It is the early 1940s in the Australian outback, where Sister Eileen (Cate Blanchett) capably and compassionately runs a mission for orphaned Aboriginal boys. She’s upset that she must send the boys away from the mission to work at age 14 due to the lack of available men—many are off fighting in the Second World War. One evening, a 10-year-old (Aswan Reid) is placed in her care. He speaks no English but possesses a natural curiosity and easily ingratiates himself. There’s also perhaps something genuinely supernatural about him, which both enthralls and terrifies Sister Eileen.

The new film by Aboriginal filmmaker Warwick Thornton explores the forced assimilation of Aboriginal children into Western society and religion and the tragedy that unfolds when these children lose their sense of belonging. Yet this is far from a rageful cry or political screed. Instead, it is an achingly beautiful, mournful account of human folly.

Blanchett gives a typically inspired performance, encompassing deep compassion within a character teetering between confidence and insecurity. We learn fairly early on that the priest who once ran the mission has died, and Sister Eileen has been writing letters to her superiors under his name—because in 1940s Australia, there’s no conceivable way she could inherit the mantle, even though she clearly deserves it and seems to wear it well. But there are cracks. She drinks too much wine. She offers tortured confessions to a chair representing Don Pedro, prostrating herself before it, berating herself. She has no one to confess to, so she creates someone. She is clearly a tormented soul even before the new boy arrives.

Meanwhile, the New Boy (he is never given a name, as he has not yet been baptized) follows Sister Eileen around, shyly walking his fingers across the counter to sneak a bit of jam from a jar, and occasionally rubbing his fingers together to conjure a small, glowing light that flits about like a playful Tinkerbell. What he does with that light is what sends the mission into a tizzy. While it initially elates Sister Eileen, the caretaker George (Wayne Blair) is more wary, muttering “medicine man” as he passes by. Still, even he can’t resist the charm of this young, inscrutable boy. And Aswan Reid is indeed charming and adorable: With a mop of brownish-blonde hair and the biggest eyes in the universe, he is a true find. There’s a naturalness and gentleness in him that’s rare for young performers, and the camera absolutely loves him. He holds his own effortlessly with Blanchett—not a simple feat.

What binds this all together is Thornton’s vision. The New Boy is stunningly photographed by the director—easily the most beautiful film I’ve seen this year. It has a mystical, ever-so-slightly otherworldly quality reminiscent of fellow Aussie Peter Weir. Like Weir, Thornton trusts his visuals to do much of the storytelling. Dialogue is sparse, which makes the spoken words resonate all the more. Thornton is comfortable moving at his own pace. Though the film runs only an hour and a half, it takes its time getting where it needs to go. The story is rich with nuance and compassion, and when it reaches its conclusion, you understand every choice made—no matter how heartbreaking.