This year, instead of filling out that annual Oscar ballot for your office pool—which, lets face it, is always won by the person who never watches any of the movies—you should convince your co-workers to fill out an Independent Spirit Awards ballot. Your office will be the hippest on the block, and with my guide of winner predictions, you’ll finally be able to beat Henry from accounting. Plus, watching the Spirit Awards is infinitely more entertaining than the Academy Awards due to its layed back atmosphere and unstuffy attitude. In addition to my predictions below, I detail my reasoning for each category winner and also who to watch out for as a potential sleeper.

You can catch the Independent Spirit Awards live on IFC on Saturday, February 27, 2016 at 2:00 PM PT and see how accurate these predictions hold up.

2016 Independent Spirit Award Predictions

(Predicted winners are highlighted in red bolded font)

Anomalisa
Beasts of No Nation
Carol
Spotlight
Tangerine

Sean Baker – Tangerine
Cary Joji Fukunaga – Beasts of No Nation
Todd Haynes – Carol
Charlie Kaufman & Duke Johnson – Anomalisa
Tom McCarthy – Spotlight
David Robert Mitchell – It Follows

Charlie Kaufman – Anomalisa
Donald Margulies – The End of the Tour
Phyllis Nagy – Carol
Tom McCarthy & Josh Singer – Spotlight
S. Craig Zahler – Bone Tomahawk

Christopher Abbott – James White
Abraham Attah – Beasts of No Nation
Ben Mendelsohn – Mississippi Grind
Jason Segel – The End of the Tour
Koudous Seihon – Mediterranea

Cate Blanchett – Carol
Brie Larson – Room
Rooney Mara – Carol
Bel Powley – The Diary of a Teenage Girl
Kitana Kiki Rodriguez- Tangerine

Kevin Corrigan – Results
Paul Dano – Love & Mercy
Idris Elba – Beasts of No Nation
Richard Jenkins – Bone Tomahawk
Michael Shannon – 99 Homes

Robin Bartlett – H.
Marin Ireland – Glass Chin
Jennifer Jason Leigh – Anomalisa
Cynthia Nixon – James White
Mya Taylor – Tangerine

The Diary of a Teenage Girl
James White
Manos Sucia
Mediterranea
Songs My Brothers Taught Me

Jesse Andrews – Me and Earl and the Dying Girl
Jonas Carpignano – Mediterranea
Emma Donoghue – Room
Marielle Heller – The Diary of a Teenage Girl
John Magary, Russell Harbaugh, Myna Josep – The Mend

Cary Joji Fukunaga – Beasts of No Nation
Ed Lachman – Carol
Joshua James Richards – Songs My Brothers Taught Me
Michael Gioulakis – It Follows
Reed Morano – Meadowland

Embrace of the Serpent
Girlhood
Mustang
A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence
Son of Saul

Best of Enemies
Heart of a Dog
The Look of Silence
Meru
The Russian Woodpecker
(T)ERROR

Beasts of No Nation
Heaven Knows What
It Follows
Room
Spotlight

Advantageous
Christmas, Again
Heaven Knows What
Krisha
Out of My Hand

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]

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]

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.

Bernard got plastered while trying on costumes this week, so CJ’s taking the wheel as he hosts this very special Halloween edition of the Way To Indiecast. Joining them is director H.P. Mendoza, who’s here to talk about his inventively spooky movie I Am A Ghost and share his favorite ghostly horror movies. Plus, as always, our Indie Picks of the Week! Happy Halloween, movie lovers!

For more of H.P.’s work, visit hpmendoza.com

Topics

• Indie Picks (2:16)
• I Am A Ghost (9:55)
• Favorite Ghostly Horror Movies (24:21)

Articles Referenced

H.P. Mendoza Interview
I Am A Ghost Review
The Look of Silence Review
Joshua Oppenheimer Indiecast
Tokyo Tribe Review
Tangerine Review

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For the majority of The Look of Silence, we watch a man named Adi confront several men responsible for the gruesome murder of his brother, Ramli. One by one he looks them in the eye and does something extraordinary—he asks them how they feel.

In 1965-66 Indonesia, over a million people associated with the communist community were slaughtered, a genocide so terrible many Indonesians have deluded themselves to the long-term madness and pain suffered by those who were affected by the atrocity (which accounts for just about everybody). Director Joshua Oppenheimer‘s Oscar-nominated 2013 documentary The Act of Killing told the story of the genocide through the memories of several of its perpetrators. The Look of Silence, Oppenheimer’s companion documentary to the latter, is a more somber, sobering affair though it’s no less hard to watch.

That brings us back to Adi, sitting in front of the men responsible for Ramli’s murder, staring at them with unblinking empathy and a bit of disbelief. Most people in Adi’s position would be seething balls of anger, and we would all understand. What a wild thing, to confront your brother’s killers and ask them how they feel. In one of the film’s confrontations, Adi asks a man who works in legislature how he can do politics knowing he’s surrounded by families broken by the butcherings he oversaw in the ’60s. The man’s response is predictably defensive and harsh, but the amazing thing is that Adi takes the time to ask the man about his life rather than unleash a tirade about his own loss, his family’s loss.

Adi’s strength and dignity is what The Look of Silence is all about. One after another, we watch him speak to these murderers, all of them in a state of denial and false absolution. They’re blind to the horrors they’re responsible for and have yet to see what Adi and the victims’ families see, that to not face the ghosts of the past head-on is an act of disrespect that will never be forgiven until they fess up and accept their culpability.

A recurring image punctuates the story, reinforcing the reality of Adi’s sorrow: we see him sitting calmly, eyes alert. He’s watching footage of a group of men laughing and boasting as they recall in great detail how they tortured and splayed their fellow countrymen in the anti-communist purge. They even reenact Ramli’s murder. Unlike these, Adi faces the past with honor, painful as it is.

Like The Act of Killing, The Look of Silence is excruciating to watch. It covers one of the ugliest stories any of us will ever know, and Oppenheimer’s approach gives us no safety zone or space for relief. While some documentaries offer sweeping music to lighten the blow of the heavy material, Oppenheimer provides no music at all, challenging us to reckon with this madness just as Adi is challenging the perpetrators. The stillness of the imagery is haunting, with shots of empty scenery evoking the lost souls from the slaughter. And appropriately so: the truth about the deceased is exactly what the perpetrators are so scared to dredge up.

If only the killers would express a measure of regret for their mistakes, Adi would forgive them and embrace their admission. Adi’s an optometrist, and with each confrontation he brings with him tools to fit his interviewees with glasses. The fact that Adi is risking his life talking to these men (not to mention his family’s) hangs over the film like a thundercloud. In one of the later sessions, a perpetrator senile in his old age is joined by his daughter to help facilitate the interview. The daughter learns of his murderous ways right then and there for the first time and is immediately apologetic and grateful to Adi for his patience and grace.

It’s the only time we come up for air, though; in the next scene, Adi speaks with the sons of a perpetrator, and they all but throw a tantrum, verbally damning Adi and Oppenheimer from their home. Oppenheimer’s heartbreaking films have caused a great stir in Indonesia, where a conversation about the purge is finally starting to emerge. Judging from the reactions of the murderers The Look of Silence captures, this may be a conversation that could go on for decades. Heaven knows where they’ll end up, but at least through this film and Adi’s mission the victims have a voice.

December hasn’t even started yet, and the lists are already starting to come out. Sight & Sound just put out their list of the year’s best films, and it’s quite the mix between awards fare and more out there material. Now you may be asking yourself, “Why are we talking about this list?” Well it’s because Sight & Sound, run by the BFI, is one of the most respected film publications in the world. They’re also responsible for the survey on the greatest films ever made that gets updated once a decade, the gold standard when it comes to all-time lists.

So what’s on this list? First off, it’s based on UK release, so some films like Wolf of Wall Street and The Wind Rises are on the list despite coming out last year in the US. Putting those aside, the top of the list doesn’t come as a surprise with Richard Linklater’s Boyhood at number one. Seeing the number 1 next to Boyhood is going to be a sight we all have to get used to by the end of the year (not that anyone’s complaining, though). After that it’s a range of titles from the more mainstream (The Grand Budapest Hotel, Ida, Mr. Turner, Birdman) to the extreme arthouse picks (Jauja, Horse Money, Goodbye to Language). In other words, watching these movies will give you a fair share of the accessible and inaccessible in 2014.

Read the list below, check out our reviews for some of the films by clicking on them, and take a peek over at the Sight & Sound website for more information on the list. And be sure to check out all of Way Too Indie’s year-end coverage coming up throughout December, when we reveal our list of the best films of 2014 at a more reasonable date than the end of November.

Sight & Sound’s Best Films of 2014

1. Boyhood
2. Goodbye to Language 3D
3. (tie) Leviathan
3. (tie) Horse Money
5. Under the Skin
6. The Grand Budapest Hotel
7. Winter Sleep
8. (tie) The Tribe
8. (tie) Ida
8. (tie) Jauja
11. (tie) Mr. Turner
11. (tie) National Gallery
11. (tie) The Wolf of Wall Street
11. (tie) Whiplash
15. The Duke of Burgundy
16. (tie) Birdman
16. (tie) Two Days, One Night
18. (tie) Citizenfour
18. (tie) The Look of Silence
18. (tie) The Wind Rises

After making The Act of Killing, Joshua Oppenheimer goes back to the same subject matter for his follow-up The Look of Silence. A brief background: In The Act of Killing, Joshua Oppenheimer followed several people responsible for slaughtering hundreds, if not thousands, of suspected communists in the 1960s military coup of Indonesia. Oppenheimer was shocked to see that, not only did the military get away with murdering over one million people, the perpetrators continue to stay in power, bragging openly about their war crimes.

Oppenheimer’s ability to let the killers indulge led to sickening profound results, but for The Look of Silence the perspective switches from criminal to victim. Adi, an optometrist in a small village, wants to expose the reality about his country’s past, his motivation being the brutal murder of his older brother by death squad leaders. Since these war criminals are Adi’s neighbours, he’s able to see them under the pretense of checking their eyes for new glasses. Oppenheimer films Adi as he gently probes and confronts the men responsible for his brother’s death, something that causes plenty of resistance from the interview subjects.

Scenes of Adi confronting the men responsible for his brother’s death are inherently compelling, but compared to Act of Killing, a complete masterpiece, The Look of Silence doesn’t come close to matching its predecessors’ greatness. Oppenheimer focuses on the denial and excuses people make for their past atrocities, but this was already covered effectively in The Act of Killing. The confrontations end up providing exactly what one would expect: constant denials, lies and anger at the line of questioning from Adi. The Look of Silence definitely packs a lot of power, but it feels more supplementary to Oppenheimer’s brilliant first film.