Glenn Heath Jr.

A true marvel of a movie, it’s equally enthralled by wind in the trees and a momentary pause in a conversation, patiently waiting for us to discover its calming power.

When split in half, the title of Pushpendra Singh’s riveting character study represents competing forces of assimilation and freedom, patriarchy and artistic expression.

Traditions don’t disappear overnight. They slip away slowly over decades, as elders die off and younger generations experience shifts in priority, social norms, and cultural pride. Few films have been able to capture this kind of ebb and flow like Achal Mishra’s Gamak Ghar, a quietly beautiful drama primarily set in the rural compound where one Indian clan gathers for major life events.

Chess of the Wind is a shining example of how familiar genres and tones can meld together to form something that feels brand new.

This mammoth final effort by Ôbayashi, an artist who so often destroyed the conventional boundaries of cinematic space in works like 1977’s Hausu, is a completely humbling viewing experience.

Clunky and cranky in the most charming of ways, the film always moves in sync with its 91-year-old star, lingering on moments of solitude for long periods while brushing past more traditional plot points with ease.

The Works and Days is by no means an easy thing to endure, but doing so brings you closer to understanding what it might mean to finally be at peace.

When Papushado’s film finds the right tonal balance, meshing noir bleakness with pops of art deco color, there are fireworks to behold.

Enough coincidence and happenstance exists in this film to fill a dozen studio love stories, but that doesn’t mean any of it is unearned. There’s no safety net here, making Tsuji and Ukiyo’s epic tale of unrequited love, absence, and yearning the ultimate leap of faith.

For those curious and willing, this is a beautiful reminder of what it’s like to be properly throttled by an unexpected cinematic jolt.