Beautifully written, performed and crafted, A Most Violent Year once again features standout work by filmmaker J.C. Chandor in this absorbing, morally relevant thriller about how corruption can stain even those with the noblest of intentions.

One of the best filmmakers that never got enough love was Sidney Lumet. From 12 Angry Men to Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, Lumet’s films entertained, moved and illuminated with their strong characters and ethically rich heart. Yet despite such a great filmography, Lumet’s name is not lauded enough while the likes of Scorsese and Coppola continue to be praised.

J.C. Chandor reminds in many ways of Lumet. While Chandor’s films have much more in the way of style, his stories are also rich in character and morality, and are not given enough praise as last years All is Lost, and now A Most Violent Year has proven.

The third feature in Chandor’s already impressive filmography, A Most Violent Year is set in 1981 New York City, where the number of violent incidents hit a record high. The film focuses on Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac) a Latin American immigrant who runs his expanding oil heating company with a stern yet ethically rich position.

When a mysterious enemy targets his business and family during the midst of a large and risky business deal, Abel tries to avoid the trappings of fighting violence with violence, a feat not made easy by the goading of his violently motivated mob wife Anna (Jessica Chastain).

Both Isaac and Chastain are spectacular in their roles. Isaac especially continues to impress with his performance as Abel his best yet, combining internal angst with external fire that reminds of vintage Al Pacino. Isaac’s portrayal of a good man trying not to do bad things while in the pursuit of the ultimate American dream – power and wealth – is one that sticks with you,  with Abel’s gutsy virtue and resistance towards a world succumbed to corruption and violence one that garners a deeply felt admiration.

Chastain brilliantly plays the opposite, all pistol packing, Armani wearing attitude who contemplates Isaac’s simmering chill with fiery temper.

Chandor’s golden touch with his actors is boosted by his talents as a screenwriter, creating scenarios and dialogue that pop with both intelligent and emotional complexity, especially in his threading of heavy moral questions amidst the gripping thrills and excellent drama, especially when it comes to the question of how long virtue can sustain itself the higher it travels up the echelons of power.

Complete with Bradford Young’s crisp, deep, gorgeous photography, and Chandor has delivered a polished work that dives into deep, murky narrative territory. Current awards bodies may not laud his much deserving talents, yet time will prove just how great a filmmaker Chandor is.