Nadav Lapid’s newest feature offers a deeply intimate and personal look at how identity and language interact and interweave.

The Safdie Brothers make films driven by the ego—I mean that in the psychoanalytic sense mostly, though one detects a bit of the word’s more colloquial definition in their new film Uncut Gems. More on that later, perhaps; for now, Freud. The protagonists of Heaven Knows What, Good Time, and now Uncut Gems are perpetually...

The characters in Burning, director Lee Chang-dong’s newest film, exist apart from one another. Even in scenes together they appear to inhabit separate layers of the frame; it’s like they’re superimposed upon one another to create the illusion of proximity while they remain irrevocably isolated.

Private Life is a heartwarming, at times heartbreaking, work that succeeds in uniting stereotypes, tropes, and genres to remind viewers of the power in “dramedy.”

Nevertheless, there is enormous power in Cuarón’s decision to frame an epic-scale narrative about Mexico in transition around an indigenous woman; one who speaks in her native mixteca as well as Spanish, who enacts a coveted cinematic role as central voyeur, who brings the viewer into each of many worlds in collision.

The beauty of this documentary lies in its ability to forefront Cunningham’s impression of himself without pandering to the audience, hungry for anecdotes to establish a sense of closeness to Cunningham—a reluctant celebrity whose work hinges on his ability to disappear into the sidewalk.

The textiles, each unique and colorful individually, combine to form a cohesive body of art that seems to transcend borders.

In considering The Other Side of the Wind as Orson Welles’s final statement, one must come to terms with the fact that it is no longer really his film.

By the time the film draws to a close, Honoré’s made sure we’ve seen it all: plenty of mourning, sex, and smoking on picturesque Parisian bridges.