If your name is Gaius Julius Caesar, and if you happen to control a good portion of western Europe, then I suggest you beware the Ides of March. I don’t know why I felt like saying that, it just seems as if it will be a good time for bad things to happen to you.

One of my favorite movies of all time is No Man’s Land, a wonderfully simple, painfully farcical, and frustratingly poignant study of three things: the futility of war, the suffering of the individuals who fight them, and the uphill struggle that very decent people tirelessly battle when they try to alleviate that suffering. It’s the remarkable meshing of all those elements—wonderful, simple, painful, farcical, frustrating, poignant—that elevates it from a humble movie into an overwhelming jab at the ethical ribs. It does not rely on heartbreaking Shakespearean monologues that drive you to shed half a reservoir full of tears; it does not employ glitzy, visually ambitious cinematography to distract you from the story; it does not indulge in gore and violence to sicken you into sympathy. It may be the best war movie with a blood quota of half a pint, or simply the best war movie ever. This concludes an objective, wholly unbiased movie review. Now go watch it and be changed for life.