Justine Triet’s scintillating French feature “Anatomy of a Fall” was the big winner at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, taking home the coveted Palm d’Or along with the praise of most critics. Picked up by NEON for distribution, the film is on its way to a wider audience who will get to experience what is one of the most riveting courtroom dramas of recent years.

But narrowing Triet’s film down to the courtroom would be a gross disservice. There’s so much more packed into this lengthy but compelling feature. It’s also a well-crafted crime mystery. It’s an insightful analysis of a broken marriage. And it takes a look at a touching yet complex mother-son relationship. There is a lot to unpack along the way. And there’s enough ambiguity throughout to have you second guessing much of what you see. But that’s a testament to Triet’s craftiness and a big part of what makes the film work.

In what is one of the year’s best performances, Sandra Hüller plays Sandra Voyter, a translator living with her novelist husband Samuel (Samuel Theis) and their 11-year-old visually impaired son Daniel (Milo Machado-Graner). The family lives in a cozy mountain chalet at the base of the French Alps. This gorgeous scenic setting will soon become the site of tragic accident, the scene of a crime, or perhaps something else entirely. Trier and production designer Emmanuelle Duplay get us well acquainted with the location – a place under great scrutiny for the first half of the film.

One sunny day Daniel takes his guide dog out for a walk. Upon arriving back home he discovers his father laying in the snow, dead from an apparent fall from the house’s third-floor attic window. Sandra rushes outside after hearing her son’s cries and soon the police are on the scene to begin their investigation. A deep head wound immediately raises suspicions and Sandra finds herself as the chief suspect. Before long she’s officially indicted.

Sandra seeks the help of a savvy lawyer friend named Vincent (Swann Arlaud) who takes her case and begins building her defense. Sandra is adamant that her husband fell. “Yea but nobody’s going to believe that”, Vincent bluntly professes. “I don’t believe that.” The inconclusive autopsy results don’t help. From there new details arise and new evidence comes to light. Fresh revelations prompt an array of new questions about the family and their relationships.

Of the film’s many strengths, perhaps tops on the list is Triet’s extraordinary screenplay. It’s highlighted by her handling of characters, by the depth of her story, and by some of the most engrossing dialogue you’ll come across this year. This comes out most in the courtroom scenes where old baggage is spilled out and shallowly buried secrets are unearthed. Together with Hüller’s superbly calibrated performance, Triet shows small cracks in Sandra’s veneer as her entire life is laid bare by the prosecution. But she holds it together, leaving us with even more uncertainty.

“Anatomy of a Fall” can be a bit cold at times yet it’s not without an emotional current. And while it will never lose your attention, it probably didn’t need to be two-and-a-half hours long. But those are minor beefs especially when considering what Triet has achieved. She has put together a smart and sophisticated story, brought to life through her precise and confident direction. It’s pretty easy to see why it has received so much praise from Cannes and beyond.

VERDICT – 4 STARS

The great Jeffrey Wright remains one of the sturdiest and most reliable actors working today. Whether it’s a big budget superhero movie or a quirky Wes Anderson comedy, as cliche as it is to say, he tends to make every movie he’s in better. His latest, “American Fiction” is a testament to that truth. Based on author Percival Everett’s 2001 novel “Erasure”, the film hands Wright some tricky material that not just anyone could handle.

Written and directed by Cord Jefferson (making his feature film debut), “American Fiction” was presented as a straight satire in most of the marketing. It’s actually something quite different. The movie certainly has its funny moments, and the wacky premise from the advertising is still there. But “American Fiction” is much more of a family drama. These two sides of the story work together well enough for a while. But over time they begin to pull apart and feel more separated. By the third act it’s almost as if we’re watching two different films. Thankfully the one constant is Wright who is the glue that holds it all together.

Wright plays Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, a brilliant college professor and talented novelist who is going through a rough patch. He’s been asked to take a leave of absence from the university after a family complained about his….frankness. And as for his writing, he can’t get a publisher to pick up his new book, a modern-day retelling of Aeschylus’ “The Persians” (I wonder why). But what sours him most is how society has corralled Black voices into one small narrowly-defined box.

Monk heads from California to Boston to reconnect with his family who he’s barely spoken to since his father died years earlier. He begins with his sister Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross) who was left to take care of their ailing mother (Leslie Uggams) on her own. The siblings have a feckless and unreliable brother, Cliff (Sterling K. Brown). But he’s much more interested in sewing his wild oats than chipping in to help with his mom. So we have a strained family dynamic. But interestingly there’s more to these characters beyond our first impressions, and Jefferson pours a lot of time into defining them.

Meanwhile back on the more satirical side of the story, Monk grows more angry with each new rejection he gets from publishers. His agent, Arthur (John Ortiz) tells him books like his are a hard sell in the current climate. He tells him that publishers are after more “Black” books. Something like the current bestseller “We’s Lives in Da Ghetto”, a novel by the “groundbreaking” Black author Sintara Golden (a fabulous Issa Rae).

Annoyed, Monk facetiously writes his “Black” novel, mockingly embracing every cultural stereotype and societal depiction. He titles it “My Pafology” and uses the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh to heighten the absurdity. Monk gives it to Arthur demanding that he send it out to publishers. He does so as a prickly joke, but he’s floored after his book is quickly picked up. It becomes a huge hit much to Monk’s chagrin. Soon he’s being asked for interviews, to do promotional tours, and there’s even talks of a movie adaption (Adam Brody is hilarious playing a Tarantino wannabe director).

While all of this is going on, Monk’s life back home seems as if it’s happening in another universe. He hits it off with a neighbor named Coraline (Erika Alexander). Meanwhile his mother is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s leaving the family with some difficult decisions to make. And that just scratches the surface of the story’s domestic angle. Again, Jefferson puts a lot of time into building these relationships. It’s what he seems most interested in. And so much so that the craziness of the comedy side rarely seeps into the family drama.

As a result of juggling what feels like two different movies in one, “American Fiction” ends up longer than it needs to be. Despite being thoughtful and compelling for most of its running time, the family stuff leans a little too melodramatic near the end. At the same time, the satirical stuff wraps up on a clever yet slightly unsatisfying note.

All of that aside, both the drama and comedy have good things to say about racial politics and more specifically Black representation. The song choices and Laura Karpman’s jazzy score are pitch-perfect (I was hooked the moment “Without You” by Ace Spectrum starts playing over the opening credits). There are several other good ingredients scattered throughout (Myra Lucretia Taylor as the Ellison family’s housekeeper is pure gold). And of course there’s Wright. It’s so good to see him get this kind of meaty, well-conceived lead role. Hopefully Hollywood takes notice.

VERDICT – 3.5 STARS