High among my favorite international filmmakers working today is German auteur Christian Petzold. Few in his field have maintained the consistent excellence of Petzold, whose career began in 2000 and has spanned the course of eleven movies. He’s been on an exceptionally good run, starting with 2012’s “Barbara”. It was followed by the superb “Phoenix”, “Transit”, “Undine”, and “Afire”. His latest, “Miroirs No. 3” falls right in line with those quietly alluring gems.

“Miroirs No. 3” sees Petzold following his uniquely compelling formula of utilizing grounded contemporary realism while subtly engaging classic genre conventions. And as before, it results in another richly human yet slyly evasive story with a striking emotional undercurrent. But while political allegories have often been central to his movies, here Petzold brings his steady-handed and economical style to a family drama.

The film pulls much of its strength from its lead, Paula Beer. Equal parts captivating and enigmatic, Beer has long been a perfect fit for Petzold’s storytelling form. “Miroirs No. 3” is their fourth film together. And while it could be considered a minor work compared to their past collaborations, the pair once again find the beguiling harmony that has become a signature of their films.

Beer plays Laura, a piano student from Berlin who reluctantly agrees to join her boyfriend and fellow musician Jakob (Philip Froissant) on a weekend getaway with a producer he hopes to impress. Things take a fatal turn after the couple have a car wreck on a quiet rural road. Jakob is killed and a dazed Laura is found by a older woman named Betty (Barbara Auer) who witnessed the accident.

Betty walks Laura to her nearby home and calls the police. After being examined by paramedics, Laura refuses to go to the hospital. Instead she makes a strange request – she asks if she can stay with Betty. Puzzled yet accepting, Betty agrees which sets up Petzold’s unusual scenario. Similarities between the two begin to surface with both seeming lost and detached. But it’s Betty’s situation that ends up getting thenmost of the attention.

Petzold throws several early clues at us, to the point that we get a sense for what’s going on well before it actually plays out. Betty’s house in various shades of disrepair; the near maternal care she shows for Laura; the strange looks the two get from neighbors passing by. But the biggest pieces of the puzzle come with the appearances of Betty’s son Richard (Matthias Brandt) and their moody adult son Max (Enno Trebs).

I won’t spoil where things go from there, but what starts as a beguiling mystery quickly gives way to a story about grief, healing, and the power of human connection. Again, it turns out to be a nice fit for Petzold’s minimalist yet broadly observant style. The film also shares a similar ambiguity with his past films, although here it leads to a slightly less satisfying ending. But Petzold has never minded opacity. He’s more interested in patiently sorting through the emotional journeys people take. And who better than Paula Beer to be our guide?