Welcome back to another installment of Arthouse(ish) quarantine streaming guides. This time we’re hitting up the Netflix void. Happy streaming, fellow quarantiners …

The VVitch (2015)

This film is the original scare-fest that solidified Robert Eggers as one of the most powerful new voices in contemporary American psychological horror films. The VVitch follows a family in 16th Century New England as their paranoia of a curse—and in turn, a witch—begins to overpower them. This film examines the fragility of the human psyche by revealing how quickly paranoia seeps into the subconscious and the devastating consequences of that follow. Eggers wrote the script based off of primary source material, which sets the ambience in an authentically chilling backdrop of religious fanaticism, as well as a gritty sense of place that amplifies the fear of evil lurking close by. The groupthink mania that took place in the infamous Salem Witch Trials might be an interesting piece of history to look into before first watching this New England horror film. If you’re into Robert Eggers, be sure to also watch his newest piece, The Lighthouse. You won’t be disappointed.

American Honey (2016)

Andrea Arnold is a force to be reckoned with. She won the Cannes Jury Prize three times, two BAFTAs, an Oscar in 2005 for her short film Wasp (great film, you should watch that too), and countless other nominations and wins from festivals across the world. Her feature films (and shorts, and tv shows …) are female centric stories that cover a wide range of lives and experiences. American Honey follows Star (played by Sasha Lane in a magnetic debut) as she travels around the American Midwest selling magazines with a group of young adults who are just as free and lost as she is. Star lives life on the edge, precariously balancing on the thin line between fun and dangerous. Shia LaBeouf stars alongside her as Jake, a sleazy but charismatic magazine seller. Jake is also Star’s love interest and guide through the hazy world of partying and door to door sales. Andrea Arnold pulls off a surprisingly nuanced premise: while selling magazines might seem inconsequential to many, American Honey asks the audience to consider the essence of sales in a wealth-focused capitalist society. That essence boils down to one central question: how well do sellers sell themselves? Star’s life on the edge brings her to a loaded choice: how far will she go, or rather, how far does she have to go to sell herself.

Atlantics (2019)

I first saw Mati Diop in Claire Denis’ 2008 film 35 Shots of Rum, and at the time I had no idea that she was both an actress and a critically acclaimed director (as well as an accomplished screenwriter and cinematographer). Atlantics is the first film directed by a Black woman to compete at Cannes, where it won the Grand Prix. This is Diop’s first feature, and I must say, it is stunning. The film centers on Ada (played by Mame Sane in her acting debut), a young woman in love with Souleiman, though she is engaged to another man. When Souleiman and his fellow construction workers try to cross the Atlantic from Senegal to Spain, Ada’s town turns more towards magical realism than reality. As the title suggests, Diop uses the ocean as a visual and auditory motif that emotes alongside Ada and Souleiman. This film is about love, rage, regret, and the mysterious connection between those who leave and those who are left behind.

Drive (2011)

It’s easy to get lost in the aesthetics of a film like Drive because, well, it’s gorgeous. Drive is a neo-noir chiaroscuro world mixed with golden hour neon vibrance. Like I said: gorgeous. It’s also violent. Very tense. And surprisingly contemplative. Nicolas Winding Refn creates emotional tension through his use of silence, alternating temporal structures (he slows down time!), pace within loaded editing sequences, and his careful use of movement within pictorial frames. For every high-intensity car chase sequence through LA streets, there’s a quiet moment of lingering tenderness between Carey Mulligan and Ryan Gosling gazing at each other down a hallway. Gosling projects hints of a subterranean emotional landscape that we only see the beginnings of. He captures a depth that we can never reach or fully understand. This constant state of not knowing is equally reflected in his character’s lack of name: we only know him as “Driver.” Drive is a love story, drama, action thriller. All that’s to say: it’s gorgeous.

Divines (2016)

Two young women (Dounia and Maimoua) who live in the outskirts of Paris decide to insert themselves into the local drug dealing scene to make money. Add in Djigui, a dancer, who shares some uncomfortable flirtations with Dounia; Rebecca, their merciless supplier and boss; and some dangerous dealings with … well, lots of people … and there you have it. Divines is as simple and as complicated as that. As equal parts crime drama and buddy film, Divines takes two particularly cis-white-male genres and tells a compelling story focused on two young women of color trying to hustle their way into better lives, and the severe repercussions they inevitably come up against on their drug-dealing path. Houda Benyamina’s feature debut won her critical acclaim: she won the Caméra d’Or and was nominated for three César awards. No small feat for a first feature.

Frances Ha (2012)

Who is Frances Ha? Well, after watching this film many times over many years, I still don’t have a full understanding of who she is. That’s the beauty of Frances Ha. At any given point, the viewer is just as lost as the main character, Frances. This film drifts in a tangential narrative structure, which reflects the lack of direction Frances herself has. Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig, the king and queen of “so-natural-it’s-uncomfortable-but-I-can’t-look-away dramedy” or, “mumblecore,” construct a distracted but charming story of a woman without direction in life. Check out Marriage Story and The Squid and the Whale if you’re into Noah Baumbach’s indy style.

I’m No Longer Here (2019)

At first glance, this film feels more like a documentary than a narrative feature, but that’s to writer/director Fernando Frías de la Parra’s credit. I’m No Longer Here seems to be such an authentic exploration of identity that its realism is undeniable. Ulises Sampiero, a 17-year-old, is the leader of his gang called Los Terkos in Monterrey, Mexico. Frías’ writing tracks the protagonist in two parallel timelines: one at home in Monterrey, and the other in Queens. At home, Ulises and his friends listen and dance to Cumbia—a central pillar of their identities. Ulises’ music taste, hair style, clothing, and social life revolve around the love of Cumbia and his identification with Kolombia culture. But his joyously chaotic, music-filled life at home doesn’t last forever. In one of the most arresting shots in the film, Frías constructs a long take that lingers on a blood-stained wall; Ulises cowers behind the corner while lifeless bodies sprawl casually across the street. Cartel violence leads him the point of no return, and he is forced to leave his home and find his way through the streets of New York City as a complete outsider. This docu-realism film dances alongside Ulises as he loses (and searches for) himself in the midst of loneliness, homesickness, and a harsh reality.

The Lobster (2015)

Yorgos Lanthimos continuously takes “dark comedy” to a new level of dark. You might have heard of Lanthimos via his Oscar-nominated directing for The Favourite, which made waves in the film world in 2018. Normally I would say, if you liked The Favourite, you might like this film. But in this case, that’s not exactly true. Don’t get me wrong— The Favourite is an amazing piece. It’s dark, it’s fast, and completely captivating. The Lobster is an entirely different beast, though. Will you cringe when you watch it? Yes. Often. Will you be disgusted? Definitely. Will you need to look away at some points? I sure did. Will you laugh? Maybe …? It depends on what you find funny. Personally, I find the film macabre, irreverent, incredibly disturbing, and not very funny. But definitely worth watching. Love and the idea of soul mates are common themes in most (if not all) art forms. The Lobster takes love to a dark place by diving into dystopian societal expectations of finding your match. Imagine a world where all single people are put in a building together and are forced to find their match—or else they get turned into animals for the other single people to hunt in an endless forest. Relationships, in this world, are a social construct meant to keep you alive. Watch this film at your own risk. You won’t regret it.

Moonlight (2016)

I cannot recommend this film enough. I cannot recommend Barry Jenkins’ entire body of work enough. My last quarantine streaming list featured his film If Beale Street Could Talk, so I had to follow suite and include another Jenkins masterpiece. Moonlight is a dream-like coming of age story of a young Black man in Florida told across three timelines: Chiron as a boy, an adolescent, and an adult. The film grapples with the pain and pleasure within self-knowing and sexual awakening. Moonlight captures decisively poetic moments and addresses the cultural complexities of black masculinity. While this film won numerous accolades, here are a few fun facts: Mahershala Ali was the first Muslim man to win a best supporting actor Oscar for his role as Chiron’s father figure in this film, and Joi MacMillon was the first Black woman to be nominated for an editing Oscar.

The Florida Project (2017)

While this film takes place next door to Disney World and has all of the saccharine visual cues of South Florida, the story couldn’t be farther from its Disney counterpart. This slice-of-life film follows Moonee, a kid with an adventurous soul and a small crew of friends who roam around the motel that they call home. I use “adventurous” loosely here, meaning, these kids are adorable fun seekers, but tread precariously close to—and into—serious danger on a semi-regular basis. A group of six-year-olds left to their own devices with no adult supervision is a risky world to live in. Moonee lives with Halley, her young single mom who barely (and I mean barely) makes ends meet. Willem Defoe plays Bobby, the Motel manager, and gives an understated and thoughtful performance as one of the most “normal” characters I’ve ever seen him play. The drastic contrast between the rich and beautiful Disney World and the struggling families surrounding the iconic tourist location provide an empathetic view into American class dynamics, where extreme desperation lives next door to luxury.

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