7 international films I’ve watched in 2022

I have previously written about international films — including those nominated for the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film (known as Best Foreign Language Film before 2020), my favourite Oscar category — as well as about films I’ve seen at various festivals. As another year draws to a close, I’ve been reflecting on the films I’ve watched over the past twelve months. Of these, seven were international. Before I discuss them further, I should clarify that I’m borrowing the terminology used by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (best known for its annual Academy Awards, a.k.a. “The Oscars”): international refers to films made primarily in a language other than English.

One of the reasons I love cinema is that it allows me to see the world through the eyes of others — that’s the psychiatrist in me speaking. It also transports me to faraway places and even to different moments in time — and that’s the travelling psychiatrist speaking. This year, I followed Tilda Swinton through Colombia (Memoria), raced across Japan on a Bullet Train, and holidayed with Julia Roberts and George Clooney in Bali (Ticket to Paradise). I then set sail on a luxury cruise in Greece (Triangle of Sadness), boarded another down the Nile (Death on the Nile), and enjoyed an all-inclusive holiday in Turkey (Aftersun). I also met Elvis, dined with Ralph Fiennes (Menu), and came of age in the marshlands of North Carolina (Where the Crawdads Sing). And just a few days ago, I returned to Greece — this time to the island of Spetses — for Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery.

The 7 international films I watched in 2022

The reason I am such a big fan of international films is that they offer a window into their countries of origin — places often very different from, and less familiar than, the US or the UK. Through cinema, I get to explore cultures, landscapes, and perspectives I might otherwise never encounter. In 2022 alone, I travelled — cinematically, at least — to Norway, Spain (twice), South Korea (three times), and France.

The Worst Person in the World (Verdens verste menneske)

Directed by Danish-born Norwegian filmmaker Joachim Trier, The Worst Person in the World is a poignant and thought-provoking Norwegian drama that was nominated at the 94th Academy Awards for both Best International Feature Filmand Best Original Screenplay. The film stars Renate Reinsve, who received the Best Actress award at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival for her remarkable performance. Reinsve plays Julie, a young woman in her late twenties who struggles to find direction in her love life and career, drifting from one phase of self-discovery to another as she grapples with modern relationships, ambition, and identity. Beautifully filmed in Oslo, the story captures the bittersweet messiness of growing up emotionally and learning to live with one’s choices.

Despite my fondness for Norway — its films, TV series, and literature — and my genuine appreciation for The Worst Person in the World, I believe that Japan’s Drive My Car ultimately deserved the Oscar for Best International Feature Film.

Parallel Mothers (Madres paralelas)

Written and directed by acclaimed Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar, Parallel Mothers is a deeply emotional drama exploring motherhood, identity, and the lingering shadows of Spain’s past. It is the first of two Spanish films I watched this year — both starring the ever-brilliant Penélope Cruz. In this film, Cruz plays Janis, a 40-year-old woman who gives birth at the same time as a teenage mother, Ana. The two women form a bond in the maternity ward, only for Janis to later discover that their babies were accidentally switched at birth. As their lives intertwine in unexpected and heartbreaking ways, Almodóvar delicately examines themes of truth, memory, and the meaning of family.

Parallel Mothers earned two nominations at the 94th Academy Awards, including Best Actress for Penélope Cruz, whose nuanced and powerful performance anchors the film’s emotional depth.

Official Competition (Competencia oficial)

The second Spanish film I watched in 2022, Official Competition reunites Penélope Cruz with Antonio Banderas in a razor-sharp and witty satire about art, ego, and the absurdities of the film industry. Written and directed by Gastón Duprat and Mariano Cohn, the film follows a wealthy businessman who, seeking to secure a lasting legacy, decides to finance an “art film” based on a Nobel Prize–winning novel. To bring his vision to life, he hires an eccentric and perfectionist director, played brilliantly by Cruz, whose flamboyant methods and psychological games push her two leading men — a vain movie star (Banderas) and a pretentious theatre actor (Oscar Martínez) — into a hilariously escalating battle of egos.

With its clever writing, biting humour, and self-aware critique of cinematic pretension, Official Competition is both an entertaining comedy and a sharp reflection on the fine line between genius and absurdity in the creative process.

Decision to Leave

Selected as South Korea’s official entry for Best International Feature Film at the 95th Academy Awards, Decision to Leave is one of the three South Korean films I watched in 2022 — though admittedly, it was my least favourite of the trio. Directed by the acclaimed Park Chan-wook — known for Oldboy and The Handmaiden — the film earned him the Best Director award at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival.

The story follows Hae-jun (played by Park Hae-il), a diligent and quietly melancholic detective investigating the mysterious death of a man who fell from a mountain. His prime suspect is the victim’s enigmatic young widow, Seo-rae (Tang Wei), whose calm demeanour and ambiguous motives both unsettle and captivate him. As the investigation unfolds, professional boundaries blur and an unexpected emotional entanglement develops, transforming the film from a straightforward crime mystery into a haunting, slow-burning study of love, guilt, and obsession.

Stylish and beautifully shot, Decision to Leave is less about solving a crime and more about the yearning and loneliness hidden beneath its characters’ restraint — a hallmark of Park Chan-wook’s meticulous storytelling.

The Anchor

I watched The Anchor at the London Korean Film Festival, which took place in November this year. The screening was made even more engaging by the presence of the film’s director, Jung Ji-yeon, who participated in a fascinating Q&A session afterward.

The film stars Chun Woo-hee as Se-ra, a successful but emotionally strained TV news anchor whose life takes a chilling turn when she receives a late-night phone call from a distraught woman claiming she is about to be murdered. When the caller is later found dead, Se-ra becomes drawn into a dark web of mystery and manipulation, uncovering disturbing truths that blur the line between her personal and professional life. Shin Ha-kyun co-stars as the woman’s psychiatrist, a figure whose role in the unfolding events is as ambiguous as it is unsettling.

The Anchor is a tense psychological thriller that delves into the pressures of modern media, the fragility of mental health, and the dangers of exploiting tragedy for the sake of ratings — a gripping blend of suspense and social commentary.

Confession

The third South Korean film I watched this year — at the Leeds International Film Festival in November, followed by Charlotte Wells’s Aftersun — was Confession, a taut psychological thriller directed by Yoon Jong-seok. Adapted from the acclaimed Spanish film The Invisible Guest (Contratiempo) by Oriol Paulo, it offers a sleek and suspenseful reimagining of the original story while infusing it with a distinctly Korean tone and atmosphere.

The film stars So Ji-sub as Yoo Min-ho, a wealthy businessman accused of murdering his lover, and Kim Yunjin as his sharp and determined defence attorney, who works tirelessly to uncover the truth before his trial begins. As their tense, closed-door conversation unfolds, buried secrets, conflicting motives, and unexpected twists come to light, challenging everything the audience — and the characters — believe to be true.

Despite having seen The Invisible Guest a few years earlier, I found Confession equally gripping and masterfully crafted. In fact, I still cannot decide which version I prefer; both kept me captivated until the very end.

Both Sides of the Blade (Avec amour et acharnement)

Both Sides of the Blade (Avec amour et acharnement) was the only French film I watched in 2022, and it stars Juliette Binoche — one of my all-time favourite actresses. Directed by the acclaimed Claire Denis, who won the Silver Bear for Best Director at the 72nd Berlin International Film Festival, the film is a slow-burning and emotionally charged exploration of love, betrayal, and the painful complexity of human relationships.

Binoche plays Sara, a radio journalist who appears to be in a stable and loving relationship with her long-time partner, Jean (Vincent Lindon). However, when she unexpectedly crosses paths with her former lover François (Grégoire Colin) — who also happens to be Jean’s old friend — long-buried emotions resurface, igniting a turbulent love triangle that tests loyalty, desire, and self-control.

While I deeply admire Binoche’s nuanced performance and Denis’s intimate direction, I must admit that Both Sides of the Blade did not resonate with me as strongly as other films featuring Binoche, nor as much as many of the other international films I watched this year.

Further reading (and watching)

To read more about international films, check out my posts:

From ‘No Time to Die’ to 5 films about grief

Best International Feature Film goes to…

A cinematic journey to South Korea

Happy New Year!!!

Alex

(the Traveling Psychiatrist)