40 Best Movies On Mubi Right Now

When vampires choose not to kill a human, it’s usually played up with so much drama, angst, and maybe a bit of romance. Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person on the other hand takes this choice as a comedic one. It may be a tad ludicrous for a vampire to refuse to drink blood on ethical grounds and trauma, but writer-director Ariane Louis-Seize takes this silly situation with a compelling sweetness, depicting Sasha with a familiar teen uncertainty made much more captivating with Sara Montpetit’s gothic ingénue charisma. Humanist Vampire does take a more quirky YA romance approach than expected from the title, but it’s funny, charming, and totally something new.

If crime was so easy to turn away, no one would actually join in, in the first place. But sometimes, it’s your friends that loop you into the underground, into risky and dangerous situations that take you away from your families and lovers, even if you know better. Short Sharp Shock is centered around one such friendship between three immigrants, a Turk, a Serb, and a Greek, that depicts a portrait of a German multi-cultural neighborhood that hasn’t been widely seen before this film’s release. It feels very reminiscent of classic American gangster films, albeit with an eclectic mix of languages, sounds, and images, and writer-director Fatih Akin captures his home district with confidence and style.

Whores’ Glory leads us through the hidden world of prostitution in three different countries. The lack of narration is an excellent choice here—all too often, it’s easy to accept preconceived notions about this type of work. Instead, what leads us through the film are words from the sex workers themselves and their clientele. In some ways, these words reveal their differences. The workers pray, worry about money, and share their troubles with each other, but it’s their employers and clientele who reveal their misogyny. Overall, while the Western soundtrack and glamorizing shots can be distracting, it’s clear that the film gives respect to sex workers and prioritizes their perspective.

It can be very frustrating to watch something, hoping that the show, play, or film would be worth watching, and find yourself feeling worse after the experience. Most of us end up just changing the channel, leaving the theater, or finding something else to watch, but instead of doing any of this, Yannick depicts the titular audience member interrupting the show with a gun. You can already imagine how tense the situation is, but Quentin Dupieux infuses a comedic, meta touch in the way Yannick questions and holds the audience hostage, as his conversations with them and the cast reveal the different expectations we have from art.

No one likes to be replaced. Even when it gets difficult, hardwork and years put in effort to take and keep these roles makes it feel precious, and that’s exactly how househelp Raquel feels in The Maid. It’s a funny domestic comedy, with a scowling Catalina Saavedra ready to protect the role she’s held onto for years, but Saavedra and writer-director Sebastián Silva crafts an empathetic, realistic character study of a woman so worn down from poverty, power imbalance, and having had no breaks that the rare instance of compassion feels like a threat. La Nana doesn’t quite critique the entire system that keeps Raquel in her role, but it’s a rare film that acknowledges the importance of rest and empathy in order to feel human.

Dedicated to his father, director Christopher Honoré’s most recent film contemplates the loss of a parent. This endeavor is a deeply personal one. Honoré’s approach acknowledges this– he starts and interjects throughout the whole film with scenes of Lucas confessing his dark emotions. After all, losing one’s father is a difficult theme to talk about, let alone losing one who hasn’t fully expressed their acceptance of your sexuality. It’s easy for Lucas to fall into despair, but Honoré clearly respects the grief of his young protagonist. Even in Lucas’ more risky behavior, the camera is set with a non-judgmental eye. However, Honoré focuses more on hope here. The hope of familial support, of having another tomorrow, and of having a true friend… These are the hopes that await Lucas. These are the promises Honoré makes for those who lost their father.

While primarily a showcase of endoscopic footage of various surgeries in different hospitals throughout Paris—which should already be enough to either make you queasy or inspire introspection into the fragility of our lives—this singular, experimental documentary places all this bloodshed in the context of the mundanity of the medical profession. Much of the film is taken up by muted conversation from the surgeons and footage of elderly patients wandering around, creating an even more surreal look into the lack of support these hospitals receive. It’s far more abstract than it is educational, but its commitment to getting its hands dirty makes it an unforgettable experience.

It would be easy to define Rose Plays Julie as a cross between Promising Young Woman and Killing Eve, but this psychological thriller turns the camp factor down to zero and makes even just the act of watching somebody else an existential experience. Directors Joe Lawlor and Christine Molloy treat this story with stone-cold intensity (perhaps to a fault), transforming their title character from a confused girl to somebody who relishes the power they have to disrupt other people’s lives through her mere existence. There’s something eerie about it that crawls under your skin if you let it, like a ghost story told among the living.

Following is the first movie Christopher Nolan ever directed, a mesmerizing low-budget effort that introduced the world to the genius who will later give us Memento, Inception, The Dark Knight, and many other classics. Shot in “extreme” conditions to quote Nolan himself, for just over £3000, it had to be filmed in the span of a year on Saturdays only and in friends’ houses. But almost none of that is visible in the sharp camera work, the magnificent acting (most of it was first or second takes), and the twisted script. It tells the story of an unsuccessful writer (The Young Man) who tries to find inspiration in following random people in the street, and doing it via strict rules. One day he follows a man in a suit (Cobb), who catches him and becomes intrigued by him. It turns out that Cobb has his own fascination with people’s intimate lives, of criminal nature, which he lets The Young Man into. Using the same non-linear plot technique as in Memento, this movie is halfway between a thriller and a film noir. The inspiration for it came when Nolan’s own apartment in London was robbed, and he was fascinated by the act of strangers going through his personal items. If you take into consideration the conditions of its making, this movie is a masterpiece.

A Still Small Voice is very hard to watch, but essential if you want to learn how to assuage grief. It’s also comforting if you’re going through it yourself. We follow chaplains as they hold the hands of patients, comfort the bereaved, and offer relief to fellow healthcare workers. But as much as the film centers on the superhuman compassion these chaplains offer, it also shines a light on how taxing the job can get. We see them perenially exhausted but, still, endlessly giving with their time and generosity. One in particular, Margaret, is troubled by this conflict: how do you set a boundary for yourself when the person you’re speaking to could die in an instant? How do you prevent yourself from being consumed with guilt? A Still Small Voice employs a fly-on-the-wall approach, but it’s still sensitively (if impartially) told.