From haunting political satire to surreal desert journeys and visceral coming-of-age horror, Cannes 2025 is proving to be one of the festival’s most polarizing years yet. Here are the films making the most noise — and in some cases, drawing sharp lines in the sand.
A town on fire: Ari Aster’s divisive “eddington”
Friday night’s premiere of Eddington delivered a stark reminder of why Ari Aster’s work never leaves audiences indifferent. Set in a fictional New Mexico town at the onset of the pandemic, the film opens as a slow-burn political satire and mutates into a chaotic horror epic. Joaquin Phoenix plays a bumbling, MAGA-coded sheriff whose conflict with the liberal mayor (Pedro Pascal) escalates from bickering over mask mandates to violent culture warfare, complete with gunfights and antifa conspiracies.
For much of its 2½-hour runtime, the Cannes audience sat in stunned silence — not from boredom, but from sheer disbelief at the audacity on screen. When the credits rolled, reactions split dramatically: some rose in ovation, others bolted for the exits. Even Aster, known for pushing boundaries with Hereditary and Midsommar, seemed unsure of what he’d just unleashed. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted during his remarks. “I don’t know what you think.”
Whether it’s a masterpiece or a misfire depends on whom you ask. Variety lauded its ambition. The Guardian found it “tedious.” What’s certain is that Eddington isn’t going unnoticed — and that, for better or worse, is exactly what Aster wants.
Road to nowhere: The raw power of “Sirât”
Few films have rattled audiences like Sirât, the Cannes competition debut from French-Spanish director Oliver Laxe. A psychedelic descent into the Moroccan desert, the film follows a desperate father (Sergi López) who infiltrates an illegal rave in search of his missing daughter. When armed soldiers storm the party, he joins a ragtag group of ravers — many with visible disabilities — on a hallucinatory journey through the sand, noise, and heat.
With long stretches of no dialogue and only pounding house music, Laxe creates a haunting sense of limbo. The film’s title, Arabic for the bridge between heaven and hell, echoes throughout its every frame. The cast, largely composed of nonprofessional actors, brings uncanny realism to a tale that feels both biblical and apocalyptic.
Audiences left shaken. “I feel like I need a hug,” said one American film student outside the screening. Critics, too, are placing Sirât at the front of the Palme d’Or race. It’s not an easy watch, but it may be one of Cannes’s most original offerings this year.
Dark waters: Adolescence gets monstrous in “The plague”
Director Charlie Polinger’s debut The Plague is a brutal, unforgettable meditation on the horror of puberty, set in a 2003 boys’ water polo camp. Shot with an eerie, almost documentary realism, the film follows a group of 12- and 13-year-olds obsessed with avoiding a skin disease dubbed “the plague” — a metaphor for everything from bullying to sexual shame.
The cast of mostly unknowns is extraordinary, with standout performances from Everett Blunck as the shy newcomer and Kayo Martin as the cruel ringleader. Joel Edgerton appears as their hapless coach, adding a grim layer of absurdity. The violence is mostly emotional, but when physical outbursts occur — often in locker rooms or junkyards — they hit with terrifying force.
Musician Johan Lenox’s score adds grandeur to the chaos, and the film’s tone has struck a nerve, particularly with female critics who see its message as larger than gender. Charli XCX even chimed in with a five-star review on Letterboxd. The Plague may not win a top prize, but it’s already a cult classic in the making.
Ghosts of women past: “Sound of falling” haunts cannes
Mascha Schilinski’s Sound of Falling is the quiet powerhouse many didn’t see coming. Spanning a century and four generations of women on a German farmstead, this nonlinear epic explores trauma, female agency, and the bitter inheritance of violence. The film was programmed early in the competition, but it’s stayed front-of-mind for critics and audiences alike.
With an almost dreamlike narrative structure, Schilinski weaves through time and space: from a child too young to understand the abuses around her, to a teen discovering her sexuality under the gaze of male relatives, to modern women grappling with inherited grief. The transitions are jarring — sometimes deliberately disorienting — but the emotional core never wavers.
Viewers emerged unsure of everything except the film’s power. “We may have already seen the best film at Cannes this year,” wrote Vulture’s Alison Willmore. Whether it takes the Palme or not, Sound of Falling has established Schilinski as one of Europe’s most exciting new auteurs.
History lessons: “Two prosecutors” takes aim at the past and present
Ukrainian director Sergei Loznitsa returns with Two Prosecutors, a harrowing and incisive drama set in 1937 Stalinist Russia. In a time when Russia is excluded from Cannes, this tale of state terror and moral resistance feels eerily current. The plot centers on a local prosecutor who uncovers the truth behind false confessions and systemic torture in a Soviet prison — and dares to report it.
The bureaucratic labyrinth Kornyev must navigate feels almost satirical, even as the stakes rise to life and death. Loznitsa’s style is sparse but exacting, with a cold tone that mirrors the indifference of the system. The film has drawn comparisons to Kafka and has become one of the most critically praised entries at the festival.
In a year when conversations about authoritarianism are unavoidable, Two Prosecutors lands with a heavy punch. It’s political cinema at its most potent — and perhaps its most necessary.
A festiVal in flux
Cannes 2025 is not playing it safe. From surrealist deserts to poolside horror, from pandemic politics to generational trauma, this year’s lineup is testing the limits of what cinema can express — and what audiences can endure. Whether you’re walking out in protest or staying riveted in your seat, one thing is certain: the conversation doesn’t end when the credits roll. And that, more than any single award, may be the point.
