This year’s Cannes Film Festival served up its usual mix of glittering highs and frustrating lows. While some high-profile titles—Die My Love, Eddington—failed to deliver, and debut features from Hollywood A-listers like Kristen Stewart (The Chronology of Water) and Scarlett Johansson (Eleanor the Great) proved underwhelming, there were still bright spots in the lineup. A handful of offerings from renowned directors—Wes Anderson, Spike Lee, Richard Linklater—landed in the “pretty good but not great” category. But beyond the red carpet glitz and misfires, five films managed to truly break through the noise, staking their claim as unforgettable cinematic achievements. Here’s a closer look at the standouts that are destined to linger long after the Croisette clears.
Sentimental Value
Joachim Trier returns with a film that may well surpass his masterwork The Worst Person in the World. Once again teaming up with stars Renate Reinsve and Anders Danielsen Lie, Trier crafts a deeply affecting portrait of family—specifically, two sisters and their domineering, egocentric father, a filmmaker with a shadow as large as his legacy. Set in a once-grand Oslo home whose cracks mirror the family’s emotional fractures, the narrative stretches across decades, marrying keenly observed dialogue with aching nostalgia.
Stellan Skarsgård turns in a towering performance as the patriarch, while Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas and Elle Fanning shine as the sisters navigating the weight of memory, love, and resentment. Trier’s sharp script dances gracefully between wry humor and emotional devastation, culminating in a gut-punch of an ending that has already cemented the film’s place in the 2026 awards conversation.
It Was Just an Accident
Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi makes a defiant and genre-bending return following his recent imprisonment. Eschewing traditional political drama, Panahi instead crafts a surreal, darkly comic revenge thriller that doubles as a searing critique of systemic injustice. At the story’s center is a humble mechanic (Vahid Mobasseri) who becomes convinced he’s found the man who tortured him in prison. What follows is a chaotic, almost farcical kidnapping that spirals into a road trip populated by a wildly eclectic band of misfits—each with their own reasons for seeking justice.
The absurdist elements—a bribe paid via card reader, a baby born mid-abduction—are as entertaining as they are biting. But beneath the laughs lies a chilling commentary on trauma and authoritarian cruelty. It’s both wildly entertaining and deeply resonant—a film that lingers with the weight of truth disguised in satire.
Alpha
Julia Ducournau, the provocative mind behind Titane, returns with another disturbing and unforgettable vision. Alpha explores adolescent girlhood through the lens of speculative horror. Thirteen-year-old Alpha (a mesmerizing Mélissa Boros) navigates the messy chaos of the ’90s—complete with drugs, rock music, and the looming threat of a mysterious virus that calcifies skin into marble before turning it to ash.
The film is dense with symbolism, weaving themes of bodily autonomy, fear, and societal decay into its feverish tapestry. Golshifteh Farahani delivers a heart-wrenching turn as Alpha’s mother, while Tahar Rahim’s portrayal of her addicted uncle injects an extra layer of dread. While the ending wobbles and leaves threads untied, Alpha is a singular, visceral experience—flawed but fierce, a film that burrows under your skin and stays there.
Sound of Falling
Mascha Schilinski’s enigmatic, time-hopping Sound of Falling might be the most ambitious entry of the festival. The story unfolds on a remote German farm, where four girls from different generations—Alma, Erika, Angelika, and Lenka—experience love, death, and grief within the same haunted landscape. The film slips seamlessly across decades, dissolving temporal boundaries to reveal a mosaic of inherited trauma.
At times baffling in its looseness, the film’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime asks for patience. Yet those who stay the course are rewarded with a richly textured meditation on memory and continuity. Schilinski’s poetic vision and immersive sound design render the narrative as much a feeling as a story—one that’s haunting, hypnotic, and strangely timeless.
Urchin
Actor Harris Dickinson takes a confident leap behind the camera in his directorial debut, Urchin, a raw and compassionate portrait of homelessness in modern-day London. Frank Dillane stars as Mike, a man slipping through the city’s cracks—by turns vulnerable and volatile, gentle and self-destructive.
Dickinson handles the material with remarkable restraint, refusing easy moral binaries or pat conclusions. The film’s tone walks a tightrope between despair and tenderness, with a visual style that is both gritty and lyrical. There are missteps—an experimental ending that doesn’t quite land—but overall, Urchin marks Dickinson as a filmmaker to watch. Bonus points for a killer soundtrack moment involving Atomic Kitten’s “Whole Again,” which provides a surprising jolt of emotional resonance.
Final Thoughts
Despite a festival that featured its share of big-name letdowns, these five films stood tall—bold, strange, and profoundly human. Whether you’re drawn to the poetic, the political, or the outright peculiar, there’s something in this year’s Cannes crop that will stay with you long after the credits roll. Keep an eye out for these titles—they’re the ones that truly mattered.
