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Use our World Map to find the best films from each country, choose a continent below to explore the best films from each continent, or simply scroll down to see our latest posts featuring films from around the world. Or, if you're up for a challenge, work your way up to the top of our Film Difficulty Rankings to become a World Film expert.
Whilst the drama of Eva is kicked off by tragedy, the film never feels tragic. This is an immensely warm-hearted film which breaks traditional gender roles by casting Endry Cardeño, a trans-woman, as Eva, a grandma forced to take care of her granddaughter. As per the idiom; “it takes a village to raise a child,” we find a small tight-knit community in Tegucigalpa, the largest city in Central America, instead of one of the murder capitals of the world.
In Eva, a trans-woman takes care of her granddaughter after the sudden death of her daughter-in-law. While processing grief, she tries to help her son connect emotionally to his daughter. Amid tensions, reproaches, and silence, Eva and her son embark on separate paths towards the reconstruction of their family bond and place within their community.
The combination of tragedy and tight-knit family and community make Eva a heart-warming addition to the Central American ‘hood film’ genre. Like the first ‘hood films’ from Los Angeles, such as Boyz n the Hood and Menace II Society, and along the lines of Amor Y Frijoles and La Yuma,Eva centers on the experiences of characters growing up in under-served communities in urban environments. It shows that community bonds are the key to surviving through tragic realities of the city in the face of limited government support. For Eva, there’s no evidence of public support for her adoption of her daughter-in-law. Instead, she builds connections with her in-laws, family, lovers, and customers, to turn the overwhelming city into a warm, mellow community.
It’s also wonderful to see nontraditional gender roles integrated so naturally in Eva. By casting Endry Cardeño as a trans, single grandmother, director William Reyes, normalizes trans people on film, trans people in family roles, and trans people as grandparents (especially pertinent as the life expectancy of trans-women in Tegucigalpa is just 32 according to the director William Reyes).
Look out for Eva‘s release in the coming months to catch a tender, poignant film that centers on family and community navigating tragedy.
The Condor Daughter is a beautifully shot tale of tradition standing against the threat of expanding globalization. You’ll be transported to the awesomely scenic mountains of the Bolivian Andes and thrown into the Quecha culture of the Totorani community. You’ll follow Clara, a young woman working with her adopted mother as a midwife, as she battles the allure of modernity and fame.
It starts the same way we all enter the world; in childbirth. Clara sings tenderly as a mother pushes her child into the world. The dimly lit room they’re in contrasts with the brightly lit hospital environments endemic to modernity. But the brightness comes in the next shot. As the baby arrives, the images cut to a still shot of the mountains, showing the incredible setting and linking the birth (and the communities lives) to Pachamama – mother nature. This link is built upon throughout the film with majestic shots of the mountains at sunrise and sunset to mark each day and cement the importance of nature to the community. When their crops fail and livestock die, it’s as if this connection has been disturbed, and they look to Clara’s flirtation with modernity as the culprit.
Clara has followed her adopted mother into the midwife profession. As one of the foundations of the cycle of life, midwifery is hugely important to maintaining tradition. Losing cultural control of midwifery destroys a pillar of the Quechua culture, opening up a space for encroaching globalization to exploit. The stakes are made clear in a scene in which a patient says she’s going to deliver her child in the government clinic because of the cash bonus and child benefits this entitles her to. Clara’s mother understands the threat of modernization, but Clara does not. Clara is drawn to the allure of the city and fame. However, like other indigenous films which explore the battle between tradition and modernity, parental inflexibility pushes their kids away. Clara’s personal struggle for freedom mirrors the communities battle to retain their own culture.
The strict parent and modernity vs. tradition narrative feels overly familiar – see Utama, Whale Rider, or even The Secret of Kells – but it’s always engrossing. However, the top reason to watch The Condor Daughter is for the stunning cinematography.
As the fourth smallest country in Europe (ahead of the city states of San Marino, Monaco, and Vatican City), it’s not surprising to find that there isn’t a film industry in Liechtenstein. The capital Vaduz has less than 6,000 inhabitants – smaller than larger high schools in the U.S. – and the country is one of just two doubly-landlocked countries in the world (the other being Uzbekistan). Children of the Mountains (Kinder der Berge) is the country’s first and most well-known feature film (by relative standards), but finding it was too much of a challenge despite a recent restoration. Therefore, we’ve searched far and wide for an accessible and recent Liechtensteiner film, and bring you Project Poor Noriko, a student film from Yuna Hoch.
Yuna Hoch divides Project Poor Noriko into four chapters which depict two young women breaking their bonds with a metaphorical society. Using highly-symbolic imagery and vivid, high-contrast shots, Hoch paints an elusive allegory of the modern day patriarchy.
Here’s how the plot of the short film plays out over the four short segments of dialogue-free images:
In chapter 1, ‘Chains of (in)justice,’ a young woman in lingerie wakes up in chains with bloody bodies around her and finds a hammer to break her chains and escape whilst on TV another young woman swings on a swing and makes a bracelet for her hockey stick.
In chapter 2, ‘Society’s Strings,’ a captive harpist plays, possibly calling to the recently escaped young woman from chapter 1.
In chapter 3, ‘Like beads on a rosary,’ sinister priests in robes tempt the young women of earlier chapters with apples and give them rosaries. Both women fight their creepy advances.
In chapter 4, ‘The Talisman of the Breaker,’ the harpist from chapter 2 removes her barbed wire chains and turns on her captor. The young women from chapters 1-3 break free and end the film in a natural environment with bright clothing.
Whilst the narrative is complicated by the editing between the three female characters (including the harpist), all three women share the same symbolic break from the metaphorical society which holds them captive. They all fight against patriarchal sexualization, personified in the creepy priests, the harpists’ captor, and in their lost childhood innocence. Project Poor Noriko’s message is a bit heavy-handed, but is demonstrative of a filmmaker unafraid to take big swings.
What Next?
The vivid colors and high contrast images reflects influences from both early German Expressionist silent films (see The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) and the punchy graphic novel style images of Zach Snyder films such as 300 and Batman vs. Superman. If you’re looking for more hard-to-grasp imagery dominated film, you could try The Color of Pomegranates, the highly-visual experimental film from Armenian legend Sergei Parajanov.
Here we go! We’ve touched on the start of the Mexican Golden Age with Alla En El Rancho Grande and the stylistic zenith of the movement with Gabriel Figueroa’s cinematography in Enamorada; now it’s time for the most popular Mexican movie of all time: Nosotros Los Pobres. This is the film that every Mexican has seen.
So what’s new? Firstly, the nostalgia for past eras has been thrown out the window. There’s no more romanticized ranch life of Alla En El Rancho Grande or romanticized Mexican Revolution of Enamorada. These periods, as well as the indigenous idolatry of Maria Candelaria and Flor Silvestre, have been traded for the present day. Nosotros Los Pobres takes place in the city and features many everyday characters. This was the first major film that Mexican audiences saw themselves on the screen. The urban environment and tragedy-stricken characters resonated strongly with widespread experiences of the working class. Through the melodrama, audiences could process their trauma and gather around a unified Mexican identity, which was still being constructed in post-revolutionary Mexico.
A Reflection of modern mexico
The setting isn’t pretty. The city of Nosotros los Pobres doesn’t have the open spaces of the ranch or the quaint small-town feel of Cholula. Instead, people live so close together that they can hold conversations with their neighbors through their windows. The cramped contemporary urban environment would have been familiar to Mexican audiences in the city, at a time when the country was rapidly urbanizing. Following the Mexican Revolution and Second World War, the citizens were drawn to the quickly expanding metropolis of Mexico City, trading living space for work opportunities. Following this migration, more and more Mexican films were set in the city, such as the Rumberas of the late 1940s and 1950s (see Aventurera or Victims of Sin) and Bunuel’s Los Olvidados (1950).
The modern, working-class characters of Nosotros los Pobres were also more recognizable to Mexican audiences. Their sing-song, unpretentious speech reflected how most Mexicans spoke (and even served as the comedic punch in one of the whistle-led musical numbers), making them instantly identifiable. Pepe el Toro, played by superstar singer Pedro Infante, was an every-man rolling with the punches of poverty. His character reinforces the Mexican male archetype, as per Carlos Monsivais, with a character ‘simultaneously brave, generous, romantic, and cruel,’ a fierce family man, always ready to defend those he love. Pepe el Toro was more rounded than the virtuous men in Maria Candelaria and Alla en el Rancho Grande. He lived through the same poverty-stemming problems as his viewers, but fought it wherever he could, even if that landed him in trouble.
Unlike Alla en el Rancho Grande and Enamorada, which were both set in romanticized past, the cramped urban spaces and identifiable characters reflected contemporary Mexico. Through the modern setting and working-class characters, Nosotros losPobres helped to continue building Mexican identity upon the foundations of the romanticized past with the help of melodrama.
Developing Mexican Identity through Melodrama
It’s easy to forget that Mexico is a hugely diverse country. With 63 official languages and many distinct cultures within it’s borders, building national unity has been one of the country’s success stories. The Mexican Golden Age was a crucial part of uniting the people within Mexico’s borders around a common identity. Films like Alla en el Rancho Grande and Enamorada constructed a romanticized past for people to look back on (instead of remembering it’s brutality), and gave the people pride in Mexican culture through the iconic dress and music. But the people needed spirit to get through the trauma of a rapidly modernizing country. This was just the job for melodrama.
So what is melodrama? According to Wikipedia, it’s an exaggerated version of drama, in which plot, typically sensationalized for a strong emotional appeal, takes precedence over detailed characterization. Whilst ‘melodramas’ have acquired a bad reputation for work that lacks subtlety and character development, the Mexican Golden Age films used it as a vehicle to guide their viewers.
Nosotros los Pobres ends with the quote ‘se sufre… pero se aprende’ (one suffers… but one learns) plastered to the back of a wagon. This comes *spoiler alert* after multiple surprise deaths, an eviction, and injustices. Seeing this after all the exaggerated tragedy is meant to encourage the audience to persevere through the turbulence of modern Mexico. It gives them a fictional space to process their real-life traumas resulting from the rapid urbanization of Mexico and widespread social displacement. Unlike later films such as Los Olvidados in which the characters are forgotten in a hopeless ending, the characters of Nosotros los Pobres (and it’s audience) learn to suffer with dignity. It serves to show that although we may be poor, we have love, we have dignity, we have a country that we can be proud of.
The melodrama celebrated the suffering of poverty and ennobled the working class. It showed audiences that they were not alone by uniting them with universal heroes to follow and hope for the future
What Next?
If you started here, head back in time to the start of the Mexican Golden Age with Alla en el Rancho Grande and admire it’s artistic zenith with Enamorada.
Looking forward, witness the rise of the rumbera genre, which built seedier urban environments off the back of the popularity of Cuban rumba rhythms with films such as Aventurera and Victims of Sin. Or view Luis Bunuel’s Los Olvidadosas a counter-program to the hope and didactic messages of Nosotros los Pobres.
Slamdance returned to Los Angeles in 2026 to celebrate it’s second edition in the city of angels after moving from Park City , Utah (just ahead of Sundance’s own departure from the city). This grassroots festival was established by a group of filmmakers rejected by Sundance in the 1990s to provide an alternative to the mainstream festival circuit.
Whilst I wasn’t able to attend this year’s festival in-person due to a last-minute call up for jury duty, the Slamdance team made the event incredibly easy to cover for virtual attendees by providing advance screener access to the full lineup. This helped me to stay on top of the festival and stopped me from spilling the tea about the case I served on.
The 2026 festival featured 141 films, including 50 world premieres, selected from more than 10,000 submissions. The programmers maintained a strong commitment to diversity across the slate: 50% of the films were directed by female, trans, or non-binary filmmakers, and 41% by BIPOC directors. We love to see it!
Our coverage focused on international titles from outside the United States and Anglophone world. We’ve highlighted our standout feature films and short films from this year’s slate below.
Top Feature Films from Slamdance 2026
Whilst the Slamdance programmers place a lot of importance on local Los Angeles and U.S. filmmakers, the slate also included a wide selection of films from around the world. Here are our top three feature films from Slamdance 2026.
1. Zumeca (Dominican Republic)
Zumeca is a true epic. It draws from pre-colonial dramas such as Aguirre, the Wrath of God and Zama, as well as the cross-cultural romances of Dances with Wolves, to create a unique love story.
While it plays with the white-savior trope, it is not a white savior movie. Instead, it confronts the real brutality of the conquistador colonizers as Indigenous culture is dismantled by religion, weapons, and disease.
It’s carefully shot black and white cinematography, with a constantly moving camera reminiscent of Terrence Malick, gives the film the feeling of a modern classic.
2. Tony Odyssey (Brazil)
Two friends rob their workplace to steal a futuristic drug that sends them on a surreal trip through the underworld in a wild range of Holy Motors-esque scenes, all speaking to the trauma of modern capitalism (and Brazil). Tony Odyssey is far from the perfect film. The scenes don’t flow particularly well, but their originality signals a new cinematic voice to look out for from Brazil.
3. Matapanki (Chile)
If you’re a fan of the Blaxploitation movies of the 1970s and 1980s, you’ll find some comfort in Diego Fuentes’ Matapanki. It’s a punk-sploitation movie in which a punk dude discovers that a mine-sweeped cocktail gives him superpowers. This sets him off on a revolutionary quest to take down the Chilean government… and the U.S. president himself. It’s raw, wild fun, and not to be taken seriously.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
It’s also worth your time to check out two of the Jury Prize winners: Whisperings of the Moon (Cambodia) and Silver (Bolivia). Whisperings of the Moon immaculately captures the feeling of falling in love with it’s Past Lives-esque story. Silver portrays the brutal landscape surrounding the Cerro Rico, one of the Spanish Empire’s largest silver mines, which continues to be mined by the Indigenous Bolivians despite the danger.
Top Short Films from Slamdance 2026
There was also a vast range of short films at Slamdance, from your expected animated, live-action, and documentary shorts, to experimental shorts and even video-game experiences! Here are three of our favorites.
1. Lost Wax (Nigeria)
Omorose Osagie’s Lost Wax is one of the most beautiful-looking films of the festival, regardless of format. The shot composition and balance of black-and-white is truly awesome. The story bounces between different perspectives, creating an intriguing narrative that leaves much to the imagination through a mix of live-action and animation. I’m excited to see how Osagie continues to develop her storytelling in future projects.
Screenshot
2. We Used to Take the Long Way Home (Vietnam)
I’m a sucker for road trip movies, so We Used to Take the Long Way Home really struck a chord with me. It follows a high school road trip reunion, reviving old romances in a similar way to Cambodia’s Whisperings of the Moon (mentioned above). The film leans into high school nostalgia, using playful stickers to separate chapters and a goofy comedic character to inject humor. The 2000s are back!
3. La Mayordomia
Did you know that in the outskirts of Mexico City, and across the country, you can sign up to care for a 16th- or 17th- century baby Jesus doll? La Mayordomia introduces you to the world of these dolls; the people who loan them out, the requirements you must meet to be a candidate parent, and the mandatory handing-over ceremonies. It’s an engrossing glimpse into a unique religious tradition!
Honorable Mentions
If you want more, hunt down two magical-realist shorts: Loquita por ti (Spain) and Levantamuertos: Cumbia for the Dead (Mexico). The former is a romance set against the backdrop of bullfighting, while Levantamuertos follows a mortician who can speak with the dead.
For a diverse range of films from filmmakers you’ve never heard of, but might be the next big thing, the Slamdance Film Festival is one you need to attend. We discovered several filmmakers we’re excited to keep an eye on in the future to see how their work evolves.
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