Eden (2025)

Direction: Ron Howard
Country: USA

Eden, a survival thriller based on a true story and directed by Ron Howard (A Beautiful Mind, 2001; Frost/Nixon, 2008), boasts an impressive ensemble cast that includes Jude Law, Sydney Sweeney, Vanessa Kirby, Ana de Armas, and Daniel Brühl. But even with that star power drawing audiences to theaters, they’re unlikely to leave fully satisfied. 

The scrip by Noah Pink explores rising tensions among early European settlers on Floreana Island in the Galápagos. The year is 1929. Reclusive Dr. Friederich Ritter (Law), a semi-renowned German philosopher, and his wife Dora (Kirby), who suffers from multiple sclerosis, savor their isolated life. Ritter is busy crafting a new philosophy he believes will save humanity from itself. Their solitude is soon disrupted by the arrival of the Wittmers (Brühl and Sweeney), followed by the flamboyant and deceitful French baroness Eloise von Wagner-Bousquet (de Armas, in her most irritating role yet) and her two companions. Her dream? To build a luxury hotel for millionaires on the island.

Howard’s unwieldy, cynical screen adaptation is over-staged and draped in noir tones. It’s a little too uneven to match the heights of the director's best work. Although watchable, the film veers into ludicrousness, culminating in spiraling chaos and a burst of physical and psychological violence. With a dark, overarching theme, this propulsive if shapeless tale feels as much flaccid as it is unfocused. Eden is such a mixed bag.

Pavements (2025)

Direction: Alex Ross Perry
Country: USA

The greatness of the American indie rock band Pavement is not matched by this fragmented, experimental docufiction written, co-produced, and directed by Alex Ross Perry. The director of Queen of Earth (2015) and Her Smell (2018) opts for an uninspired artistic approach, where actors portray the musicians, a group of performers rehearse and stage a musical set to Pavement’s songs, and a museum tribute to the band catches everyone—including the band members—off guard.

Briskly edited, the film plays like a disjointed collage that is more tedious than exiting. The actual story of the band is entirely eclipsed by these misguided artistic ambitions. The only aspect that offered a hint of interest was the contrast between the irreverence of youth and the band’s more cerebral, detached presence today. There’s an overuse of split screens, overlapping sounds, chaotic movements… 

Sadly, Pavements fails to do justice to Stephen Malkmus and his unforgettable band.

Santosh (2025)

Direction: Sandhya Suri
Country: India

Following two documentaries (I For India, 2005; Around India With a Movie Camera, 2018), British-Indian writer-director Sandhya Suri delivers a terrifying portrait of contemporary India in her fictional feature debut, Santosh. The film, grounded in stark realism, begins as a poignant social drama before evolving into a gripping political thriller.

The story follows Santosh Saini (Shahana Goswami), a 28-year-old widow who assumes her late husband's position in the police under the government’s “compassionate appointment” scheme.Her first assignment is to investigate the rape and murder of a 15-year-old Dalit girl, under the supervision of the tough, cynical, and feminist Inspector Geeta Sharma (Sunita Rajwar), a staunch enforcer who condones police brutality.

As a work of urgent conviction, Santosh embraces deliberate neo-noir tones, and is heavy on atmosphere and unhurried in its development. The main character initially jubilates with her desire for freedom, only to confront the deeply embedded social ills of modern India: a rigid caste system, the demonization of Muslims, femicide, systemic corruption, and toxic patriarchy.

Suri opts for restrained emotional expression, emphasizing careful staging and precise framing to reinforce each dramatic intention. Goswami and Rajwar deliver immaculate performances, exploring the gray zones of human nature and the moral complexity faced when confronting brutal injustices. It’s impossible to deny that Santosh is thoroughly good, offering an unsettling but imperative viewing.

The Life of Chuck (2025)

Direction: Mike Flanagan
Country: USA 

Adapted from a Stephen King’s short story, Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck shows a genuine interest in its profound themes, emerging as a funny, uncynical, and humanist apocalyptic comedy-drama with a beautiful message. The film is divided into three parts, each exploring a different period in Chuck's life, with distinct aesthetics, tone, and aspect ratio. Told in reverse order, the story is structurally triumphant, channeling Jordan Peele, Damien Chazelle, and Frank Capra, as the initial apocalyptic section gives way to a jubilant five-minute dance scene followed by a moving coming-of-age drama.

Tom Hiddleston (Archipelago, 2010; Thor: Ragnarok, 2017) stands out from the cast, delivering a magnetic performance full of charisma, while Flanagan handles it all in a disarmingly compelling way. With tact, tenderness, and a contagious sense of rhythm, The Life of Chuck has that rare ability to root itself in the viewer’s mind, gracefully alternating between levity and emotional weight, and embracing the importance—and power—of living life to its fullest.

Despite some classicism in the staging, the film never weakens because the story is truly special. It’s a lusciously gentle journey through a life of a common man, evoking familiar tones while offering its own distinctive touch.

Thunderbolts (2025)

Direction: Jake Schreier
Country: USA

Thunderbolts*, the 36th installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, assembles a group of disillusioned misfits—most of them tired of cleanup duty. Among them are Yelena Belova, her father Alexei Shostakov (Red Guardian), John Walker (Steve Rogers’ controversial successor as Captain America), Ava Starr (Ghost), Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier), and the fragile, amnesiac Bob Reynolds, who unexpectedly emerges as a serious threat. Together, they must navigate the hidden agenda of CIA Director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus, reprising her role from Black Widow and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever), whose office is now under scrutiny.

Directed by Jake Schreier (Robot & Frank, 2015), the film offers its strong cast opportunities to shine. However, the script—penned by Marvel regular Eric Pearson (Thor: Ragnarok, 2017; Black Widow, 2021) and Joanna Calo (The Bear)—lacks imaginative spark. This is a different kind of Marvel entry, clearly aimed at attracting a fresh audience. The result is an imperfect yet visually and tonally consistent work—where not everything is fixed, but everything feels slightly patched up. Is it fun? Yeah, sort of. But still not especially memorable.

F1: The Movie (2025)

Direction: Joseph Kosinski
Country: USA 

Directed by Joseph Kosinski (Oblivion, 2013; Top Gun: Maverick, 2022) from a screenplay by Ehren Kruger, and co-produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, British F1 pilot Lewis Hamilton, and Brad Pitt—who stars as fictional pilot Sonny Hayes—F1: The Movie blends thrilling races, bland romance, overdramatic celebrations, and crooked deals. 

There’s nothing particularly new or noteworthy in this ultra-formulaic car action flick that goes nowhere fast. We follow fearless yet reckless veteran driver Sonny Hayes (Pitt), a gambling addict, as he joins a nearly bankrupt team at the invitation of owner and former teammate Ruben Cervantes (Javier Bardem). Sonny quickly challenges everyone—“Who’s fighting? I’m racing!”—including his new teammate, the prodigiously talented rookie Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris), who becomes his chief rival.

While some racing scenes do deliver the adrenaline, the narrative rarely hits top gear, as the script struggles to make its dramatic beats land. This monstrous commercial blockbuster has a vigorous start, ultimately running out of gas and disintegrating into uneven pieces. The soundtrack by Hans Zimmer—a combination of classical and electronic elements—didn’t convince, contributing to the film’s general stodginess.

April (2025)

Direction: Dea Kulumbegashvili
Country: Georgia 

Produced by Luca Guadagnino (Call me By Your Name, 2017) and directed by Dea Kulumbegashvili (Beginning, 2020), who strives to go beyond the simple exposition of a controversial topic, April denounces patriarchal abuses in the Georgian countryside through long shots and anguished tones. 

The plot follows Nina (Ia Sukhitashvili), an experienced obstetrician accused of performing illegal abortions in the village. Solitary, she does what she must, sometimes becoming a stranger to herself. Responsibility clashes with the law in a quiet and lugubrious character study, where sinister realities can morph into quirky surrealism. This is a tough cookie of a film—visually jarring and emotionally despondent, as if Christian Mungiu had joined forces with Carlos Reygadas in ambiguous gestures filled with raw authenticity and layered metaphor. 

Substance prevails over form in a film where unspoken fear, rage, and alienation permeate the oppressive cinematic space. At times, it’s almost too uncomfortable to endure, with brutality and fragility in constant confrontation, making for a slow-paced experience that, while laudable in intention, often feels overwhelmingly static. 

One of the oddest films I’ve seen lately, April wasn’t a pleasant experience for me, but I do understand its point. I tolerated its radical, open-to-question aesthetics to learn more about the rebelliousness and inner decay of its main character. A shame that its art-house tactics tarnish much of the story’s emotional impact.

Wild Diamond (2025)

Direction: Agathe Riedinger
Country: France 

Wild Diamond tells the story of Liane Pougy, a relentless 19-year-old influencer who dreams of joining a reality TV show at any cost. This character had already taken centre stage in director Agathe Riedinger’s 2017 short film J’Attends Jupiter. Now, Riedinger makes her directorial feature debut with a bold foray into the world of fame and social media—offering a sharp reflection of our times.

Liane (Malou Khebizi) lives in Fréjus, a French city that evokes both hedonistic leisure and the grit of English working-class towns. At home, she’s stuck with an emotionally distant mother—who regularly brings sugar daddies home—and a tender younger sister. She prays to Saint Joseph and considers buttock augmentation, clinging to an artificial glitter while impatiently chasing easy fame. Her growing despair drives her to take dangerous risks.

Khebizi is the true diamond of the film in a quite impressive first appearance on the big screen. Trapped between a glossy fantasy and a bleak reality, Liane is a portrait of someone whose biggest aspirations become the very obstacles to her happiness. Riedinger shoots in a confrontational, intimate style, using a 4:3 aspect ratio to heighten the rawness of the characters and setting. Yet, the film occasionally stumbles, with minor plot stagnation and a couple of distracting and ineffective on-screen texts.

By the end, it feels like we’ve only skimmed the surface—but Wild Diamond still hits a very specific bullseye. How it affects you will almost certainly depend on your current relationship with social media and reality television. Flaws aside, this is a film worth wrestling with—brimming with electricity, as if told through the fingertips.

The Shrouds (2025)

Direction: David Cronenberg
Country: USA 

David Cronenberg wrote The Shrouds in response to the death of his wife in 2017. Despite this deeply personal origin, the film’s uninspired delirium begins with a promisingly tense atmosphere only to unravel into something muddled and ultimately hollow. The Canadian filmmaker returns to his signature obsessions—mutilation fused with macabre romanticism, fixation on death and the body, espionage, and futuristic technology. eXistenZ (1999) and Crash (1996) naturally come to mind, yet this time the concoction feels undercooked, lacking soul, coherence, and genuine emotional weight.

The plot follows an inconsolable corpse voyeur (Vincent Cassel, in his third collaboration with Cronenberg) who harbors a disturbing fascination with his late wife’s body and cemeteries. However, the story quickly gets bogged down in contrived, exhausting dialogue and stilted staging. Delivered at a glacial pace, the bland narrative nearly lulled me to sleep. Adding to the confusion is the film’s tech subplot, clouded by mysterious hackers and vague conspiracy theories involving Chinese and Russian corporations.

Whatever suspense the film tries to build evaporates almost instantly. What a futile and misguided movie this is! - certainly one of Cronenberg’s biggest flops to date. At 82, one has to wonder if Cronenberg has lost his touch—both in direction and in his ability to truly engage the viewer, as mortuary enigma mutates into incoherent drivel.

28 Years Later (2025)

Direction: Danny Boyle
Country: UK 

If you’re into post-apocalyptic chaos, then 28 Years Later may be a visceral treat for you. Director Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, 1996; 28 Days Later, 2002; Slumdog Millionaire, 2008) and screenwriter Alex Garland (Ex-Machina, 2014; Civil War, 2024) reunite for the conclusion of a trilogy—and the launch of a new one. Several sequences were shot on the iPhone 15 Pro Max, with Anthony Dod Mantle’s stunning cinematography playing a crucial role in the film’s visual magnetism.

A community of survivors has taken refuge on a small island, accessible to the mainland only via a treacherous road. Twelve-year-old Spike (Alfie Williams) ventures to the mainland for the first time with his father, Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), to learn how to kill the infected and survive on his own. Along the way, he discovers the existence of Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), the only person who may be able to save his ailing mother (Jodie Comer).

Delivered with breathless pacing and indomitable energy, 28 Years Later veers from rage to reflection without ever slipping into monotony. The infected fade into the background, with the story focusing more intently on the emotional complexities of family and the fragile relationships among the uninfected. This made me want to go along unquestioningly. Vicious yet full of heart and humanity, the film ultimately becomes a celebration of life.

Boyle approaches the material with offbeat flair, making this installment tonally distinct from its predecessors. If you’re going to revisit a dusty premise, you’d better be inventive—and both Boyle and Garland rise to the challenge. The result is a bloody, wildly entertaining odyssey brimming with risks and perils. Nia DaCosta (Little Woods, 2018; Candyman, 2021) is set to direct 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, scheduled for release in January 2026.

Materialists (2025)

Direction: Celine Song
Country: USA

Materialists, the sophomore feature from Canadian helmer Celine Song, is a romantic excursion where love can be negotiated like a business deal. Not as irresistible as Song’s debut Past Lives (2023) and perhaps a bit too safe in its proceedings, Materialists is nonetheless rich in, character, dilemmas, and conflicts that spark debate about life’s priorities. Its message feels particularly timely.

The plot centers on Lucy (Dakota Johnson), a young, charming, and successful New York matchmaker who finds herself entangled in a love triangle. A serious incident involving one of her elite clients deeply affects her, forcing a drastic shift in her life. Her suitors, Harry (Pedro Pascal) and John (Chris Evans), represent two opposing paths—wealth and comfort versus love and sacrifice.

Shot in 35mm, Materialists may lose some momentum toward the ending, but remains a finely crafted piece well worth seeking out. We’ve seen films like this before, but rarely have they looked or felt quite like this. Song, a thoughtful filmmaker with meaningful insights on relationships—past and present—ticks off every box on the film’s agenda and wraps it up with a big smile. This is not a backward step for the director, who portrays a transactional dating ecosystem with both realism and cleverness.

Bring Her Back (2025)

Direction: Danny and Michael Philippou
Country: Australia

The Philippou Brothers, who stirred up some frisson with their debut Talk To Me (2022), strike again with Bring Her Back, finding further creepiness in morbid rituals and macabre video recordings. The story, co-written by Danny and Bill Hinzman, follows orphaned step-siblings Andy (Billy Barratt) and visually impaired Piper (first-timer Sora Wong). They are placed in foster care under the supervision of Laura (Sally Hawkins), a grief-stricken former counselor who becomes dangerously unhinged. She also cares for Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a sinister mute child insensible to pain.

More creepy than outright scary, Bring Her Back possesses a fierce brutality and visceral desperation that kept me watching. The Philippous have a gift for crafting atmospherics, establishing a sustained mood of uneasiness. They don’t shy away from the rough stuff, striving to bring extra layers to the genre, though leaving viewers emotionally drained in the process.

Hawkins, forever remembered for Mike Leigh’s comedy Happy-Go-Lucky (2008) and Del Toro’s fantasy The Shape of Water (2017), delivers a terrific first foray into horror. She even performs her own stunts here. Bring Her Back will probably stick in your gut for a little while, and don't be surprised if you walk away feeling hollow inside. This aggressively ferocious horror flick pushes cruelty to the edge, and is certainly not for the faint of heart.

The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

Direction: Wes Anderson
Country: USA

In his latest feature, The Phoenician Scheme, Wes Anderson takes aim at capitalism without morals, blending slapstick and absurdism in a live-action espionage comedy suffused with sumptuous visuals and imaginative scenarios marked by his signature symmetry. Co-written with Roman Copolla and dedicated to his father-in-law, Lebanese businessman Faoud Malouf, the film was primarily shot at Babelsberg, the world's oldest film studio, and boasts an impressive cast led by Benicio Del Toro, Kate Winslet’s daughter Mia Threapleton, and Michael Cera. 

Zsa-Zsa Korda (Del Toro), a cunning, wealthy industrialist, has survived multiple plane crashes and assassination attempts. Wanted for fraud, he is a man of countless schemes and grand projects for the Phoenicia region. He designates his daughter Liesl (Threapleton), a 21-year-old nun, as the sole heir to his empire.

The story zigzags between relentless assassins—all former employees of Korda—infiltrators, double agents, betrayals, revolutionary guerrilla robberies, mysterious shoeboxes, and a hilariously odd basketball competition. The dialogues are surprisingly witty, and Anderson’s cinematic universe is stylized to reflect his unique whims. The Phoenician Scheme may not fully achieve the greatness it aspires to, but it offers a relentlessly stylish parade of comic characters—certainly a more charming, funny, and captivating experience than Anderson’s previous dull feature Asteroid City (2023). At least here, I remained invested in the characters, in a film propelled by an atypical rhythm and enlivened by an unapologetic “cartoon” sensibility. 

Framed by fragmented twists, it doesn’t always land both narratively and comically, but its flashes of darkness bring a welcome novelty to a burlesque depiction of society that questions our times with explosiveness and wild madness.

A Traveler's Needs (2024)

Direction: Hong Sang-soo
Country: South Korea

In A Traveler’s Needs, another peculiar drama by Korean filmmaker Hong Sang-soo, a solitary French woman—aptly portrayed by Isabelle Huppert—teaches French in Seoul using unconventional methods, while her unknown past remains a mystery. Although she shows interest in her students’ feelings and emotions, she maintains an insouciant attitude, drinking makgeolli—a fermented rice alcoholic beverage—throughout the day. Frequently bored, her behavior is often perplexing as we try to decipher her motives.

This fleeting fable carries a certain poetic quality and an insinuating sense of adventure, but gradually loses momentum, becoming increasingly formulaic. It’s a fascinating cross-cultural experiment that eventually runs itself into the ground, recycling Sang-soo’s familiar patterns of conversational interaction. 

Huppert and Sang-soo’s third collaboration—following In Another Country (2012) and Claire’s Camera (2017)—is the weakest of the trio, an occasionally charming yet underdeveloped ode to friendship that meanders without clear direction. In truth, A Traveler’s Needs feels like an acting exercise stretched to feature length, with the multi-faceted Sang-soo handling direction, screenplay, cinematography, production, editing, and score.

Motel Destino (2024)

Direction: Karim Ainouz
Country: Brazil 

After experiencing Hollywood last year with the period drama Firebrand, filmmaker Karim Ainouz (Madame Satã, 2002; Invisible Life, 2019) returns to Brazil to helm Motel Destino, a mundane and sexually-charged neo-noir thriller that plays like a haunting phantasmagoria. While the script itself lacks depth, the film benefits from its sensory overload, visual experimentation, and a Coen Brothers-inspired score that evokes sinister western landscapes. 

Living in Ceará, Heraldo (Iago Xavier) plans to move to São Paulo but must first complete one last job for drug kingpin and local artist Bambina (Fabíola Líper). When things spiral out of control, he takes refuge in a seedy sex motel, aided by its owners: the restless Dayana (Nataly Rocha) and her volatile, voyeuristic husband, Elias (Fábio Assunção). 

There’s no pretentiousness or ego in the trio’s performances, and enough tension sustains interest until the film’s ultimately disappointing ending. Motel Destino is a vicious piece of work from a director unafraid to expose the primal, darker instincts of his characters. Unfortunately, this stylized erotic thriller is undermined by clumsy dialogue and a hastily executed conclusion. It offers a shallow cinematic experience that may not leave you breathless, but its darkness lingers like cement, and the tension between its sleazy content and neon-lit aesthetics is precisely where its power resides.

When Fall is Coming (2025)

Direction: François Ozon
Country: France 

With the eclectic French filmmaker François Ozon at the helm, you never know which kind of film you're going to get. When Fall is Coming is a drama of atypical heroines that never follows predictable paths. Set mostly in Burgundy, in the French countryside, the story slowly distills its charms and poisons, exploring the thin line between good and evil.

This seemingly good-natured drama, imbued with scenes of commiseration, guilt, and relief, thrives on doubt and ambiguity, heightened by Ozon’s refusal to over-explain. The audience is invited to embrace uncertainty and draw their own conclusions. The understated mystery recalls Chabrol, with the academic form and classic staging perfectly suiting the film’s slightly opaque narrative. 

81-year-old actress Hélène Vincent, who was phenomenal in Brizé’s A Few Hours of Spring (2012), delivers a remarkable performance as Michelle Giraud—a devoted grandmother and former prostitute—capturing brief seconds of mental absence and confusion with striking precision. Ozon reunites with her and Josiane Balasko, who plays her best friend, seven years after By The Grace of God. More notably, he works again with Ludivine Sagnier—portraying Michelle’s depressed daughter—22 years after launching her career with Swimming Pool. Another successful reunion is with cinematographer Jérôme Alméras, Ozon’s collaborator on the 2012 drama-mystery In the House. 

When Fall is Coming unfolds in a familiar slow-burn fashion, but it’s a deeply satisfying watch. A film of small moments and subtle gestures, where performances radiate warmth and pain, gradually defining the characters. Following the playful extravagance of The Crime is Mine (2023), Ozon closely observes human behavior and emotions with profound quietude.

Bonjour Tristesse (2025)

Direction: Durga Chew-Bose
Country: France

This particularly unmemorable adaptation of Françoise Sagan’s 1954 novel Bonjour Tristesse fails to capture the soul of the story and lacks genuine drama. First-time director Durga Chew-Bose aims for subtlety, relying heavily on facial expressions and unspoken feelings, but the result often feels like a repetitive exercise rather than meaningful storytelling. The film manages to spark some minimal intrigue in its first half, only to lose momentum and control before collapsing into complete banality.

This chamber drama, steeped in calculated machinations and guilt, follows the manipulative 17-year-old Cécile (Lily McInerny), who enjoys a carefree summer at a French Riviera villa with her emotionally detached father, Raymond (Claes Bang), and his laid-back girlfriend, Elsa (Naïlia Harzoune). The arrival of fashion designer Anne Larsson (Chloë Sevigny), an old family friend, disrupts Cécile’s fragile summer equilibrium.

Bonjour Tristesse ends up as an irredeemably bland, formulaic coming-of-age drama that seldom rises above the absurdity of its own plot twists. The characters lack dimension—becoming increasingly grating—the dialogue remains superficial, and the performances feel awkward rather than authentic. This couldn’t be a more generic and uninspired entry into the genre. An empty summer reverie.

Holy Cow (2025)

Direction: Louise Courvoisier
Country: France 

Louise Courvoisier's feature debut, Holy Cow, is a sensitive coming of age tale set in Jura, a department in the Bourgogne-Franche-Comté region. Eighteen-year-old Totone (Clément Faveau) prefers hanging out and drinking with friends over helping his father on their cheese farm. But misfortune forces him to radically change his life. He finds solace in Marie-Lise (Maiwene Barthelemy), his first love, and in a newfound obsession: making the region’s best cheese.

The beauty of Holy Cow lies in its details as much as in the simplicity of its story, populated by genuine, believable characters. The nuanced performances from non-professional actors, the evocative use of location, and the sensitive script by Courvoisier and Théo Abadie elevates the film above many others in the genre.

The film’s humble nature and the setbacks faced by the protagonist never undercut its uplifting sense of satisfaction or its quiet celebration of romance and self-discovery. What’s perhaps most remarkable about Holy Cow is that it actually works in a quiet, unfussy way. There’s an honest emotional core in Courvoisier’s depiction of a teenager coming to terms with responsibility, morality, and friendship.

Viet and Nam (2025)

Direction: Minh Quy Truong
Country: Vietnam

Set in rural Vietnam in the year 2000, this malancholic and bucolic romantic drama is drenched in intermittent heavy rain, contemplating more than it discovers. Viet and Nam are two coal miners and lovers who dream of a different life abroad. Meanwhile, Nam’s mother obsessively searches for the remains of her husband, a casualty of the war, eventually crossing paths with a medium from the North.

Served by striking camerawork, Minh Quy Truong's second feature unfolds as a slow, profound excavation of a country’s lingering war wounds. Though ghostly and dreamlike, it weaves together queer romance, working-class struggle, historical trauma, grief, and spiritual longing. 

The film embraces a poetic, meditative style, with enigmatic flourishes and an eerie tranquility drawn from its rural landscapes. Its fluid sense of time and space recalls Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s cinema, albeit with a more grounded, objective gaze. The cast—composed of non-professional actors—delivers authentic, unembellished performances.

The film’s languid pacing and long, static 16mm shots may stretch its runtime, but Truong clearly trusts in the power of cinema and the viewer’s patience. Viet and Nam is a respectable film that can be moving in its infinite delicacy and quivering sensitivity—even if it doesn't entirely avoid the familiar traits of contemplative art-house cinema.

The Most Precious of Cargoes (2024)

Direction: Michel Hazanavicius
Country: France

From Michel Hazanavicius—the director of The Artist (2011)—The Most Precious of Cargoes marks his first animated feature, adapted from a novel by French playwright and author Jean-Claude Grumberg. The story centers on a poor woodcutter and his wife who, unable to have children, are unexpectedly blessed with a Jewish baby thrown from a moving train bound for Auschwitz. Narrated by the late Jean-Louis Trintignant—who passed away in 2022—the film is steeped in rural isolation, irrational beliefs, and the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust, a hauntingly fertile ground for such a tale. Though animated, this is not an easy watch—nor should it be. It serves as a quiet, poignant resistance to the gradual and inevitable fading of our collective memory.

Hazanavicius, whose roots lie in an Eastern European Jewish family, crafts a postmodern fairy tale with simplicity and effectiveness, evoking deep emotion through acts of kindness and humanity. Even with modest dialogues, he generates a great deal of drama with a fierce kind of courage. This is reinforced by Alexandre Desplat’s oversentimental score.