At this year’s Sundance International Film Festival, more than half the feature-length movies were made by directors who identify as women.

Jean Renoir's newly restored 1939 classic proves that lawless wealth — then as now — makes a marvelous farce of us all.

The aggressive kineticism of Futurism in Chase-Riboud's sculpture is tempered by a keen appreciation of the erotic and lyrical.

For those up for seriously weird, naughty “cyberdyke” mayhem, this movie will likely disturb and delight.

Capturing an urban ecosystem of animals and humans, Shaunak Sen’s second feature sits somewhere between a nature doc, political drama, and touching family portrait.

Just as sex with a revolutionary does not make one revolutionary, a penchant for setting films in developing countries does not make Denis a resident expert.

The unabashedly feminine oeuvre of the collagist, sculptor, and conceptual artist is a smorgasbord of shimmer and sequin, a bling manifesto for the senses.

With its recent 4k restoration, Daisies endures as a New Wave masterpiece and hyper-feminine smorgasbord of sensory pleasure.

The most fruitfully jarring artistic disruptions at documenta 15 unsettle their own settings, stealthily intervening in traditional German institutions or landmarks.

The engulfing vocal testimony of Miller's audio-visual art speaks to the threat of death faced by people of color in this country.

Assembly Required suggests it is high time to strap on a colorful mask and play with someone you don’t know — or don’t know well enough.

Hanna Bergholm’s stunningly original debut film Hatching embraces the experience of female adolescence as the monster that it is, and then gives that monster literal wings.

Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet’s directorial debut offers a twist of zest to the tired tale of a vivacious young woman pursuing romance with an older man.

Everybody seems to be infatuated with everyone else in the film, locking eyes with an intensity that could shame a tantra guru.

After Yang merges director Kogonada's fastidious attention to form with a rare empathy for the insecurity of the human condition, especially within the nuclear unit.

Laura Wandel’s debut film examines the psychological — and physical — carnage wrought between children when grown-ups look the other way.

Jackson's two-dimensional surfaces lead us into a maze of shapes and visual gestures, yet tease us into recognizing the figures hidden within.

Part of the glory of the film is that its heroine’s choices, however unexpected, are taken seriously.

Rather than celebrate intrepid man capturing, and controlling, the magic of “nature,” the film focuses more on how nature watches us.

This may not be a great film, but its narrative and tonal weaknesses throw into relief just how strong Léa Seydoux is as its thumping heart.

In the films of Mike Mills, sensitive male characters reckon with who they are when who they are doesn’t seem to measure up.

What’s more natural, the film seems to ask — the “body parts” under the hood of a car or those pulsing beneath a woman’s navel?

Lynne Ramsay’s 1999 debut film is arguably one of the masterpieces of 20th-century depictions of childhood poverty.

In this film about stardom, the viewer has nowhere to appreciate and connect with the characters and concepts.

Todd Stephens’s new film is a celebration of willful, collective flamboyance that flourishes within small cities.

Binoche plays a woman who is ultimately accountable for herself and doesn’t pretend to be any better than she is.

It remains to be seen whether future critics will see the film as contrarian triumph or empty provocation.

Director Pablo Larraín doesn’t trust his own filmographic brilliance, and lets the story take over in the end.

Wilke’s joyful effusions were a reminder of the limitlessness of the body’s creative potential.

The Self Maintenance Resource Center is a living archive of personal, creative, and intellectual inspiration for artists.

Ena Sendijarević’s debut feature, Take Me Somewhere Nice, follows a young Bosnian refugee as she sets off to visit a native country she no longer knows.

The exhibition “Keith Haring: Radiant Gambit” presents a more complicated — and certainly more interesting — take on an artist best known for his zippy visuals.

Gunda and Stray reveal how difficult it is not to romanticize the lives of other animals.

Darius Marder’s Oscar-nominated film is less about the Deaf community than about the process of losing a sense inextricably tied to one’s identity.

Pedro Almodóvar’s first English-language film, The Human Voice, offers heady pathos and sumptuous visuals in equal excess.

"Test Pattern" chronicles a biracial courtship and coupledom as a means of probing larger power asymmetries.

In the late 1970s and early ’80s, women office workers banded together in a labor movement that sprouted up in 25 cities across the country.

Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Time and My Little Sister are complicated films about complicated people.

What begins as a trenchant exploration of losing a child becomes a Lifetime-esque affair that strays so sharply from a mother’s grief that it feels a bit like a betrayal.

Ammonite tells a 19th-century love story that prompts less a tingle through the loins than a chill down the spine.

In Wojnarowicz's work, as in his life, testing the limits of artistic categories and systemic and institutional power was central to his impassioned vision.

Director Charlie Kaufman’s men leech off women for validation, while women attempt to escape their parasitic grip.

Three recent French dramedies boast their own individual je ne sais quoi, less in spite than because of their wacky storylines.

Relic delves into a darkness beyond filial caregiving, approaching the mother figure as the first, and last, monster, her house a veritable womb for distinctly female trauma.

In her photographs, Katherine Simóne Reynolds suggests that vulnerability is vital to a full sense of self, but it is a luxury that Black women across age and background are perpetually denied.

For any American even mildly ignorant of the rich, complex legacy of Civil Rights within our decidedly disunited country, Dawn Porter's John Lewis: Good Trouble should be mandatory viewing.

Across Josephine Decker's work and in her new film about Shirley Jackson, Decker wants us to ask what right she, or anyone, has to make another’s story her own.

The Disappearance of My Mother honors the staunch conviction and introversion of Benedetta Barzini, who shunned Warhol celebrity for political solidarity, and in her later years, Spartan solitude.

With her devotion to cats and heart-shaped everything, Varda personified adorably unconventional thinking — without apology or apparent self-consciousness.

Hujar wrote that his portrait subjects were “those who push themselves to any extreme” and those who “cling to the freedom to be themselves.”