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Over the span of just a couple weeks, more than 300 new movies are launched into the world via the Venice, Telluride and Toronto film festivals — a trio of events that collectively kick off award season and tease what moviegoers can expect to discover in theaters over the year ahead. To help make sense of all those new offerings, Variety sends a dozen critics to the three events, sifting through the overwhelming lineups, looking for the proverbial wheat among so much chaff. Here, chief critics Owen Gleiberman and Peter Debruge identify the 15 films that impressed them most.

CREDIT: Courtesy of CBS Films

Bad Education (Toronto)

Hugh Jackman has become an audacious actor, and he brings an enticing real-world sneakiness to this fact-based drama built around the figure of Frank Tassone — the superintendent of the Roslyn, Long Island, school district, who gets ensnared in a singular scandal. The year is 2002, and Tassones assistant, played with uncaricatured moxie by Allison Janney, is revealed to have embedded a ton of personal expenses — including massive home-renovation costs — in the school-system payroll. A crime, to be sure, but is there a movie in that? As demonstrated by director Cory Finley, working from a script by Mike Makowsky (who went to high school in Roslyn), theres a sensational movie in it: a kind of grubby Lawn Guyland white-collar-crime noir, in which the audience is placed in the position of watching a whirlpool of immorality churn deeper and wider. “Bad Education” tweaks how the obsession with quality schools, in an era of squeezed opportunity, has become both desperate and corrupting. Jackman plays Tassone as an idealistic public servant whos also an impeccable walking mystery — a fallen missionary living a mirage of a life. This is an enthralling drama by a wizardly young filmmaker, featuring one of the most bracing actors we have going. — OG

CREDIT: Focus Features

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (Toronto)

Tom Hanks plays Fred Rogers, the cardigan-sweatered childrens TV legend, and hes transporting. He makes you believe in this too-nice-for-words man whos all about believing. The movie, directed by Marielle Heller (“Can You Ever Forgive Me?”) and based on Tom Junods 1998 Esquire story, is about how Rogers comes to know — and rescue — Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys), a New York magazine writer whos been assigned to do a feature on him. Rogers, as Hanks plays him, is the spirit that has gone out of our world, the one that needs to make a comeback. The movie is a soft-hearted fable that works on you in an enchanting way. — OG

Collective

CREDIT: Mary Cybulski

Collective (Venice, Toronto)

Its tough enough to get audiences interested in an outstanding Romanian movie, even when it wins the Palme dOr (the way Christian Mungius “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days” did), so dont expect a big release for Alexaner Nanaus documentary “Collective.” But seek it out if you can, as this dogged exposé of corruption in the aftermath of a deadly nightclub fire shows the power of an independent news media to discredit the fake misinformation being propagated by corrupt politicians. Here, a team of reporters for a sports journal refuse to abandon the story, holding accountable those who profited from the sale of tainted antibacterial products, diluted first by shady vendors, then again by the hospitals that use them. That in turn blows open the big lie of the Romanian medical industry, and the way such practices are endangering the lives of average citizens. Who knew a movie about disinfectant could be so riveting? — PD

Dolemite Is My Name (Toronto)

Pure film-buff candy. Its like a blaxploitation version of “Ed Wood” or “The Disaster Artist” — the story of how Rudy Ray Moore, a middle-aged stand-up comedy has-been in 1970, used a handful of nasty rhymes, a threadbare “pimp” wardrobe, and his hustlers chutzpah to create the character of Dolemite, a doughy version of Willie Dynamite or Black Caesar; he then turned him into the unlikeliest of movie heroes. Written by Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander, who invented the genre of Biopics About People You Wouldnt Make Biopics About, and directed by Craig Brewer (“Hustle & Flow”), the movie is a celebration of the effrontery of African-American showbiz, and it gives Eddie Murphy what may be his finest role since the brashness of his 1980s heyday. The heart of the film is watching Ray stage his so-slapdash-its-nutty independent blaxploitation crime-thriller production — and watching the audience laugh at it and with it. As its title character might put it, “Dolemite is My Name” is a total motherf—kin blast. — OG

Ema

CREDIT: Yorgos Lanthimos

Ema (Venice, Toronto)

Until now, Chilean director Pablo Larraín has been almost single-mindedly focused on stories set in the past, so its something of a shock to discover this radical portrait of modern femininity springing from the same brain that gave us “Jackie” and “No.” “Ema” stars human supernova Mariana Di Girolamo as an anarchic reggaetón dancer whose every action seems to be a test of her place in society: In the opening scene, she stands with a flamethrower, torching traffic lights at dawn. Later, in a shocking montage, she sexually dominates half a dozen characters. But the thing Ema wants most is to experience motherhood, and because her choreographer husband (Gael García Bernal) cant give her that — an early attempt at adoption backfired in a big way — she devises an alternate plan. The movies dance theme frees Larraín and his star from the bounds of literal reality. I cant stop thinking about “Ema” and all the ways it challenged my biases about gender, relationships and female agency. What makes a good mother? Who decides how a woman should behave? “Ema” delivers a smoldering, hyper-sensual punk experience that rocked me the way Pedro Almodóvars earliest movies must have hit audiences back in the 80s. — PD

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CREDIT: Courtesy of Universal

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Hustlers (Toronto)

The wolves of Wall Street may have gotten away with the 2008 financial crisis, but theyre still paying for it in all kinds of ways on film. Thats one of the many reasons its so easy to side with the women of Lorene Scafarias Scorsese-styled “Hustlers,” professional New York strippers who once profited off the boom economy — when slobbering high-rollers tipped generously — and must now resort to “fishing”: Working in packs (with Jennifer Lopez as the magnetic den mother), they go scouting for a rich sucker at the bars, spike his drink and then drag him back to the club, where they run up a tab and steal the guys credit card details. Sound illegal? You bet it was, but the movie reframes the racket as a kind of long-overdue female empowerment — which seems fair when you consider how unfairly this line of work has been depicted on screen all these years. — PD

Joker (Venice, Toronto)

It hasnt even been released yet, and already Todd Phillips hypnotically perverse, ghoulishly gripping mad-villain origin story is controversial enough to feel like some sort of forbidden film. Is it too “dangerous”? Too twisted and ugly and reckless? So beholden to its raging head-case geek antihero that its basically an incel exploitation film in the guise of a big-studio entertainment? Actually, its none of the above. Its a mesmerizing comic-book nightmare that knows full well that the Joker is a bad guy, but understands that villains — in life, and certainly in the movies — tap deep into anti-social undercurrents that civilized filmgoers get an unholy kick out of plugging into. Thats part of what going to the movies — “The Public Enemy,” “Bonnie and Clyde,” “Blue Velvet,” “GoodFellas,” “Natural Born Killers,” “The Dark Knight” — has always been about. The power of Joaquin Phoenixs performance as Arthur Fleck, a more arrested (and screw-loose) version of Travis Bickle, is that Phoenix shows us the terrifying cuckoo logic of a sick puppys descent. Yet the no-hope Gotham City that becomes his cauldron is an unfair place. The movie says, with a chortle of vengeance, that when the world has stopped caring, this can be the result — a killer who thinks hes a clown. — OG

Judy (Telluride, Toronto)

Renée Zellweger plays Judy Garland in 1969, when the 46-year-old singer, with no money and no place to live, agreed to give a series of concerts at Londons Talk of the Town nightclub. She was a wreck, but she sang like the beaten-down, Im-still-here torch-song goddess she was. To say that Zellweger “channels” Garland would be to understate the electricity of her acting; she merges with Garland. With choppy short brown hair and lips she keeps pursing, as if in a state of permanent irony about her desolation, Zellwegers Judy is a hypnotic trouper who only wants whats best — for herself, and for her children, Lorna and Joey Luft (Liza is already grown up). But shes on a druggie roller-coaster of uppers and tranquilizers and booze, the one she got on when the monster mogul Louis B. Mayer put the 15-year-old Judy on diet pills during the shooting of “The Wizard of Oz” (we see flashbacks to that fateful time). And so she keeps lashing out — at anyone who will help her, even her adoring audience. Zellweger, in a heroic performance, shows us the love, the wit, and the compassion that, beneath the bitter unhappiness, were there in Judy to the end. The concert sequences will melt you; theyre full-throttle expressions of beauty coursing through a broken heart. And though the movie has a conventional decorousness about it, its not a whitewash in the way “Bohemian Rhapsody” was. As directed by Rupert Goold, it takes in the full measure of what Judy Garland invented — a way of singing that became, for so many, a way of being. — OG

CREDIT: Courtesy of A24

Just Mercy (Toronto)

A true-life Civil Rights drama that will shake you to your soul. Michael B. Jordan, in a quietly forceful performance, delivers his lines with a kind of quickening calm as Bryan Stevenson, a young African-American lawyer in crisp gray suits and neckties who arrives in Monroe County, Alabama, to take on the cases of death-row inmates who are innocent. The movie is about a culture of execution that has become a system of killing, and the director, Destin Daniel Cretton (“Short Term 12”), finds newly supple ways to deliver a Hollywood knockout punch. As the prisoner Stevenson is defending, Jamie Foxx reminds us why hes a great actor. — OG

The Kingmaker (Venice, Telluride, Toronto)

Child beauty pageant contestants, plastic surgery debacles, gold-plated toilets in blinged-out bathrooms. As a photographer, Lauren Greenfield has changed the way we look at status and excess in the modern world, although her filmmaking career (“Generation Wealth,” “The Queen of Versailles”) has always lagged a step behind, complementing more than it augments her day job. Until now. With “The Kingmaker,” Greenfield set out to capture the opulent life of Philippine icon and self-style matriarch Imelda Marcos, underwritten by late husband Ferdinands failed dictatorship. In the process, she stumbled upon a story about an island where Imelda had forced out the locals in order to create an elaborate nature preserve, now in shambles. But over the several years it took to assemble and edit the documentary, the project took on astonishing power, using the corruption observed abroad to offer a chilling commentary on how “ill-gotten gains” jeopardize our own system as well. — PD

Marriage Story (Venice, Telluride, Toronto)

Its the Noah Baumbach movie weve been waiting for — not another minimalist drama but a major statement, made with so much wit, authority, and spontaneously articulated emotion that it can stand as the divorce drama of our time. Part of the films strategy is to get us pondering, at every turn, which member of this embattled couple is “more right.” Is it Charlie (Adam Driver), a cutting-edge New York theater director who just wants to keep living the life of an artist, husband, and father squirreled away in cozy Park Slope? Or is it Nicole (Scarlett Johansson), the former indie It Girl actress whos divorcing him for what acolytes of “Annie Hall” might regard, at first, as a superficial reason: She wants to move to L.A. and become part of the industry there. Shes breaking up his “New York famiOriginal Article