Atlantics takes place in an unnamed seaside suburb of Dakar. Dust rises from the ground by day, the streets are full of people, cars are on the move, and workers build a brand-new skyscraper that seems at odds with the town around it. There is wealth, though we are not introduced to it immediately, and most of the residents are of modest means. People climb in and out of windows liberally—it is not easy to keep anyone in one place. The sea, of course, is omnipresent, and we are reminded frequently of its presence, whether by crashing waves or an eerie stillness at night.

This is Mati Diop’s first feature and an exciting achievement. Diop is probably best known to American audiences for her brilliant, seemingly effortless performance in Claire Denis’s film 35 Shots of Rum (2008). She is also the niece of Senegalese director Djibril Diop Mambéty, most famous for Touki Bouki (1973). Comparisons to the two filmmakers are inevitable, yet Diop has very much her own voice, and one of her great strengths is to capture a sense of place. We have an immediate, sensory connection to this town, as though we can taste the dust or smell the sea, which Diop so frequently cuts to. The soundscape is equally rich with voices, cars, and a subtle yet effective score by Fatima Al Qadiri.

The story is fairly simple on the surface—in many ways it resembles a classic fairy tale. A group of construction workers, at work on the previously mentioned tower, depart on a boat, presumably in search of better opportunities in Europe. Among them is Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré), a young man who is in love with Ada (Mama Sané). Ada is trapped in an arranged marriage to a rich man (Babacar Sylla) and yearns for Souleiman to return, though her friends don’t seem so optimistic. A supernatural dimension to the story emerges slowly, upsetting the balance of the city and the plans of those in power.

To some viewers, the narrative of Atlantics might feel slack. Though Ada is subjected to several indignities, including an arranged marriage, a virginity test, relentless questioning by a certain police officer, and is briefly put in jail, she does not feel quite so trapped as, say, the Turkish teenagers in Mustang, whose tyrannical uncle literally shuts them in his house.

Ada, from the moment we meet her, is determined to go her own way and is quite capable of doing so, whether this means slipping out of windows and away from her family’s grasp or openly defying her husband in public. Furthermore, at her wedding, one of her friends tries to talk her out of the marriage, seeing how unhappy she is—apparently, backing out of an arranged marriage is an option, though a questionable and difficult one. On a similar note, the tycoon who denies the construction workers of the high rise their pay appears late enough in the film that some viewers will have completely forgotten him and won’t be able to see him as a truly dangerous figure.

However, this is one of the most arresting aspects of Atlantics, that those in power, whether they are tycoons, rich husbands-to-be, or the police, are incapable of keeping anyone or anything under control. The world itself seems to be convulsing, yielding to the spectral presence of the angry construction workers and to Ada’s irrepressible yearning to love and live on her own terms. Change, we are led to believe, is imminent.

Images upon images are striking, whether it is of women tossing and turning from a fever that looks orgasmic, clouds of smoke billowing above the city, or the sun rising above the sea. It is hard not to feel satisfied as the film comes to its close.

While I am glad that Netflix is making the film widely available, it’s a pity that its theatrical release is so limited. I worry that it will sink into the ether of the internet, where there are so many options that it can feel like there are none, and where viewers are so much more likely to watch a film as they do something else. This movie will richly reward your intention, and I encourage you to add it to the top of your queue.