of this comes accompanied by an assortment of iconic late ’90s needle drops (“Colorblind” by Counting Crows, “Blue (Da Ba Dee)” by Eiffel 65, “Wonderwall” by Oasis) and the best use of a Lana Del Ray song in cinema yet. [Zachary]

#2. Ex Machina

It’s no surprise that début film director Alex Garland made his chops for years as a screenwriter—his script for Ex Machina is one of the best sci-fi scripts in years. There is always a particular balance that has to be struck with good, smart science fiction, wherein the intellectual scientific and philosophical concepts need to be accessible while not watered down for mass consumption. The film is primarily a film made up of conversations between two people at a time (either programmer whiz Caleb and towering genius Nathan, or Caleb and femmebot Ava), and the dialogue is sparkling, full of lofty ideas and technical jargon without much of a reference key. I’ll admit there were times that I felt a little left behind in the conversation, and I frankly should be when two very smart people are talking about very smart ideas. That doesn’t mean that I couldn’t follow what was going on or felt the film was intellectually impenetrable, because its simplified location and high-concept premise, along with its eventual genre trappings, kept it all accessible. This all helps Ex Machina to be a unique science fiction film while tackling familiar science fiction themes. The three primary leads all give very different but equally brilliant performances, but Alicia Vikander rightly has gotten the most attention for her breakout role as A.I. seductress Ava. Simply put, if the actress in the Ava role doesn’t deliver, the film doesn’t work. Because a majority of the film’s premise has Caleb literally testing Ava to see if she has the capacity to be human, the audience is focused in on every word she says and motion she makes. It’s not really a spoiler to say that Caleb is fooled in ways, and so was I. [Aaron]

#1. Mad Max: Fury Road

His name is Max. His world is fire and blood. And this movie is barely even about him. How did a not-so-indie summer blockbuster action flick make it to the coveted #1 spot on this list? By doing what indie films do best—bring innovation to the big screen. In this way Mad Max: Fury Road is the most indie-spirited film out this year. Director George Miller, who made the original Mad Max for less than half a million dollars, and who has maintained that indie spark, is a patient man, who waited until the time was ripe and technology could accommodate his vision. Never has such patience paid off quite so well. Literally—as this film is doing nicely at the box office—but also in providing one of the most provocative action films to come out of the genre. Forget that its visuals are beyond stunning and its pace remains breakneck with hardly a second to catch one’s breath, it has sparked some of the most lively conversation of the year around feminism, female film leads (like I said, this film isn’t really all that focused on Max, it’s Charlize Theron’s Furiosa who should have top billing), and the surprising social commentary a post-apocalyptic action film can stir up on such lofty subjects as injustice, slavery, objectification, and male-dominance. Those who don’t want to think can enjoy the visuals, fast cars, and flame-throwing, but those who find an added pensiveness to their action film to be an invigorating bonus, will find Fury Road to be a whole new kind of avant-garde. [Ananda]

The Indiecast is back, and this time Bernard, CJ, and newcomer Susan (we’ve got a squeaker!) are talking what they’ve been watching on TV, the new, spine-chilling indie horror release It Follows, and the state of VOD. Plus, we’re kicking off a new weekly segment in which we recommend some tasty new indies for you hungry film geeks to chomp on, and we choose CJ’s new nickname. All this and more on the Way Too Indiecast!

Topics

• Indie Picks of the Week (4:07)
• Television We’re Watching (9:32)
• Black Mirror (25:15)
• Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (30:00)
• It Follows (37:42)

WTI Articles Referenced in the Podcast

The Wrecking Crew review

Jauja review

Seymour: An Introduction review

Best 50 TV Shows of the Decade feature

It Follows review

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“I go to war for my art form.” That piercing statement comes from legendary, retired concert pianist and active music instructor Seymour Bernstein, a man who, with 85 years under his belt, is a fountain of musical knowledge and refined philosophy. He’s a picture of tranquility, a perpetually calm and contented soul casually scattering nuggets of life-altering wisdom on the ground with a smile, we the hungry pigeons huddling at his feet. At the age of 50, Bernstein played what he thought would be his final performance, a small, impromptu show in New York City. Since then, he’s dedicated his life to transmitting his talent and life lessons to his students, a gift extended to us via Seymour: An Introduction, a rich, serene documentary directed by one of Bernstein’s most high-profile pupils, Ethan Hawke.

The Before Midnight actor appears only briefly in the film, explaining to a small, swanky NYC crowd how Bernstein helped him deal with stage fright over the years. Fear, the retired pianist posits, is inextricably linked with art; he quit performing because the terror involved was too much to handle. Struggling with actor’s anxiety, Hawke sought advice from Bernstein, who passed on the knowledge he’d concluded over years of hard reflection: “The struggle is what makes the art form.” In other words, nerves are good: if you have nerves, that’s a sure sign you care about your work. Inspired by the close friendship that developed between them, Hawke convinced Bernstein to perform once again, on film (hence the small, swanky NYC crowd).

The film does end, unsurprisingly, with that momentous performance, but the music is only half the story. Bernstein’s greatest accomplishment is developing an ultimate understanding of the connection between music and life itself. “You can establish so deep an accord between your musical self and your personal self that eventually music and life will interact in a never-ending cycle of fulfillment,” he says in one of the film’s enlightening interviews. And yes, he talks just like that. Because he’s spent his whole life pondering the nature of the art form that so thoroughly molded him, his carefully composed words resonate just as beautifully as his piano playing.

Bernstein found music at a young age, begging his mother to buy him a piano at six years old. By the time he was 15 he was giving other kids lessons, and some years later his concert debut earned him the headline “Seymour Bernstein Triumphs at the Piano” on the New York Times. Fame and success in the public eye was never of interest to him, though. In fact, he considers acclaim and celebrity to have a decidedly damaging effect on all artists. In a dialogue with his mentor, Hawke supports the argument by suggesting Marlon Brando and Jackson Pollock were “notoriously horrible people.” As further substantiation, Bernstein holds up the late Glen Gould, calling him a “neurotic mess” and a “monster” who was so wrapped up in himself that when he played Bach he infused the music with so much of his own style that it became unrecognizable as a work of the iconic German composer.

Eschewing fame and fortune led to Bernstein finding true peace, composing his own music and teaching private piano lessons in his cozy Upper West Side apartment. The film’s most heartening moments see Bernstein carefully honing his students’ skills, being honest and patient with them as he addresses their technical flaws. He’s the polar opposite of J.K. Simmons’ Terrance Fletcher from Whiplash: When a female apprentice repeats a musical phrase, correcting her flaws per Bernstein’s instruction, he’s overjoyed. “A dream,” he gushes, adding jokingly, “you’re not allowed to play better than me.” His students universally attest to Bernstein having changed the way they view not only music, but the world. This is by design: Bernstien insists that the most important thing about being a teacher “is to inspire an emotional response for all aspects of life.”

Fascinating as Bernstein is on his own, Hawke’s presentation is what really makes the film click. Everything looks elegant, from the lighting, to the editing, to the framing, and the sound design is equally immaculate. Though it’s his first time directing a documentary, Hawke seems to have a firm grasp on how to make a movie flow, almost like, well, music. Editor Anna Gustavi handles the climactic scene brilliantly, in which Bernstein performs Schumann’s “Fantasia”. We slip gracefully between seeing him perform the piece, to practicing it days before, to hearing him explain the history of the piece and why he loves it so much, all while the music hovering over the cuts uninterrupted. He narrates as he plays: “Here it comes, one of the biggest climaxes in all of music!” The awe and rapture in his eyes is reflected in ours. This is classy, dynamic filmmaking that reduced me to tears.

What exhibits Hawke’s maturity more than anything is his decision to not make a soup to nuts biography, opting rather to reveal his mentor’s character via small, candid moments of natural behavior. The film opens with Bernstein trying to work out how to get his pinky finger up to a particularly high piano key in time so as not to disrupt the momentum of a particular musical phrase. In maybe a couple of minutes, we understand his love and dedication to music, and the inner peace he’s discovered as a result of his passion. Aside from a recollection involving Bernstein’s harrowing experiences during the Korean War (“I saw body bags,” he tearfully recalls), the film is pretty low-key, its most poignant moments unfolding organically. Through music “we become one with the stars” Bernstein suggests. It’s a beautiful thought that, like Hawke’s film, is as truthful as it is poetic.