The Girl in the Snow
One of the great discoveries I made at CIFF ten years ago was the talent of young Galatéa Bellugi. As a pregnant teen in the coming of age gem “Keeper” (no relation to Osgood Perkins’ upcoming thriller of the same name), Bellugi’s astonishing performance was one of the key reasons why the film earned a place on my best of the year list. This year, Bellugi returned to the festival in Louise Hémon’s unsettling French drama about a schoolteacher attempting to bring enlightenment to a remote village in the mountains. The unrelenting cruelty she endures from the locals eventually tested my patience, but Bellugi once again affirms what a mesmerizing presence she is onscreen, particularly as her repressed character starts to explore her sexuality, a wholly natural act that, to the villagers, proves to be one sin too many.
The Testament of Ann Lee
The only major gripe I have about Mona Fastvold’s one-of-a-kind screen musical is that it feels like it should be just as long as “The Brutalist,” last year’s Oscar-winning masterwork that she co-wrote with her husband, the film’s director, Brady Corbet. Fastvold’s equally audacious directorial effort, which she co-wrote with Corbet, stars Amanda Seyfried as the titular Shaker Movement founder, whose belief in gender equality fueled her radical ideology. During the post-film Q&A, the director spoke movingly about how Lee, despite her flaws, serves as a beacon of hope amidst these dark times. The film boasts great performances from Seyfried and its ensemble led by Thomasin McKenzie, who is tasked with delivering the wall-to-wall narration that seems to be bridging the gaps left by sizable cuts in the running time. I’d have gladly watched four hours of this marvel, with its stunning choreography and evocative imagery practically demanding to be seen in 70mm.
It Was Just an Accident
Like last year’s “The Seed of the Sacred Fig,” Iranian auteur Jafar Panahi’s Palme d’Or winner is an act of courage in its very existence. After serving multiple prison sentences for speaking out against his country’s oppressive regime, Panahi somehow managed to film this immensely provocative thriller without receiving permission from his government. It subverts our expectations from the opening scene where a man accidentally runs over a dog in the dark of night. This causes our sympathies to instantly go out to him, so when a rather uncharismatic sad sack suddenly knocks him out and tries to bury him, we are appalled—until we gradually learn of the history between these two men. The film becomes more and more riveting with every successive scene, leading to a final shot that I doubt I will ever be able to shake.
The Voice of Hind Rajab
Of all the films screening at this year’s festival, few are as sorely deserving of U.S. distribution as this shattering humanist work by Kaouther Ben Hania. It received an unprecedented 23-minute standing ovation upon its premiere at Venice, but since it dares to put a human face on the U.S.-backed atrocities in Palestine, our nation’s studios apparently have been too timid to acquire it, despite the support of producers like Brad Pitt and Joaquin Phoenix. Filmed with a documentary-style immediacy reminiscent of “United 93,” Hania’s film follows the transcripts and uses the actual audio recordings from an event that occurred in January 2024, as volunteers at a call center struggle to save a six-year-old girl stuck in a car that is under fire by the Israeli military. It’s difficult to recall the last time I heard this much audible weeping from my fellow moviegoers in a theater. This may not be an easy film to watch, but for all Americans—especially those who have become numb to the horrific headlines from abroad—it is essential viewing.
The Plague
I’ll never forget the day in junior high when one of my ostracized peers sat down for lunch and the bench broke beneath him, causing the entire cafeteria—including a few unfeeling adults—to roar with laughter. I remember joining in the guffaws, not knowing what had happened, until the ugly reality set in. What I remember most vividly is how the kid looked around him, likely thinking, ‘I don’t have a friend in this room.’ Memories like these are what will be surging to the forefront of your mind while watching Charlie Polinger’s masterful debut feature, which instantly earns its place alongside the greatest coming of age films—“Let the Right One In,” “Water Lilies,” “Wet Bum”—that indelibly utilize a swimming pool as one of its key locations. On the heels of his uproarious breakout performance in the criminally under-seen “Griffin in Summer,” Everett Blunck cements his status here as one of the leading talents of his generation. He plays a sensitive boy who wants to fit in with his peer group, yet is drawn towards the kid whose skin condition has led them to brand him as the butt of their jokes. By turns funny and harrowing—while never being less than unflinching in its portrayal of adolescence’s eternal hellishness—this film is, for lack of a better term, my jam.
Sound of Falling
“Dreamlike” doesn’t even begin to describe what director/co-writer Mascha Schilinski manages to pull off in this galvanizing two-and-a-half hour acid trip. In a way, it’s the most immersive haunted house film I’ve ever seen, as Schilinksi leaps between the different generations that have occupied the same farm house in Germany, allowing the full context of their stories to gradually unfold. The juxtaposed storylines echo one another in intriguing ways, such as the repeated utterance of the word, “Warm,” and the sound design does indeed make one feel as if they are hurtling through time and space. It’s the sort of picture that demands to be seen more than once before a worthy analysis can be written, but there’s no question that it is as visionary an achievement as another of 2025’s best films, Dea Kulumbegashvili’s “April.” When I found out there would be no Q&A after this screening, I exclaimed, “Damn—I have so much to ask!”
Criterion Mobile Closet
For three consecutive days, the Criterion Collection team graced Chicago with their presence, inviting film buffs to enter the mobile version of their famous closet, where many of cinema’s greatest artists have made their personal viewing recommendations on the company’s addictive YouTube channel. After a four-hour wait last Saturday, I entered the hallowed ground along with two of Cinema Femme’s cherished writers, Peyton Robinson and Emily Jacobsen. We could each pick up to three titles, which were all priced at 40% off, and I had no problem finding a trio of titles worth purchasing: Akira Kurosawa’s inimitable “High and Low,” Rob Reiner’s side-splitting “This is Spinal Tap,” and Lizzie Borden’s electrifying “Born in Flames” (a favorite of my wife, Cinema Femme founder Rebecca Martin). The following day, it was lovely to see Criterion president Peter Becker out in the rain, speaking at length with the fans spending hours in line, and sharing touching stories, such as the one about a guy who drove six hours to the mobile closet so he could propose to his girlfriend. Thank you Criterion for being one of the world’s most invaluable champions of my favorite art form.
More CIFF 2025 coverage coming soon!
