100 Best Foreign Movies on Kanopy Right Now

How to Win at Checkers (Every Time) is less a film about checkers and more a coming-of-age drama about brotherly love. Sure, they play the game. Oat gives some rules to play it. But it’s heartbreaking to see that despite knowing these rules, and applying them to the game that is life, Oat and his older brother Ek still can’t win against chance, the chance that’s actually rigged behind the scenes. It’s a subtle way to depict the frustration towards Thailand’s draft lottery, one that’s rigged by class, gender, and corruption. There are some elements that are left underdeveloped, but the sacrificial love shared between the brothers is what makes How to Win at Checkers (Every Time) worth watching.

Ida, the 2015 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, is a stark black & white drama set in the early 60’s about a young Polish nun-to-be and her bawdy Aunt Wanda searching for the truth behind her family’s demise at the hands of the Nazis. What initially comes off as a painfully slow sleep-inducer pretty quickly evolves into a touching and lively contrast between the two lead characters; one virtuous and pure, the other boorish and hedonistic. Their journey is equal parts amusing, insightful and heartbreaking, with Ida’s personal exploration of self playing out as a remarkably humanistic affair. The cinematography by Lukasz Za and Ryszard Lenczewski is particularly striking, each shot a work of art in it’s own right. Logging in at just 82 minutes, the entire story whizzes by in a flash. The kind of film that will stay with you long after you’ve watched it.

The Wave is a movie about manipulation, National Socialism and the authoritarian development at a German school. The well-liked teacher Rainer Wenger presents a social experiment to his students which quickly expands to a much larger scale. His experiment, named “Die Welle” (the wave), is part of a project week at the school about different forms of governments. During his pedagogical approach to the topic Wenger goes through an alarming process, which is fascinating to observe as a viewer. The screenplay is based on a Californian experiment “The Third Wave” from 1967 and its novel from 1981 which became a classic piece of literature in German-speaking countries such as Germany, Austria and Switzerland.

A funny, feel-good French movie about a man who joins a synchronized swim team to get over his depression. Comprised only of other middle-aged men, they decide they want to compete for the world championship. Sounds like an unlikely story? It’s actually based on a real-life documentary from Sweden called Men Who Swim. If you get French humor, this will make you laugh (a lot), and if not, you’ll surely enjoy the easygoing tone of Sink or Swim.

This funny and charming movie is about a Palestinian slacker named Salam who works on a famous Israeli soap opera. Each day, he has to pass a tough Israeli checkpoint to get to work and in an attempt to make things easier for himself, he agrees to change the ending of the soap opera to please the officer in charge of the checkpoint. At the same time, a temperamental French actress and his Palestinian love interest wish for opposite endings to the show. Stuck between love and politics, Salam has to navigate a complex situation to please all sides. There are a lot of hummus jokes.

If you like movies without plot, you’ll love Korean master Hong Sang-soo’s work in Grass. Sang-soo likes to write the script for his characters and not the other way around: he hires actors, then writes a script that would fit them every morning of the shoot.

The result is a personal movie that feels improvised and experimental, despite being quite simple: it’s about a small café and a woman who observes the interactions of the guests.

An indigenous language is dying, and the last two people who speak it have not spoken to each other in 50 years. In this calm drama from Mexico, linguists are sent to try to get them to talk so they can document the language. 

The story goes that two men have stopped talking because they fell in love with the same woman, so there is a romance wrapped neatly within the linguistic story. What truly steals the show, however, is the breathtaking nature in which it’s all set – the stunning region of Chiapas.

Esteros revolves around the childhood friends Matías and Jerónimo, who reach adolescence and experience sexual attraction to each other before being separated by circumstance. When they meet again ten years later, they explore their long-repressed feelings for each other. 

This moving and emotionally satisfying love story is shot against the backdrop of the Argentinian countryside whose glories are beautifully captured throughout the movie. The performance of the two leads is excellent and the chemistry between them is almost palpable. 

The lives of a single mother forced into prostitution and another woman who needs an operation to restore her virginity clash with the structure of Iran’s traditionally patriarchal society in Tehran Taboo.  The result is a story that sheds light on the double standards women face, especially surrounding sex and sexuality, and overall what it is like to be female in a society practically founded on institutional misogyny. 

To make up for not being able to shoot in Tehran, director Ali Soozandeh chose to use the method of rotoscope animation: an unconventional style of animation that involves first shooting live actors in a studio and then inserting extra sounds and backgrounds in the editing process. Tehran Taboo is fearless in its exploration of the social and sexual restrictions imposed in modern Iran.

It’s been years since Fahrije and the women of her village lost their husbands to the war. It’s one thing to move on after their passing, but quite another to never be sure about their whereabouts, dead or alive. Hive tells the story of how, in the wake of this inexplicable loss, the women of a Kosovo village reluctantly band together and make a new life for themselves and their families.

Thanks to its grit and restraint, Hive avoids the cheesy trappings of a melodrama. The dialogues are straightforward and the performances taut but affecting. Their battle with poverty and misogyny is sadly a familiar tale, but told through the lens of single mother/burgeoning entrepreneur Fahrije, it is rendered deeply personal and illuminating. 

Fourteen-year-old Segundo dreams of being just like his father Noé, a revered tableau artist in their small Peruvian town. The teenage apprentice follows Noé’s every move and instruction, that is until one day, he discovers a shocking truth about Noé’s identity. Hurt, angered, and incredibly confused, Segundo starts detaching from his family, as well as from the life he thought he’d wanted to live. 

Retablo is a slow but vibrant film, set in Peruvian locales and spoken in the country’s indigenous tongue, Quechua. Its limited dialogue smartly reflects the people’s own silence when it comes to sex and gender ideas, although the movements themselves—from traditional parties to teenage fights—have a lot to say about masculinity, conservatism, and the dangers of their excess. Retablo might be a difficult watch for some, but it’s just as necessary and enlightening.

Xavier Dolan’s emotionally charged directorial debut centers on the complex relationship between 16-year-old Hubert and his mother, brought to life by Dolan himself and Anne Dorval, respectively. The film paints an authentic and all-too-familiar picture of two people who love each other yet clash in similarly self-centered and stubborn ways.

The mother-and-son duo vacillate between love and hate in a screenplay full of drama. The cinematography, relying much on negative space, perfectly evokes a sense of disconnect and animosity. However, there is little subtlety to be found here, much like Hubert’s sexuality being embodied by a poster of River Phoenix displayed in his bedroom. The rawness and heightened telling of events indicate that this story is as fresh and unpolished as then 19-year-old Dolan’s own feelings about family dysfunction, particularly mommy issues. The heavy-handedness and moments of exaggeration in his quasi-autobiography are obvious, a fault of execution that one can attribute to lack of experience.

Still, the powerful visuals and dialogue hint at a vision of what more to expect in Dolan’s now-celebrated career. I Killed My Mother, by all accounts, fulfills its role as his promising directorial debut.

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.

While adoption doesn’t have the same stigma as it did back in the day, it doesn’t mean that the process is worry-free. There’s still a host of issues surrounding the process, plenty of which have been depicted in film. So, it’s no surprise that True Mothers holds more or less the same themes we’ve seen before, but where some films focus on mining the melodrama, filmmaker Naomi Kawase’s writing is much more restrained, keeping its take as naturalistic and detail-oriented as possible, and thus, demystifying the process. The slow pace may not be to everyone’s taste, but True Mothers is a thoughtful, sensitive portrayal of Japan’s adoption system today.

We remember the idea of the tortured artist, in part due to many works depicting life’s sorrows, but also due to the fact plenty of the greats fit this trope well. Camille Claudel is one such tortured artist, but her anguish has not led her to artistic acclaim. Instead, Isabelle Adjani’s take on the sculptor contemplates the ways her genius has gone unrecognized, in part due to her bout of insanity, but in part due to the maddening ways her art has been cut short by those that claim to love her. While it does take nearly three hours, and, like in real life, the film focuses more on her relationship with Rodin than her own art, Camille Claudel nonetheless remains a fascinating character study of a woman that just wanted to make art on her own terms.

There are plenty of LGBT stories made in film, but not all of them have to end in tragedy– some, especially in recent years, are relatively sweet, lighthearted, and merely focused on the simple experience of a first love. Boys has the classic coming-of-age romance moments we’re familiar with, such as the first kiss, training camps, and after school fair dates, and even though it’s just made for television, it’s beautifully captured, including that stunning overhead lake shot where Sieger and Marc swim together. If you’re craving for a sweet and easy LGBT romance without the heartache, or if you’re new to watching LGBT films altogether, Boys is a decent entry-level movie to start with.

Some bigots like to equate genitals to one’s gender and sexual orientation, but in practice, it’s not always a straightforward equation, especially for the rare, but natural, occasion when people are born with both male and female sex organs. XXY isn’t the first film to discuss the intersex experience, but it’s one of the first features that managed to be critically acclaimed. Unlike some of its predecessors, XXY is much more grounded, taking place in the modern era, and is mostly centered on Alex’s gender and sexual exploration. The film isn’t a perfect depiction– at the time, intersex wasn’t even the most common term, and sex-reassignment surgery was often the default action– but there is a lot in the film that dared to question certain ideas, such as having to choose only between a binary. Not many intersex films were created after this, in part due to how rare intersex is, and how broad the term encompasses multiple conditions, but XXY stands out all the more because of it.

In another country, you can forge a completely different life from the one you had in your hometown. For closeted LGBTQ+ individuals, moving to a more tolerant society allows you to explore facets of your sexuality that wasn’t possible previously. In Goodbye Mother, first generation immigrant Nau Van is confronted with the secrets he hid from his hometown, the secret that isn’t a secret in America. The conflict plays out in a familiar fashion, going through plenty of the usual experiences that coming out entails, but, while these are familiar, Goodbye Mother tugs at the reality Asian immigrants experience, and does so in a sweet and empathetic way.

While Hollywood still makes some films in this genre, there are less historical epics being released, in part due to cost, but also in part due to having had so many, ever since the start of the medium. However, there are some historical events that we rarely see on film, and one of them is The Great Battle. Set before the formation of a united Korea, the film is a classic standoff against a larger army, that has all the swordfighting and armies we’ve come to expect, but it’s also grounded by the dynamic between a young warrior sent to assassinate, and the hardened, brilliant commander whose leadership kept the troops protected. While there are moments that definitely eludes historical accuracy, and there are some subplots that distract from the main conflict, The Great Battle is a fairly entertaining historical epic to watch, especially when focused on the action-packed clashes and the spectacular warfare.

Much like its monster, Brotherhood of the Wolf is quite a hard movie to pin down. It’s an unscary French creature feature but it’s a rather refreshing period drama romance, made much more action-packed courtesy of a randomly placed, supposedly Iroquois, talented martial artist. Yet somehow, it works. Perhaps it works because it was released ahead of many other early aughts action horror films, and perhaps, at CGI’s infancy, it’s a bit easier to suspend disbelief over the wolf, but the wacky experimentation writer-director Christophe Gans brings in depicting this historical beast is just so entertaining to watch. Brotherhood of the Wolf is just pure bonkers.

Why do we cling to the people that we love, but who clearly don’t treat us well? It’s a common question in romance films, one that often leads to a conclusion that people shouldn’t feel shackled to partners that don’t treat them right, but sometimes other films seem to shame these unfortunate lovers for making the wrong choice. My King doesn’t do that. Sure, Georgio can seem like an obvious asshole (he is), but writer-director Maïwenn makes clear that the same things that make him erratic– his spontaneity, his enjoyment of life, and his open acceptance– which Vincent Cassel superbly embodies, are also the same things that attracted Tony in the first place. And as Tony recovers her knee, the careful interstitching between her time at the center and her romance with Georgio visually parallels the physical and emotional wounds in an interesting way. Mon Roi is familiar romance stuff, but it’s the approach that makes the film work.

Has there ever been a relationship dynamic more complicated than The Marriage Circle? It’s not made out of one or two love triangles, it’s actually a whole pentagon between two married couples and one of their friends. This convoluted tangle of relationships makes for a rather surprising comedy. As they interact, not just through silent intertitles, but also through scribbled letters and lip reads, the film transforms the original play into an entertaining romp. Director Ernst Lubitsch expands past the witty dialogue through provocative innuendo, with shots that hint at the heady emotions they shouldn’t feel for each other. But what makes the film surprising is its ending, as it pushed against marital boundaries, long before no-fault divorce. The Marriage Circle might not be as prominent as Lubitsch’s talkies, but it’s the witty silent film that hinted at his future mastery over the comedy of manners.

While the enemy of my enemy is my friend, the two leads in The Gangster, the Cop, the Devil are more like an uneasy alliance of rivals competing to hunt down a serial killer. This isn’t a new concept. Filmmakers all over the world are fond of putting together two opposite characters and making them butt heads. But in the hands of writer-director Lee Won-tae, a criminally powerful Ma Dong-seok and an intense Kim Mu-yeol still prove to be a compelling match to watch. The slick fight scenes, the brutal kills, and the intense chases all capture their dynamic performances in a stylish and moving way.

Treeless Mountain is a depressing film. The premise is already sad enough, but it’s more heartbreaking to actually witness the kids slowly reckon with their mom abandoning them, clinging to her lie that she’ll return when their piggy bank gets full, and resorting to grilling grasshoppers for petty change. This mostly works because writer-director So Yong Kim honors that hurt by depicting their journey naturally. The camera shoots at their eye level, capturing the subtle realizations these girls have as they try to make sense of the world without guidance. Treeless Mountain understands their pain, simply letting the experience speak for itself.

Beasts Clawing at Straws is so fun to watch. Most crime thriller fans would find the MacGuffin money, the dubious characters, and the nonlinear timeline familiar, but the way Kim Yong-hoon depicts the 2011 Japanese novel is pretty stylish and engaging. It takes a while to set up, though. As the film steadily introduces new plot threads, the first half can feel a bit confusing. However, by the midpoint, these threads all weave into a series of comedic pay-offs, bringing those who yearn for the cash to unexpectedly satisfying ends. While a bit uneven, Beasts Clawing at Straws is entertaining from start to finish.

Given its incredibly slow pace, Found Memories is not for everyone. With the same company shared for years until near retirement, it takes a long while for this sleepy town to wake up, and it only happens when a new character enters the town. However, for viewers who are patient enough, the film contemplates how easy it is to get lulled into routine. It can be boring. It can be a way that keeps one stuck in life. But it can be beautiful. As Rita learns their rhythms from baker Madalena, and Madalena gets to know her, Found Memories reflects on life and death, in a visually poetic way.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that the mix of ideas and aesthetics that gave us Her has roots in Japan. Borrowing from the country’s poeticism, attention to detail and just appreciation for beauty; Tony Takitani is Her’s quiet and delicate elder brother-film, and one of the best this genre has to give. After spending a solitary childhood, a Japanese kid with the American name Tony grows up to be a successful technical illustrator. Without the time for the outside world or any luck with it, Tony indulges in his work and by extension his loneliness until he suddenly falls a distinctive young woman. Tony Takitani is a slow film, which quickly becomes a memorable experience due to its profound study of loneliness.

What happens to genius and complex filmmakers once they reach old age? Agnès Varda at 89 is one example. She maintains an interest in the same deep questions but portrays them in a casual way – basically tries to have a little more fun with things. She finds a friend in JR, a young artist with a truck that prints large portraits. Together they go around French villages (the French title is “Visages Villages”), connecting with locals and printing their photos on murals. Their interactions are researched, but not worked. In fact, they are deeply improvised. Because of this and because the movie is structured in an episode format, it will completely disarm you. And when you least expect it you will be met with long-lasting takes on mortality, loss, but also gender, the environment and the evasiveness of life and art.

Hotel Salvation is a touching movie about a father asking his son for a last wish : let him die in the Holy city of Varanasi. This Indian drama will let you discover a modern Hindu philosophy, the power of the scenic Varanasi and the bonds of family. It faces the question of death in the light, gentle and humorous way that perfectly illustrates the contradiction in question: celebrating life while surrounded by death.

A beautiful, poetic and disturbing ode to the waters of the Chilean archipelago from the perspective of the stars and planets, its Indigenous inhabitants, and the bodies of those who were disappeared into it under the Pinochet regime. As Patricio Guzman tells us and shows us, water has a memory and a voice. The opening sequence is like Salgado’s “Genesis” photos but in colour and moving on the screen, absolutely breathtaking.

How much do you know about what’s inside the skincare and cosmetic products you use? This is one of the main questions Toxic Beauty addresses. The award-winning documentary features a series of powerful and insightful voices, including Deane Berg, the woman who took the American multinational corporation Johnson & Johnson to court to claim its body powder was a factor in her contracting ovarian cancer. As the film progresses, it becomes more and more apparent that the beauty industry is as unhealthy as the products it creates and promotes.

Always follows the story of Jeong-hwa and Cheol-min, both very different individuals who are gentle in their own way. The story starts off by demonstrating how different the leads are in terms of their personality and their outlook on life. The plot can be a little predictable and cliche in some moments, but Always is not a complicated movie—though in addition to being a romance, it also includes some surprising violence that may intensify your viewing experience. Still, Always is about the two leads’ struggle against fate as they try to survive their tough situations, with strong chemistry between the lead actors from start to finish.

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.

Rarely do we get to see the human body in its natural state in public, mostly limited to nude beaches, but it’s understandably so– beyond the usual social norms, there’s a vulnerability in doing so, a vulnerability that is sometimes taken advantage of. Stranger by the Lake captures the beauty of that vulnerability, with stunning shots that elevate the explicit scenes from being pornographic, but crucially, the film also captures its dangers, namely the increasingly self-destructive risks Franck takes that leads him to a dangerous man. The line between lust and aggression blurs in this film, and understandably, some may take this film to be sex-negative, but Stranger by the Lake is an intriguing slow burn towards its inevitable conclusion.

Usually, when your film is over budget, you rewrite scenes, cut down production costs, or maybe even try to renegotiate with suppliers and crew members to fit within the budget. Allegedly, when Wong Kar Wai was making Ashes of Time, however, his friend Jeffrey Lau decided to help him out by creating The Eagle Shooting Heroes, a parody of the same source novel Legend of the Condor Heroes. It is very silly, and the costumes are very stereotypical. But for fans of Hong Kong mo lei tau, and fans of either directors, it’s an interesting double watch, seeing all the actors that made viewers cry in Wong’s dramas now make us laugh with their antics instead.

Loss can be straightforwardly heartwrenching, but it could also be bewildering, cryptic, and too sudden to even process. New Religion depicts a grieving mother, whose loss of her daughter, and her meet up with an eccentric photographer, causes her to behave strangely. The film goes through the events in a surreal, existential haze, with a skin-crawling scene that reveals the photographer’s nefarious reasons, but the sequences remain inscrutable and the themes and certain characters don’t mesh as well as they could have. New Religion might befuddle viewers just looking for a casual watch, but it’s definitely a thought provoking and promising debut from Keishi Kondo.

When it comes to superheroes, there are ideal ones to emulate, and there are those who stumble into the position. They Call Me Jeeg is the latter. Before he gets dunked into radioactive waste, Enzo starts out as a thief with dubious character, so sure, we’re not expecting moral perfection. However, at the very least, we hope to see Enzo grow into a hero, acknowledge his past faults, and maybe, just maybe, use his powers for good. While the film does bring him there, sadly, his wrongdoings, especially towards Alessia, is never truly acknowledged, and never needed to be included in the first place. They Call Me Jeeg takes on a gritty, violent vibe that many action fans will enjoy. It’s just that there’s too many scenes made just to be edgy.

As a sluggishly paced, three-hour spiritual drama with little dialogue and even less plot, Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell certainly won’t convert anybody who isn’t already interested in slow cinema. Even those who don’t mind these types of films in which “nothing happens” might feel that it doesn’t weave its themes of faith and suffering tightly enough. But there’s more than enough beauty to contemplate here, courtesy of Dinh Duy Hung’s stunning cinematography, which invites us to simply inhabit the world and to stop looking for answers. This may sound like a copout, but it’s quite the experience to have a film force you to rethink how you’re viewing it, as you’re viewing it.

Fairytale parodies reimagine these classic tales to reexamine or question its related themes. Once Upon a Crime attempts to do this by imagining Little Red Riding Hood as a detective investigating the murder of a hairdresser in Cinderella’s ball. The campy glamor of the costumes and sets, as well as the incongruence of Little Red’s detective mindset, makes the film watchable. However, the film takes strange twists that stray too far from the original stories. And while the cut locks make an intriguing metaphor, the resulting ending betrays any sense of justice for the characters, most especially the abused Cinderella.

Stories of forbidden love are captivating, because in the face of a lover, in the face of one’s opposite, one cannot help but be challenged, hopefully for the better. This is not what happened here. Out in the Dark is a film debut that takes this idea in the Middle East, with two gay lovers coming from Palestine and Israel. It’s an intriguing idea, and had it been more nuanced, Israeli director Michael Mayer would have created a daring first feature, but the film clearly comes from a limited Israeli perspective, with no Palestinians casted or working behind the scenes. While the film may be sympathetic to hypothetical LGBTQ+ people in Palestine, Out in the Dark doesn’t have the guts to question why they’ve been persecuted in the first place.