A few weeks back, the next big plan for day-and-date home streaming was announced: a service called The Screening Room, which would work with exhibitors and distributors to offer new theatrical releases in the comfort of your own home for a premium price of $50. There have been similar ideas and experiments in the past that ultimately fizzled out, but this one seems to have some steam—big figures in the film industry, such as Peter Jackson, Martin Scorsese, J.J. Abrams and Steven Spielberg, have gotten behind it. According to Deadline Hollywood, The Screening Room will have its first big moment at the upcoming CinemaCon, where it will present to exhibitors. One of the stranger aspects of The Screening Room is the presence of Sean Parker, the man behind Napster and an early investor in Facebook—he isn’t exactly a well-liked figure for many in the entertainment industries, so it might be extra difficult for him to convince the powers-that-be of mutual benefits. Certainly, a $50-per-movie streaming service isn’t ideal for everyone, but it seems to have the best chance of breaking a new aspect for streaming cinema at home.

Netflix

Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950)

Recently, film critic Matt Singer wrote a piece for ScreenCrush looking at the strange ways Netflix recommends movies and television when filling their streaming gaps. An interesting realization in his research was how few of the best films of all time are currently available—at the time, only 33 of the top 250 films on IMDb. Classic films are certainly in low supply at Netflix, which makes the release of fantastic film noir Sunset Boulevard quite notable. The film won three Oscars (nominated for 11 in total—it was a big year for All About Eve) and has lived on in the cinematic consciousness as one of the best films about Hollywood. Currently #52 on IMDb’s list, the inclusion of Sunset Boulevard to Netflix alone doesn’t solve the streaming services classic film problem, but it definitely adds a must-watch film for all film lovers. On this note, Netflix has also added Stanley Kubrick double-feature A Clockwork Orange and 2001: A Space Odyssey, two other top-250 films, so maybe the message was heard.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown (Series, Season 6)
Archer (Series, Season 6)
The Assassin (Hou Hsiao-Hsien, 2015)
Best in Show (Christopher Guest, 2000)
Bob’s Burgers (Series, Season 5)
Breathe (Mélanie Laurent, 2014)
Hard Labor (Marco Dutra & Juliana Rojas, 2011)
Mediterranea (Jonas Carpignano, 2015)
Mountain Men (Cameron Labine, 2014)
The Princess Bride (Rob Reiner, 1987)

Fandor

No Home Movie (Chantal Akerman, 2015)

The same week Chantal Akerman’s final film has its limited theatrical release you are able to stream it on Fandor. No Home Movie is a documentary involving conversations Akerman had with her mother just before the mother’s death. This is a big week to explore the under-appreciated filmmaker with I Don’t Belong Anywhere, a profile of her work, also being released. After Akerman’s own death in October 2015, many film fans discovered or revisited her best work, and now that circle can be closed with her final film. Given her active presence in No Home Movie and the themes of mortality it explores, the film is a particularly resonant one.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
The Eternal Return of Antonis Paraskevas (Elina Psikou, 2014)
Lady Snowblood (Toshiya Fujita, 1973)
Pandora’s Box (G.W. Pabst, 1929)
Sex and Broadcasting (Tim K. Smith, 2016)
We Go Way Back (Lynn Shelton, 2006)

MUBI

The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears (Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani, 2013)

Filmmaking duo Cattet and Forzani’s follow up to the amazingly bizarre Italian Giallo throwback Amer shows that they are clearly all-in on their stylish influences. Though it is a bit more narratively focused, the plot of The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears is not the drawing point—the film is a kaleidoscope of insert shorts, close-ups and double images, cut to harsh music and sound effects. It is certainly not for everyone (check out our full review, for instance), but the insane nature of the film showcases auteurs who are making films like no one else today. Anyone with an interest Italian horror flicks should check out The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears on MUBI until April 28.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
GasLand (Josh Fox, 2010)
My Best Fiend (Werner Herzog, 1999)
The Perfume of the Lady in Black (Francesco Barilli, 1974)
Petropolis: Aerial Perspectives on the Alberta Tar Sands (Peter Mettler, 2009)
Prospero’s Books (Peter Greenaway, 1991)

iTunes & Video On-Demand

Bicycle Thieves (Vittorio Da Sica, 1948)

One of the most interesting aspects of iTunes Movies is their partnership with the Criterion Collection. Sure, you have plenty of opportunity to stream their selections on a number of services (like Hulu and Fandor), but the more the merrier—iTunes also allows you to buy the films, so that’s an added benefit. This week, Criterion is releasing Bicycle Thieves, one of the all-time great films. A staple of the Italian Neorealism movement, it’s stark black-and-white cinematography, complicated moral themes, use of non-professional actors, and overall documentary style will keep it in the cinematic conversation as long as we’re seriously studying the art form. Finally released by the Criterion Collection on Blu-ray, you can also rent or buy Bicycle Thieves on-demand through iTunes.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
Exposed (Declan Dale, 2016)
Justice League vs. Teen Titans (Sam Liu, 2016)
The Messenger (Su Rynard, 2015)
Of Mind and Music (Richie Adams, 2016)
Star Wars: The Force Awakens (J.J. Abrams, 2015)

As another Sundance Film Festival comes to a close (be sure to check out our coverage here), it’s now time to assess which films will be seen and loved by the masses throughout the year. Though it is still intended as a showcase for independently made films, its position as a marketplace has become increasingly important as more boutique and indie studios shell out millions for these films. This year it became apparent that streaming services are major players, with million dollar VOD deals becoming just as noteworthy as theatrical acquisitions. Specifically, Netflix walked away with exclusive streaming and VOD rights for The Fundamentals of Caring, a comedy starring Paul Rudd and Craig Roberts, nanny drama Tallulah with Ellen Page, and Iranian horror film Under the Shadow. Amazon struck deals for Michael Shannon/Rachel Weisz thriller Complete Unknown, Whit Stillman’s Love and Friendship, and a $10 million deal for the highly praised Manchester by the Sea, the newest film from indie auteur Kenneth Lonergan. For more info on all the Sundance purchases, check out the full list at The Wrap.

If all of that isn’t proof enough that streaming is where it’s at, check out the best films and television to hit streaming this week:

Netflix

Frozen Planet (Series, 2011)

From the creator of the renowned Planet Earth series comes a nine-part documentary series focusing on the environment and life of the Arctic and Antarctic poles. If you are totally into penguins, polar bears or the albatross, Frozen Planet gives a well-researched and beautifully shot exploration—all with David Attenborough’s dulcet tones. And if you love the series, Netflix also has two special extra companion features, On Thin Ice and An Epic Journey, to stream, along with the six-part Making of Frozen Planet behind-the-scenes series.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
From Dusk to Dawn (Series, Season 2)
Ripper Street (Series, Season 3)
Turbo Kid (François Simard, Anouk Whissell & Yoann-Karl Whissell, 2015)

Fandor

Red Desert (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1964)

In this week’s “Criterion Picks” Fandor takes a look at the color film debuts of some of the world’s great filmmakers. By 1964, Italian auteur Antonioni had built a career on stylized dramas in striking black-and-white cinematography—his first colorized film, Red Desert, is strangely set in an industrial wasteland but is no less beautiful. You can also check out color firsts from Kurosawa, Renoir, Ophuls, and more until February 7. Fandor is also in the Sundance spirit this week with their Spotlight on some of their favorite films that played Park City. Their far-ranging selections include Hoop Dreams, Slacker, The Forbidden Room, Meek’s Cutoff, and Computer Chess.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
Archangel (Guy Maddin, 1990)
Equinox Flower (Yasujiro Ozu, 1958)
Mon oncle (Jacques Tati, 1958)
Our Nixon (Penny Lane, 2013)
What Remains (Steven Cantor, 2006)

MUBI

The Square (Jehane Noujaim, 2013)

MUBI is also into the Sundance Film Festival this week, as their curated selections all highlight films that debuted at the fest. Among them is the stunning look at the recent Egyptian revolution, The Square. The winner of the 2013 Sundance Audience Award for World Cinema in the documentary category and Oscar nominee, the film covers the protests against former president Mubarak through the eyes of the people in the title square. It is a beautiful example of the power of people and really puts the viewer into the experience, living through the political angst, terror, and ultimate victory. MUBI is offering the complete version of the film with an updated ending covering the events that followed the film’s release.

Other titles new to MUBI this week:
Detropia (Heidi Ewing & Rachel Grady, 2012)
Durakovo: Village of Fools (Nino Kirtadze, 2008)
The Unbelievable Truth (Hal Hartley, 1989)
Vulgar Fractions (Peter Bo Rappmund, 2011)
Wrong (Quentin Dupieux, 2012)

Video On-Demand

The Assassin (Hou Hsiao-Hsien, 2015)

Among the most beautifully shot films of 2015, Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s The Assassin was included by many as one of the best films of the year (including us). Though it has been marketed heavily as a martial arts action film, The Assassin is a more slowly-paced, contemplative film than that, much more concerned with character, tone, and style than narrative or action. This may turn off some viewers, but the lush visual pleasures of the film cannot be denied. Though seeing the film at home may not be in its best possible presentation, for those who missed it in its limited theatrical run, The Assassin can not be rented or purchased through iTunes and other VOD platforms.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
Burnt (John Wells, 2015)
Crimson Peak (Guillermo del Toro, 2015)
Truth (James Vanderbilt, 2015)

It’s easy to look back over the past 12 months and try to find a common thread, a trend or recurring idea that can make sense of the mass of films unloaded for public viewing. Everyone loves a good narrative, and in a world where chaos reigns, it’s nice to see some order. Indeed, look at the list of our 20 films below and you can see similarities pop up all over: stories of struggles both internal and external, whether it’s fighting the patriarchy of the past, present and postapocalyptic future, facing down the most powerful institutions in the world or the narrative of history itself, escaping captors, making it through wars both sensical and nonsensical, trying to just pay the bills or unshackling oneself from the past. They all share a common bond of people trying their damnedest to succeed, overcome and survive.

But this theme doesn’t apply to every film here, nor does it apply to everything that came out in 2015. Our list also has films that melted our minds, dragged us through the mud, awed us with their grace, and entertained us with their pure, visceral delights. Summing up the year through a neatly packaged narrative is nice, but it’s also far from a true representation of what cinema brings. It’s a messy, chaotic world of movies, and when we put together a list like this the real unifying aspect is their high quality.

From the big, daunting universe of cinema in 2015, Way Too Indie is proud to present what we think are the 20 best films of the year.

Way Too Indie’s 20 Best Films of 2015

#20. Room

In Lenny Abrahamson’s Room, there are no limits to love. A film as simple as it is emotionally sweeping, there are few films released this year that evoked such a visceral emotional response from its audience. The film is an exhilarating thriller portraying a modern nightmare of captivity—a scenario that never ceases to grip the public’s attention when it pops up in the news—but is entirely focused on the will of the human spirit, and the ways we not only survive in such heinous situations but thrive. In the story of Ma (Brie Larson, a career-best performance), and the world she builds for her five-year-old son Jack (Jacob Tremblay, also mesmerizing) within the walls of a tiny room, we are given an example of the purest sort of love. One of sacrifice, fierceness, and audacity. By seeing the universe through the eyes of a small child—a universe at first only four walls wide and then suddenly much, much larger—it’s impossible not to form a renewed appreciation for the simple things in life. But more than that, it’s impossible to walk away from Room and not find oneself profoundly introspective about what it means to actively live and actively love. [Ananda]

#19. Steve Jobs

Somehow, Steve Jobs became persona non grata this fall. Between the box office performance, the fatigue surrounding the subject matter and the behind the scenes issues exposed by the Sony leak, nothing seemed to go quite right for the film. Do not be mistaken, though: Steve Jobs should not be missed. It’s a biopic with an utterly unique structure and breakneck pace. Aaron Sorkin’s script commands the spotlight even more than Michael Fassbender’s stirring performance. The three-day approach proves effective as Sorkin intelligently navigates the inherent limitations, managing to capture the essence and scope of one highly influential man’s life. His conversations are verbally balletic, never ceasing to surprise in their wit, but never stooping to overly showy, self-serving writerly panache. Steve Jobs is a whirlwind of a film, exploding with thunderous brio and making its piercing impact with the ink-dipped arrowhead of a skilled writer’s pen. Its imperfections don’t change the fact that it’s a landmark in biographical filmmaking. [Byron]

#18. Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem

In Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem, Ronit Elkabetz stars as the title character, a woman seeking a divorce from her husband. It sounds simple enough, but the Amsalems are Israeli, and in Israel there is no such thing as a civil marriage; all marriages are granted by Orthodox rabbis in a religious ceremony. Ergo, all marriages must be dissolved the same way. That means the husband give his full consent for a marriage to be dissolved. If he doesn’t want it, she doesn’t get it, and Viviane’s husband doesn’t want a divorce. This turns the film into a fascinating courtroom drama, but not in the traditional sense; rather, it becomes a drama that takes place almost entirely in a courtroom, with the occasional scene occurring in an adjacent waiting room. This gives the film contrasting feelings of intimacy and claustrophobia. Elkabetz is superb as Amsalem, conveying the frustration of a woman trapped in an unhappy marriage and finds herself trapped again, this time in a system that stacks the deck against women and all but ignores them in the process. [Michael]

#17. Hard to Be a God

Rarely have I seen a film’s atmosphere so gorgeously and meticulously realized to the extent of Aleksei German’s final masterwork. Hard to Be a God follows a civilization of men and their out-of-sorts, peculiarly human god. They represent man as a whole, embodying his struggle through the early stages of primality. When do we leave behind beasts and garner the right to call ourselves men? More pressingly, do we ever, or have we been kidding ourselves for the last few thousand years? Hard to Be a God works so well chiefly because it cements itself into a primal world, one dominated by sludge, blood, and shit, so unbelievably well. Furthermore, in lieu of the film’s obvious rejection of sentiment, it is intriguing how it integrates the idea of God into its narrative. It doesn’t suggest that he doesn’t exist or has neglected us, but that he is struggling alongside us and, even more frightening, that he’s just as helpless. German’s magnum opus is a rattling, maddening three-hour journey into the depths of man’s darkest sensibilities. [Cameron]

#16. The Assassin

The moving image is rarely as entrancing as it is in Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s The Assassin, the Taiwanese master’s first film in over seven years. Expensive in its design, methodical in its every graceful move, the film penetrates the mind as swiftly and silently as Shu Qi’s Nie Yinniang disposes of her first target in the picture’s opening moments. Shot on film by Ping Bin Lee and designed by Huang Wen-Yin, Hou’s regular collaborators, The Assassin has a mise-en-scene that’s second to none this year. The subtle phenomenons of nature play a vital supporting role, one in which animals and flora are treated as sharing the same atmosphere with humans. More than any other film of the year, The Assassin shines the brightest light on the unique and boundless nature of its artform. It is spellbinding in every sense of the word. [Nik]

#15. Son of Saul

Son of Saul is a wonderful debut film of filmmaker Laszlo Nemes, which tells the story of Saul (Geza Rohrig), a prisoner and Sonderkommando member at Auschwitz who his searching for a rabbi so he can give his son’s body a proper burial. The film is incredible, from Rohrig’s outstanding performance to Nemes’ fantastic direction (all the more impressive considering it’s his first feature film). But I want to pay special attention to the work of cinematographer Matyas Erdely and the team behind the sound design of the film. Erdely beautifully shoots the film in a tight 4:3 frame, often putting Saul at the center and keeping the eye focused on his actions with most of the settings around him hard to fully take in visually. This is where the sound design is key, as it forces us to imagine the horrors around Saul. Together these elements create a truly unique experience adding up to one of the most powerful films to be released this year. [Ryan]

#14. The Forbidden Room

Guy Maddin and Evan Johnson’s sensational hodgepodge of silent-movie storylines are maniacally cut up into dozens of threads, then re-assembled by two drunk, blindfolded men with a brilliant sense of humor. The Forbidden Room is unlike anything you’ll ever see. Ever, not just in 2015. Studded with stars from all over the world, from the well-known like Charlotte Rampling, Roy Dupuis, and Geraldine Chaplin, to more local faces like Louis Negin and Gregory Hlady, the film is full of greedy volcanos, aswang bananas, catchy musical numbers, delusional doctors, scorned lovers, men breathing oxygen through flapjacks, and mustaches with a life of their own. Relentless with its pacing and editing, it’s not something that’s easily recommended (it broke the record for walk-outs when it screened at Sundance earlier in the year). But, it’s on here for a reason: through the unique structure and absurdist tone lies one of the most heartfelt odes to the wonders of cinematic storytelling. [Nik]

#13. The Look of Silence

The Look of Silence is every bit the masterpiece its companion piece, The Act of Killing, was. Joshua Oppenheimer returns to the residual horror of the Indonesian genocide, this time through the eyes of a victim. An optometrist named Adi Rukun confronts his brother’s killers under the pretense of testing their failing vision, and through his careful questioning the remorseless thought process of a monster is slowly dismantled. If there is any surreal sensibility left over from Oppenheimer’s last film it is in the shadow of death that haunts an eerily quiet land teeming with ghosts crying out in vain. The “silence” of the title is all around, both in the insightfully observed environment and the empty murmurings of men submerged in denial. The capacity human beings have to rationalize and normalize wickedness is on full display, and it’s mesmerizing in a terribly morbid way. Powerful, sobering and absolutely essential. [Byron]

#12. Inside Out

Inside Out is a tearjerker, which comes as no surprise—Pixar has been making us cry like babies for two decades. That’s sort of their whole deal. What makes this particular movie so special is how impossibly elaborate it is, conceptually. To represent one cognitive experience, visually, is a feat in itself. What Pixar’s done here is visually represent dozens and dozens of cognitive experiences and made them work in concert. It’s a tender, inventive, entertaining study on human emotion that speaks to the heart despite being so brainy. It’s also unique in that someone can watch it at five years old and then again at forty and have two wildly different and yet equally profound experiences. Next year, Pixar’s engaging sequel mode again with Finding Dory, but they took a big risk with an out-there movie like Inside Out and proved that there’s no shortage of new ideas coming out of the trailblazing East Bay studio. [Bernard]

#11. Mommy

Young Canadian filmmaker Xavier Dolan came into filmic fruition when he was only nineteen with the release of I Killed My Mother. Almost seven years and five films later, one of the youngest directors in the industry has created one of the most moving films of the 21st century. Despite its 2014 premiere at Cannes, the film did not receive a proper US release until January of 2015, meaning most people didn’t get a chance to experience its profundity until this year. Mommy focuses its narrative on the widow Diane (or “Die,” for short) and her difficult son, newly discharged from a behavioral rehabilitation facility and potentially suffering from a number of psychological disorders that cause him to have angry, violent outbursts. It’s shot in the unique 1:1 aspect ratio, which at first may seem like a peculiar decision, but once you’ve fallen deep into the emotional abyss of this heartbreaking tale, you’ll understand how a stylistic choice can transform into an emotive choice within a matter of seconds. [Eli]

#10. Phoenix

Christian Petzold’s Phoenix is perhaps the best film since the post-war era that deals with the holocaust, even though it’s not as interested in dealing directly with the images and happenings of the holocaust as that statement suggests. Instead, it’s about the scars of tragedy, and how great tragedy has the terrifying power to rob individuals of their identity. The film follows Nelly, a Jew from Berlin, as she returns to her home and her husband after living through the concentration camps. We never see flashbacks of what she went through. She tells us all through the expression stained onto her reconstructed face. Floating through the frame like a ghost, Nelly attempts to piece together her past, and Phoenix is a harrowing testament to how emancipation from tragic circumstance doesn’t erase the psychological wounds said tragedy has inflicted. It also deals with the idea that friends of those affected have absolutely no idea how to respond. How does one respond to such an atrocity? Though not technically a ghost story, Phoenix registers as an emotionally draining portrait of a wandering soul knocking on the door of a world from which she’s been exiled. [Cameron]

#9. Buzzard

Accurately describing Joel Potrykus’ Buzzard is a difficult task. The film doesn’t really fit into a specific genre, and the loose storytelling structure only complicates things on that end. Still, there’s something undeniably captivating about the tale of a millennial burnout that decides to rebel against his routine life. It’s not that the film is particularly relatable—Marty, the protagonist, is the embodiment of the worst society has to offer—but Buzzard takes viewers on a journey that gets far too real at times. Marty’s frustrations with his dead-end job, the boring people around him, and his way of living have the ability to cut very, very deep. From the beginning, Potrykus views a mundane subject with a bizarre lens, and Buzzard only gets weirder and weirder as it progresses. By the conclusion, it’s apparent just how effective the film is, despite its relatively low-key nature. Unlike any film you’ve seen this year, Buzzard is strangely comedic, unexpectedly dark, and certainly worth checking out. [Blair]

#8. Beasts of No Nation

Beasts of No Nation is a special convergence of extra-textual information. Being the first major fiction feature release from streaming outfit Netflix is a big deal, especially since they clearly had aspirations for awards with its purchase. More fitting, it is the first feature film from writer-director Cary Joji Fukunaga following his incredible breakout success with the first season of True Detective. Those already following Fukunaga’s career, however, know just how talented of a storyteller he is. Beasts of No Nation is his highest effort production, an absolutely beautiful film with often intense subject matter. The film studies the rise of young boy Agu (Abraham Attah) through a rebel group of fighters in an unnamed, nondescript African country. Through the eyes of Agu their war is truly unknowable—and the film purposefully makes no effort to help the audience understand what this group is really fighting for. This can be frustrating at times, but Fukunaga is persistent in his focus on tone and the specific actions of its main character. This creates a more ethereal movement, which is all the more frightening given the film’s horrendous nature. Along with Attah, who gives a fantastic and difficult performance for a young and inexperienced actor, Idris Elba’s towering role as the rebel group’s Commandant is among the most complex characters of the year. [Aaron]

#7. The Duke of Burgundy

Love is love, and few films express that statement as strongly as Peter Strickland’s The Duke of Burgundy. Starting out as a cutesy homage to the European erotica films of the ’70s (Jess Franco fans need to run, not walk, to this movie), Strickland explores the BDSM relationship between Cynthia (Sidse Babett Knudsen) and Evelyn (Chiara D’Anna), two women whose “roles” in the relationship don’t exactly match their true selves. With cinematography, production design, and a mood that feels lifted straight out of a dark fairy tale, Strickland’s dreamlike elements work together to heighten the universal truths at his film’s center. Here is a film that understands the work and compromise that comes with a relationship, the constant push and pull between selfishness and selflessness that can threaten to tear people apart, and it’s all shown through a hazy realm that leans more on the side of fantasy than reality. Yet Strickland puts emotions at the forefront, and by doing so lets the strength of Cynthia and Evelyn’s undeniable feelings for each other overshadow the luscious world they reside in. Love stories this original and beautifully realized are so rare, we should feel lucky we even have the chance to see them. [C.J.]

#6. Sicario

After directing a slew of extraordinary films who would have thought cinematic genius Denis Villeneuve’s latest effort would be his strongest and most politically resonant film to date? Well, maybe some, but it’s going to be a daunting task for Villeneuve to keep his streak of brilliance up for much longer; if he does, he’ll be reaching the unspeakable heights of consistency only names like Kubrick and Kieslowski have attained. Sicario concentrates on an FBI agent (Emily Blunt, in a gorgeously realized performance) who pulls herself into quite the plight when she accompanies a government task force on an enigma of a mission along the United States/Mexico border. To say any more about the plot and the manner in which it unfolds would be a disservice to a film with such an airtight narrative structure and masterful pacing. It’s a socioculturally relevant thrill-ride that you’ll have to experience for yourself, but its shocking and increasingly tense nature may be too extreme for some viewers. [Eli]

#5. It Follows

What can be said about It Follows that hasn’t already been said a million times before? It’s one of the greatest horror films to come along in years and a movie that works on multiple levels, with a new discovery being made upon each new viewing. A sexually transmitted monster has all the potential in the world to come across as cheesy, tacky, and otherwise ineffective, but director David Robert Mitchell approaches the subject matter with such a level of genuineness that it’s impossible not to take seriously. Featuring excellent, naturalistic performances from its young, often inexperienced cast, there’s a subtle nature to almost everything about It Follows. From the romance to the horror and even the humor, it’s all downplayed, which makes it all the more effective in the end. Many horror movies fall apart because their characters aren’t relatable, but in the It Follows universe, teenagers behave like teenagers—not like horror movie characters—and the film is all the more impressive because of that. From top to bottom, it’s easy to see why It Follows has been so well-received by audiences and critics alike, and its theatrical success serves as a beacon of hope for the future of independent horror. [Blair]

#4. Carol

There are so many exquisitely composed elements to Todd Haynes’ achingly beautiful new movie Carol that it becomes difficult to single out the aspects that make it so great. There is Phyllis Nagy’s delicate script, adapted from the Patricia Highsmith novel The Price of Salt, which allows the film’s central romantic plot to unfold in a patient and deliberate way. There are the wonderfully ornate period sets and costumes, with bold red accents that jump off the screen thanks to Edward Lachman’s stunning cinematography. And, of course, there are the performances—not just from the always-excellent Cate Blanchett or Audrey Hepburn-esque Rooney Mara—but an earnest Sarah Paulson, a scorned Kyle Chandler, and a sleazy John Magaro, as well.

The first of Haynes’ six feature films in which he didn’t contribute to the script, Carol is the director’s most precise work to date—from its production details to the performances. While the filmmaker’s movies often focus on LGBT identity, the striking thing about the intimacy in Carol is its universality. Therese and Carol are more than women in a lesbian romance affected by the obstacles of a bygone era; they’re people stifled by the expectations placed on each of them.

As Blanchett stares across at Mara over a cocktail or a shop counter, you’ll want to lean in closer, too. The pair’s carefully chosen words tease out the affair. Watching them slowly go back-and-forth, with alluring smirks and guarded looks, is among the most entrancing pleasures in film this year, as is the sound of Cate Blanchett simply saying, “Therese.” [Zach]

#3. Ex Machina

The trio at the heart of filmmaker Alex Garland’s directorial debut, Ex Machina, represents an intricate blend of old and new. Invoking memories of past great fictional characters like Doctors Frankenstein and Moreau, Pinocchio’s creator Geppetto, and even Willie Wonka, is Nathan (Oscar Isaac), the inconceivably wealthy and immeasurably intelligent inventor of a fictional Google-like search engine. Representing the future is Ava (the spellbinding Alicia Vikander), an artificially intelligent robot created by Nathan. Caught between creator and creation is Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), a whiz of a programmer whom Nathan recruits to test Ava’s believability as an AI, but a simple man nonetheless and the pivotal completing part of this most bizarre of love triangles. As Caleb studies Ava and gradually becomes taken by her, so too does Ava study, and fall for, Caleb. Watching them both is Nathan, whose motives for recruiting Caleb become cloudier as the days pass. What first presents itself as a futuristic drama laced with themes of morality and anchored by a peculiar alpha-male (Isaac is terrific as the genius recluse), gradually becomes a riveting psychological thriller that keeps the viewer captivated and drives to a bold ending. Sci-fi noir is alive and well and is not to be missed with Ex Machina. [Michael]

#2. Spotlight

Tom McCarthy has done the unthinkable. Just one year after directing the horrific flop The Cobbler, McCarthy turns in a film that not just rinses the bad taste out of our mouths from his previous effort, it puts him in the conversation for one of the best films of the year. Spotlight is a gripping newsroom drama based on the Catholic Church’s sex abuse scandal uncovered by the Boston Globe. Though despite the grim subject matter, watching Spotlight unfold is utterly entertaining. That’s because the film keeps its foot on the acceleration for the whole ride, providing plenty of energy and tension without wasting a single moment.

Spotlight is a well-oiled machine firing on all cylinders. Not only does the electrifying pace carry the neatly arranged script, but the ensemble cast puts on a clinic on how to act as a team. It also doesn’t hurt that the cast is comprised of A-listers like Stanley Tucci, Mark Ruffalo, Michael Keaton, Liev Schreiber, and Rachel McAdams, each performing at the top of their game. Any one of them could have stolen the show by flexing their acting muscles; instead, they show discipline by working together, creating incredible chemistry and making the entire film better in the process. Without being exploitative (which would have been easy given the subject), Spotlight exceeds by focusing on the teamwork of its investigative journalism case. The film doesn’t just do a few things right, it does everything right, which is why Spotlight is one of the best procedurals in years. [Dustin]

#1. Mad Max: Fury Road

There are many things I expected from George Miller’s long-awaited next installment/reboot of his Mad Max series. I knew there would be explosions. I knew there would be cars embellished with crazy apocalyptic garnishments. I knew there would be a lot of sand. And I figured there would be a fair amount of zooming vehicles flipping and being walked on as though the laws of physics don’t apply in this futuristic world. I did not expect there to be larger themes than your garden variety hero tale. And I certainly did not expect the hero to not be Mad Max. Waiting 30 years to create the next vision of his gasoline-fueled future, Miller proves he has ungodly amounts of patience. Patience to ensure that technology would catch up with his vision, and patience to ensure that when he told his next story it would be to an audience who could fathom that even in a world of chaos, the significance of equality is fundamental to our humanity and worth fighting like hell for. Not everyone has embraced the surprising themes of Fury Road, but those tickled by just how exciting, fun, and road raging this action film is can’t help but admit that what raises it to perfection are the kick ass ladies leading the charge and the deeper issues they face. Mad Max: Fury Road closes with a quote from the future: “Where must we go…we who wander this Wasteland in search of our better selves?” Miller pushes us to consider our place and responsibility, no matter the wasteland we call home. And like his War Boys, his mouth shiny and chrome, Miller presents his film as though to say “Witness me!” Turns out an action film can be a visual extravaganza and hold itself up with a stiff backbone of ethics and morality. Witness the bar being raised. [Ananda]

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.

Master craftsman Hou Hsiao-Hsien, whose last film was over seven years ago (Flight of the Red Balloon), returns to the world cinema stage with The Assassin. It’s a grand return, one that has left many cinephiles breathless, stunned, and slightly paralyzed in its wake. For the magic he managed to conjure on screen, Hou received the Best Director award at Cannes. It’s his first dabble in the wuxia genre (traditional martial art), an integral part of Chinese culture and art history, and thanks to his perfectionist dedication to the language of cinema, history will no doubt look back on his contribution as one that’s strengthened this tradition. The immediate predecessors that come to mind, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero, and House of Flying Daggers, have all been expertly cut down and defeated by the new champion of 21st century wuxia. You might have to go all the way back to the 70s, and the films of King Hu, to find a matching opponent.

Of course, I write the martial arts analogies with a cheeky smile. Hou Hsiou-Hisen’s new picture is no way competing with Ang Lee and Zhang Yimou’s films. It’s just that The Assassin is building uncharacteristic castles in a familiar sandbox, and the result is a film simultaneously beholden to a long-standing tradition and levitating in its own league. We use ‘slice of life’ to describe films in contemporary settings, dealing with contemporary problems and usually shot in that shaky cinéma vérité style, but Hou transports us to 8th century China so completely that he manages to achieve something altogether remarkable. A slice of Tang Dynasty life, shot in the equivalent of an 8th century imperial shake: the methodical to-and-fro.

With the mise-en-scène so ornately defined, and the camera swaying as if it’s a talisman suspended on an invisible string, Ping Bin Lee’s cinematography acts as sprinkled faerie dust that completes the spell. The result is total submission and immersion into the world of The Assassin. ‘Pure cinema’ is a term often overused, but here we have a film that redefines purity on screen from one everlasting moment to the next, and because of the overwhelming magnificence of image, majesty of light, and meditation of pace, the plot of the film is tough to follow on the first go-around. Made all the tougher because of Hou’s (and the four(!) other writers credited with the story) unconventional use of expository dialogue, unannounced introductions of characters and events, and lack of concern with explanation. If one imagines The Assassin as an opera, where the flow of images overwhelm the watcher just as singers’ voices do the listener, then consider the following couple of paragraphs a libretto.

The setting is 8th century China, during the decline of the Tang Dynasty, where the province of Weibo has distanced itself as the strongest threat to the Imperial Court. Tian Ji’an (Chang Chen) is the current lord of Weibo, and cousin to our assassin, Yinniang (Shu Qi). Their shared history began when Yinniang’s mother, an imperial princess, married Ji’iang’s father, in order to seal Weibo’s promise of not attacking the Court. The two children grew close and were even betrothed to one another, but when a Ming lord wanted to forge an alliance with Weibo under the condition that it be enforced by marriage, the Princess had to break her promise to Yinniang, and Tian Ji’ian was married to Lady Tian (Zhou Yun). Rebellious to the point of putting her own life in danger, Yinniang was sent away to live under the tutelage of a Master nun (Sheu Fang-Yi). The nun taught Yinniang the ways of the sword over the years, but after failing to kill a target because he was in the presence of his son, she puts the young woman’s heart to the test. Yinniang must return to Weibo, after so many years have passed, and kill Tian Ji’an.

Most of that is history, told in stoical monologues by Yinniang’s aunt, her mother’s twin sister (Mei Yong), or by Tian Ji’ian to his concubine Huji (Hsin-Ying Hsieh). The plot becomes purposefully mystified by three narrative threads that are mostly woven between frames. The first is about one of Ji’ian’s generals, Tian Xing (Lei Zhen-Yu), who arouses panic in the Weibo council and must be escorted off the premises by the Lord Provost, Ji’an’s and Yinniang’s uncle (Ni Da-Hong). The second concerns a report given to Lady Tian about Huji’s faked period blood, which in turn introduces a mysterious sorcerer (Jacques Picoux). And the third is the involvement of a nameless mirror-polisher (Satoshi Tsumabuki), who ends up playing a key role in Tian Xing’s escort. Oh, how can I forget the nameless, masked assassin who gets in Yinniang’s way?

The narrative is as cloudy as the sky that presides like a silent judge over all of these activities. Steeped in Chinese mysticism and tradition, what maneuvers emotions in The Assassin are jades, mojo’s, tales of songbirds, and unspoken acts of mercy and kindness. Dialogue isn’t used as exposition for the action we are about to see or have seen, but exposition of events long since transpired. The very first thing we see in the film is a couple of donkeys, grazing and foreshadowing the kind of attention Hou will pay nature over the next two hours. One particularly jaw-dropping take sees Yinniang meeting her Master on a mountaintop, where the movement of the clouds is as important to the scene as the blocking, dialogue, performance, and cinematography. This all-encompassing and punctilious observation is no doubt going to mystify those audience members who are so accustomed to watching a plot-driven movie. And yet, those who pay careful attention know The Assassin‘s main plot is comprehensible, albeit one fully grasped on repeat viewings.

That’s not meant to be a slight to anyone who left The Assassin slightly confused the first time out. It’s meant as a compliment to Hou and his team – from production and costume designer Wen Ying-Huang to editor Chih-Chia Huang, cinematographer Lee and all the actors (most notably Shu Qi, who embodies Yinniang so seamlessly) – for transporting us back into the past so expertly. Every piece of fabric, every lantern, and every leaf in this film feels like it belongs with purpose, carrying within it its own rich history. Hou’s takes are long, and his camera movements are never rushed, but life’s current flows through the frames of The Assassin–-in the way her uncle looks at Yinniang, behind the curtains of Huji’s quarters, in Lady Tuan’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile…—suffusing the picture with a mythical potency that feels remarkably present. The volatile nature of the narrative is thus a reflection of life as the ancient philosopher Lao Tzu meant it: “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” By abiding to this philosophy so wholeheartedly, and crafting his world so meticulously, Hou has attained the rarity of a perfect film.

Is it even possible to whittle down TIFF’s line-up to 15? This year TIFF has 399 shorts and features playing the festival, an insane number that has us asking questions like “Why are there so many movies?” and “Why couldn’t the 400th movie be Carol?” among many others.

Every year at TIFF is an embarrassment of riches, and this year is no different, so we had a tough time narrowing our choices down to what we consider the essentials (even crueler: it’s unlikely we’ll catch all of these at the festival, meaning we’re praying some of these get released soon or get some sort of distribution deal). But we did manage to come up with a list, and it’s a varied one. There are some films we missed at festivals earlier this year, some brand spanking new ones by directors we love, a return from a master of the cinema, and one film from a newbie that looks like it could be one of the most unforgettable experiences of this year’s festival.

Read on to see our picks below, and be sure to keep reading the site for our coverage of the Toronto International Film Festival for the rest of the month.

Anomalisa

Charlie Kaufman. A name that, for those familiar with the man’s work, justifies the length of a paragraph to be all but two words on this list. Kaufman’s screenplays—Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind–-burst people’s notions of original comedy, with plots, settings, characters, and dialogue that turned the ordinary into the fascinatingly unique. It’s easy to get lost in Kaufman’s eccentricities, but there’s profound stuff underneath his squiggly surface (especially evident with his directorial debut Synecdoche, New York). His latest effort is a stop-motion animation feature, co-directed by Duke Johnson, with Jennifer Jason Leigh, David Thewlis, and Kaufman regular Tom Noonan providing the voice talent, about a misanthrope travelling to Cincinnati to give a keynote speech about his bestselling book on customer service. From the purportedly fantastic look of the film, to the much welcomed return of Kaufman’s sui generis imagination, everything about Anomalisa so far (including early raves from Telluride) fills this film to the gills with promise. [Nik]

Arabian Nights

Miguel Gomes has been popping his head out from the subterranean levels of arthouse since 2008’s Our Beloved Month of August, but it was his sensational and half-silent 2012 film Tabu that wrote him on the proverbial map with permanent ink. Now he’s back with what is his most ambitious effort to date, a sprawling 6-hour epic split into three volumes based on the infamous Middle Eastern and Asian stories, 1001 Nights. Going by the popular English title of the collection, Arabian Nights pushes the boundaries of narrative with its three volumes—titled The Restless One, The Desolate One, The Enchanted One respectively—and sets events in Portugal, elucidating on the country’s socioeconomic issues through allegory and Gomes’ signature vigor for cinematic storytelling. Using a mesh of satire and fantasy, fiction and non-fiction, the film has been hailed as a genuinely stirring cinematic experience in all respects since it premiered in Cannes’ Director’s Fortnight, and we are beyond excited to see it at TIFF. [Nik]

The Assassin

Gestating in development for over ten years, and scaling a mountain of budgetary hurdles all while learning to adjust to the ever-changing climate of film production, Hou Hisao-Hisen’s latest film is finally here. For a film that’s been anticipated this long, directed by a beloved legend of Taiwanese arthouse cinema, the hype for The Assassin was strained with a mix of excitement and slight trepidation before it premiered at Cannes. The film turned out to be a critical hit, and Hou was commemorated with a Best Director prize (many believed it would walk away with the Palme). This wuxia tale follows a trained killer (Shu Qi) who is forced to choose between her heart and her profession when she gets her latest assignment. Yeah, it’s a synopsis bland enough to fit the description of the worst kind of Steven Segal movie, but its plot is not why The Assassin has already been hailed as a masterpiece by many. With a master filmmaker at the helm, the film’s qualities are found in its aesthetics, mood, composition, and a refined kind of slow-burning mystery that seems to cast a spell on all who see it. Yummy. [Nik]

Baskin

After discovering Baskin’s inclusion in the Midnight Madness programme, I contacted director Can Evrenol to get a glimpse at his 2013 short film (which this film is based on). Evrenol was gracious enough to let me see his short, and the moment it ended I knew I had to catch his feature-length adaptation at TIFF. Both the short and the film have the same synopsis: a group of cops responding to a call for backup arrive at an abandoned building that turns out to be the home of some sort of horrifying dark arts ritual. By the time the cops realise they’ve stumbled into some seriously freaky, occult type stuff, all hell literally breaks loose. The short is a brief and twisted slice of fun, and Baskin looks like it’s expanding in all the right ways: gorier, nastier, and with plenty more horrifying surprises in store. Midnight Madness programmer Colin Geddes has gone on record saying that Baskin might rival the legendary premiere of Martyrs at TIFF in 2008, and based on what I’ve seen of Baskin, I’m inclined to believe he might turn out to be right. [C.J.]

Beasts of No Nation

Fresh off the enormous success of True Detective, Cary Fukunaga returns to the big screen with more critical clout than ever before. Beasts of No Nation marks the writer/director’s third feature, and it looks to be a work of greater intensity and visceral impact than either of his previous films. From a Mexican immigration drama (Sin Nombre) to a classic bildungsroman adaptation set in Victorian England (Jane Eyre), Fukunaga now takes us to an unnamed country in Africa where a young boy struck by tragedy is forced to become a child soldier in a ferocious civil war. Fukunaga’s versatility is truly impressive, and with this film carrying the added plus of Idris Elba (in what could potentially be his greatest role yet), I’d say it’s shaping up to be yet another feather in the cap of an exciting and steadily rising filmmaker. [Byron]

Black Mass

Scott Cooper is someone who hasn’t quite broken out yet as a “name director.” Crazy Heart was acknowledged for its performances and music despite being a solid character study with real directorial sensitivity, and while Out of the Furnace proved to be somewhat bland and predictable, it still contained glimmers of a filmmaker with a distinct vision. With his third film, Black Mass, Cooper is tackling something of significant scale. It’s the story of the notorious gangster Whitey Bulger, and the project boasts a killer cast. Johnny Depp arrives in heavy makeup once again, this time in a different context, and he appears to be in rare form, exuding charisma that is terrifyingly deceptive rather than merely quirky. With such a weighty subject, there’s a lot that could go wrong, but hopefully Cooper rises to the occasion and finally takes the spotlight, delivering something more like The Departed than Killing Them Softly. [Byron]

Cemetery of Splendour

Arguably the greatest arthouse filmmaker of the 21st century, Apichatpong Weerasethakul is more beloved than the spelling of his full name is hard to memorize. Every feature he’s directed—most especially Tropical Malady, Syndromes of a Century, and Palme D’Or-winner Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives—has been studied by cinephiles for their hypnotic power and spiritual sensations. His latest is titled Cemetery of Splendor, and if that’s not enticing enough (it should be), its Cannes premiere was met with the kind of plaudits worthy of Weerasethakul’s venerated oeuvre. The film follows a housewife who volunteers at a clinic where she befriends a soldier with a mysterious sleeping sickness and meets a medium who helps family members communicate with their comatose relatives. In typical Weerasethakul fashion, dreams, memory, and romance are weaved together to create a mystical viewing experience. We couldn’t be more ready for this. [Nik]

Evolution

Way back in January of this year, I picked Lucile Hadžihalilović’s Evolution as one of my most anticipated films of 2015. I figured it would premiere at Cannes, given it went into production last year, but Cannes came and went without her film appearing. I forgot about the film (partially to not disappoint myself again), so once it got announced at part of TIFF’s Vanguard programme this year I was ecstatic. Little was known about Evolution back when I first wrote about it, but now there’s a better idea of what to expect. The film centres on a ten-year-old boy living on an island with no adult males, only women and young boys like himself. The boys undergo various medical experiments, and Nicholas decides to investigate what’s going on. Rather than explain why Evolution is on my radar again, I’ll just quote its programmer Colin Geddes who told me it’s “a sublime, body horror, fairy tale mystery.” I don’t think it’s possible to hear a description like that and not get intrigued. [C.J.]

High-Rise

I won’t lie: I’ve been deliberately avoiding learning much about Ben Wheatley’s High-Rise, which is having its world premiere this year in TIFF’s competitive Platform programme. I know it has a killer cast (Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Elisabeth Moss and Luke Evans, to name a few). I know it’s an adaptation of a J.G. Ballard novel, it involves different people living in an apartment building, and that Clint Mansell is doing the score. That’s about it. So why am I putting this down as one of my most anticipated titles of TIFF? Because Ben Wheatley is one of the more exciting names in international cinema right now, hopping between genres with ease and delivering films that are truly distinct. This looks like a return to the moodier, intense fare of Kill List along with the chamber piece quality of his terrific debut Down Terrace (which largely took place in a house). High-Rise sounds like a literal expansion for Wheatley compared to his low-budget first feature: a bigger cast, a bigger budget, a bigger location and a bigger scale. Here’s hoping Wheatley makes the most of it. [C.J.]

Mountains May Depart

To be honest, I don’t know much about Mountains May Depart, but what I do know is that Jia Zhangke’s A Touch of Sin was one of the best movies to emerge from 2013. Brutal and depressing in equal measures, the film is an anthology that presented the deeply troubled nature of modern China through powerful allegory. Jia’s follow-up seems to cover similarly ambitious ground, spanning two generations and confronting the effects of a rapidly changing societal landscape. No matter what the story details are, Mountains May Depart is a must-see purely because it places the audience in the secure hands of a great cinematic social commentator. [Byron]

Office

Want to know how much I love Johnnie To? Whenever I see the word “musical” I tend to run in the other direction, yet I’m clearing my TIFF schedule to fit in the musical Office because he’s helming it. The film marks two firsts for To, a director who’s been working for decades with an insanely prolific and consistent output; it’s his first musical, and his first film in 3D. Seeing To tackle new areas only gets me more excited, because he’s shown multiple times that he has no problem adapting any genre to his economic and quick-paced style. Based on the hit play by Sylvia Chang (who also stars in Mountains May Depart), Office sounds like a continuation of To’s recent fixation on the corporate class and the 2008 financial crisis seen in films like Don’t Go Breaking My Heart and Life Without Principle. But this time, To has recruited big names like Chang and Chow Yun-Fat, along with (what sounds like) full-blown song and dance numbers. Early word on Office has been great, and I can’t wait to see what will surely be To’s unique take on the musical. [C.J.]

Sunset Song

Suffused with rich feeling and evocative melancholia, Terence Davies’ movies are like a vintage wine that sentimentality has rendered priceless; only to be uncorked for a momentous occasion. Which is exactly what the world premiere of his latest picture, Sunset Song, already feels like. Coming off the heels of The Deep Blue Sea, probably the most underrated and misunderstood film of its year, Sunset Song is a period piece set in the cinegenic Scottish countryside of the 1930s, and based on a book by Lewis Grassic Gibon that’s been called the most important Scottish novel of the 20th century. Other than a few gorgeous-looking stills, and the announcement of the cast which includes the brilliant Peter Mullan, mum’s been the word on the details behind Davies’ adaptation. But if he sticks close to Gibbon’s story, we’ll be following the hard life of young Chris Guthrie (Agyness Deyn), a woman growing up in a dysfunctional household, on a farm in Scotland. We expect nothing less than the same refined and lyrical cinematic precision we’ve been getting from one of Britain’s most celebrated auteurs. [Nik]

Where to Invade Next?

America’s most divisive filmmaker returns with a new documentary sure to inspire an avalanche of critical blog posts, angry tweets and bitter Fox News segments. It’s been six years since Michael Moore released Capitalism: A Love Story, and little is known about his new project outside of the vague notion that it will concern the United States’ unending condition of being at war in some capacity. I’ve always been fond of Moore’s work, despite the loudness of his mouth and the dubiousness of his specific claims. For sheer entertainment value, his films are about as hilariously satirical as documentaries get, but beneath the unabashed agenda and supposed methods of misdirection lies a sobering reality demanding our immediate attention. For this reason, I can’t wait to see Where to Invade Next? and revel in the controversy it will inevitably stir up. [Byron]

The Witch

If the reactions out of Sundance earlier this year are any indication, The Witch is the latest installment in a recent string of thoughtful indie horror pictures (such as It Follows and The Babadook) vying for “instant classic” status. The film is a period piece—something far too uncommon in the genre these days—and tells the tale of 17^th century New England settlers encountering evil forces in a nearby forest while perhaps confronting their own inner demons as well. I like my horror cinema grim and ambiguous, and the film’s brilliant trailer seems to promise a gloomy tone and ominous atmosphere, along with what might be the most malevolent on-screen goat since Drag Me to Hell (although likely not as humorous). A 2016 release date pretty much guarantees a series of sold-out shows at this year’s fest, so don’t hesitate to check it out if you get the chance. [Byron]

Yakuza Apocalypse

Back in May when Yakuza Apocalypse premiered at Cannes, it sounded like Takashi Miike was back in full-force. But then again, considering his insanely prolific output (I’ve lost track of his films, there are too many), “full-force” seems to be status quo for Miike. The image above should give you an idea of what Yakuza Apocalypse might be like: insane, bonkers, all over the place, nonsensical and yet completely entertaining to watch. The film starts out with a Yakuza boss revealed to be a vampire, and soon the entire town he rules over gets converted into vampires as they try to remove threats to their way of life. And also there’s something about a fighting alien toad, the apocalypse, and whatever else Miike could think of apparently. When it comes to Miike, I don’t ask questions anymore. He’s proven himself to be an amazing director, so when I get the chance to see one of his latest films I’ll go on blind faith. Sometimes his films don’t work out for me, but other times they work spectacularly. Yakuza Apocalypse looks like it’s going to fall more into the “spectacular” category. [C.J.]

It’s been a tumultuous year at Cannes, and today’s surprising awards ceremony certainly made for a fitting ending to this year’s festivities. Festival head Thierry Fremaux got lots of criticism thrown at him for his picks this year, which went heavy on French films, but this year’s festival jury—headed by Joel and Ethan Coen—had lots of love for the French selections. Best Actor went to Vincent Lindon for The Measure Of a Man, and Emmanuelle Bercot got a shared Best Actress prize for her turn in Maiwenn’s Mon Roi.

But the biggest surprise came when Jacques Audiard’s Dheepan was announced as the winner of the Palme D’Or. Audiard is a fine director (many of us here are fans of A Prophet, which got him the Grand Prix back in 2009), but critics were mostly sour on Dheepan, criticizing it for a startling turn in the final act that didn’t work for most people. And people were shocked that the two critically adored films in this year’s competition, Todd Haynes’ Carol and Hou Hsaio-hsien’s The Assassin, didn’t wind up taking home the big prizes; Hsaio-hsien won Best Director (considering how much of the film was praised for its gorgeous visuals, this sounds pretty deserving), and Carol got a Best Actress prize for Rooney Mara. But with Carol receiving a nice, Oscar-friendly release date in December from Harvey Weinstein, and The Assassin already bought up for US distribution, this certainly won’t be the last we’ll hear of these two films.

The only predictable outcome this year was Son of Saul winning the Grand Prix, which people assumed would be taking home a prize after it screened to a strong reception. It’s an impressive win, considering this is director Laszlo Nemes’ first feature, and it should have a nice tour around the festival circuit for the rest of the year. Another slight shocker was Michel Franco winning Best Screenplay for Chronic, but that might only come as a shock to anyone who’s seen his previous films; he’s a filmmaker known more for his directorial skills, and it sounds like critics were baffled by his win.

Read on below for the full list of winners, and expect to see a good chunk of these films get some sort of release throughout 2015 and 2016. While we only got the chance to see a few films this year, including Jury Prize winner The Lobster, we’re eager to check all these winners out once they play closer to home. Until then, all we can do is wait until we do it all over again next May.

2015 Cannes Winners

Camera D’Or (Best First Feature): La Tierra Y La Sombra

Best Screenplay: Chronic

Best Actress: Rooney Mara, Carol; Emmanuelle Bercot, Mon Roi

Jury Prize: The Lobster

Best Actor: Vincent London, The Measure Of A Man

Best Director: Hou Hsiao-hsien, The Assassin

Grand Jury Prize: Son Of Saul

Palme D’Or: Dheepan