After the sudden death of a teacher, 55-year-old Algerian immigrant Bachir Lazhar is hired at an elementary school in Montreal. Struggling with a cultural gap between himself and his students at first, he helps them to deal with the situation, revealing his own tragic past. A strong portrait without any weird sentimentality. 11-year-old actress Sophie Nélisse makes her brilliant debut.

Nominated for an Academy Award for best documentary feature. On the day before Hurricane Katrina, a young aspiring rap singer in the 9th Ward turns her new video camera on herself and her neighbors. She keeps shooting as the water rises, neighbors struggle to rescue each other, people panic and flee. Weeks later she returns to her neighborhood and records the death and decay left behind. Raw and real, worth watching.

Vive L’Amour is a slow-building film that dives deep into the loneliness and longing of urban life, weaving together the lives of three lost souls searching for connection and meaning in a bustling city. Though the film’s slow pace and minimal dialogue brilliantly convey the characters’ inner turmoil, there are times when the (probably purposeful) lack of direction doesn’t quite land. You might also find that director Tsai Ming-liang’s evocative cinematography does not hold up this sparse yet bloated plot. Still, Vive L’Amour encapsulates the signature solemn air of Taiwanese cinema, presenting a contemplative exploration of human relationships and urban alienation. It may be polarizing, but one thing is for sure: it will leave you introspective and moved by its profound examination of the human condition.

It might not teach you the basics of cricket but Fire in Babylon uses the sport as an entertaining entry point into the discrimination faced by Caribbean peoples around the 1970s. The footage we see of actual cricket games is kept to the simplest elements, but what ultimately leaves a stronger impression are the lively testimonials from the documentary’s many talking heads, injecting this historical account with a generous amount of personality. From the hip West Indian soundtrack to the unabashed pride that fuels every anecdote, this feels like a film that’s genuinely being told by its characters, and not from an outsider’s point of view.

This taut chamber piece about NSA whistleblower Reality Winner (yes, that’s her real name) is based on the FBI’s account of her interrogation one June day in 2017. “Based on” doesn’t quite capture Reality’s exhaustive commitment to the facts, though, because this movie is essentially a dramatic reading of a verbatim transcript of the FBI agents’ recording that day. The only time it breaks with reality is when it reaches a redacted portion of the transcript, at which point characters glitch out of view, leaving us staring into the blank set around them. Otherwise, every cough, false start, and even every off-topic remark is recreated with exacting precision here, lending the film a paradoxically stilted, slightly stagy air. But rather than pull you out of the proceedings, Reality’s palpable artificiality only immerses us into the uneasy tension and surreality that its anxious protagonist must have been feeling that day.

That anxiety is contagious, thanks to the movie’s clinical style and central performance. The camerawork is largely unblinking, moving in uncomfortably close on Reality (Sydney Sweeney) as two FBI agents (Josh Hamilton and Marchánt Davis) subject her to their bizarre hot-cold interrogation, which ranges from seemingly friendly inquiries about her dog to jugular-aimed questions about the allegations against her. Sweeney shoulders all this pressure remarkably well, deftly keeping us as much in the dark as Winner tried to keep the FBI in — which makes not knowing the real story a benefit, rather than a barrier, to watching Reality.

Outside of Sweeney’s commanding performance, Reality feels somewhat limited by its absolute loyalty to the FBI’s transcript, though. Much of the film’s 83-minute runtime is dedicated to recreating the text, which leaves only a few minutes at the end for it to express its own point of view on Winner’s actions. Though these scant moments make for a compelling reframing of the charges against Winner, they feel overshadowed by and separate from the movie’s rigorous devotion to the transcript, which ultimately means Reality can’t quite transcend its status as merely an interesting filmmaking curio.

Sincere and direct, Ana Rocha de Sousa’s debut feature is a tragic portrayal of an immigrant family in the United Kingdom. Known best abroad for her role in Love Actually, Lúcia Moniz shines as devoted mother Bela, who, along with Jota (Ruben Garcia) struggles to keep their family together. The couple and their three children, including the deaf middle child Lu (Sophia Myles), come under the scrutiny of social services, especially after the unexplained bruises. While at times heavy-handed, the film raises important questions on family separation and social services, especially with their limitations with children with disabilities.

Loosely based on the 1909 novel, Martin Eden is a stunning film about the hollow success of individualism. The plot points remain the same: Eden, a self-taught sailor, wants to win the heart of the wealthy Elena Orsini. To do this, he strives to break into the upper class with his writing. However, in this film, writer-director Pietro Marcello adds another dimension to the anti-individualist story: he transports Eden from his original California setting to Naples—allowing for views of different cultures, languages, and classes. By intercutting between old film stock and lingering close-ups, Marcello draws from his documentary background to masterfully evokes the process of remembering. And in refusing to define the time period, Marcello recognizes that Eden’s struggle is still ongoing today—and that his success is still hollow.

If this South Korean cult favorite relies a little too much on jump scares and twisty plot developments, its relatively emotionally distant story is nevertheless given a welcome boost in character thanks to an impressive overall look and feel. Shadowy and foreboding from beginning to end, A Tale of Two Sisters seems to be designed for group viewings where friends can spook each other out without losing track of the film’s momentum. But it’s far from shallow: patient horror fans should enjoy unpacking the movie’s densely layered character dynamics, which become all the more disturbing and sorrowful after learning all of the film’s secrets.

Even those who aren’t baseball aficionados should find something interesting and human in this straightforward, brainy documentary Fastball looks at the titular type of pitch not just from a place of scientific curiosity but as a symbolic goal that players all over the world chase after. Through many clear-eyed discussions and testimonials, we begin to see how a large part of the sport has been structured around the idea of understanding speed—and how some careers have been made or broken by trying to catch up with the greats. But in the end, Fastball takes a surprisingly subjective position on the matter; instead of definitively stating who’s the fastest on earth, it affirms that everyone has their own legends they look up to, pushing them to be greater.

Albert Maysles’ penultimate film celebrates fashion icon Iris Apfel, who charms everyone with her quick wit, no-nonsense attitude, and love for the craft. There’s something brilliant in the way the movie starts not by rehashing facts about her, but with Apfel herself going through the process of choosing what to wear. She’s doesn’t just pick clothes; there’s a kind of careful consideration made with each item she chooses, that she remembers every detail about (from where she got them, to the culture and history behind them), and that she intentionally picks in the name of joy. While the documentary doesn’t dive too deep into Apfel’s life, the woman is just undeniably cool. Simply going through her processes and listening to her talk is already an inspiration.