Almost more like an audiobook than a traditional movie, the first and unfortunately final film from Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson pairs soothing narration by Tilda Swinton with surreal images of alien structures on a desolate planet for a piece of sci-fi that may very well be un-categorizable. As a "story" ostensibly meant to carry some sort of urgency, Last and First Men isn't entirely convincing. But as an example of pure imagination that challenges how you think of biological life, it's totally fascinating. As Swinton details the continuous cycle of death and rebirth that humanity goes through over an impossible span of time, it's hard not to feel the hope and tragedy of it all—while also making you reconsider how things are in our present day.

There isn't one particular moment or evolutionary cycle that stands out above the rest in Last and First Men, because the experience of everything in its totality really is greater than the sum of its parts. But as tempting as it may be to dismiss the film as purely experimental (and therefore something to which regular criticism or analysis doesn't apply), there really is sharp, intentional filmmaking here if you seek it out. It's a very slowly paced movie for sure, but the parade of images we get are haunting, and the sound design immediately transports you somewhere far beyond wherever you're seated.