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Any film that can transcend the bounds of its undeniably terrible title deserves commendation. Any film that can garner polarizing stump of an actress Kristen Stewart the Cesár Award, making her the first American woman to do so, is nothing short of a miracle. And a film in which astounding performances, a breathtaking setting, and a self-referential commentary on the modern state of cinema coalesce is truly one to remember. Directed and written by Olivier Assayas, “Clouds of Sils Maria” proves itself to be a complex, wistful examination of the psychological risks of working in a profession that fetishizes youth and sometimes blurs the line between fantasy and reality. Though the many layers of Assayas’s meta-fictional narrative occasionally threaten to cloud the proceedings with confusion, the generally superb cast and cinematography shine throughout.

The film follows the late career of Maria Enders (Juliette Binoche), an actress who rocketed to stardom after starring in William Melchior’s play “Maloja Snake” in the role of young ingenue who begins an affair with her older female boss, eventually driving her to suicide. After Melchior dies, a middle-aged Maria is approached to appear in the revival of the same show, now in the opposite role. Retreating to the idyllic mountainside town of Sils Maria, she rehearses with trusted companion and confidante Valentine (Kristen Stewart) and unearths her latent insecurities regarding their relationship, her waning career, and her own mortality.

Assayas is no stranger to dissecting the nature of celebrity, having done so previously in his critically-acclaimed satire “Irma Vep” (1996). Here, however, he uses the celestial Swiss vantage to reinforce the underlying theme of the film. Assayas imbues his shots with a soft white light, his dialogue interspersed with images of the snow-covered mountains and the crystal blue lakes of the Alps. His simple, fade-to-black tactics serve as transitions between the film’s three parts, each scene dissipating into the next like the titular clouds, delicate and ephemeral. The serene environment and ghostly shifts refreshingly render the film more of a musing on the isolation of growing older than a scathing, explicit critique on current attitudes toward women in Hollywood.

As Maria, Binoche delivers a near-flawless performance. Having worked with Assayas on 2008’s “Summer Hours,” she is clearly at ease onscreen exploring her character’s increasingly mercurial temperament. Whether unleashing a raucous laugh or weeping as she comes to terms with her age, Binoche commands every scene, her robust sexuality and thin veneer of self-confidence her sword and shield. She is at once elegant, charming, and bitterly sardonic, a gourmet wedding cake laced with arsenic. For her part, Stewart is believable as Valentine, the quick-witted, grounded counterpart to Maria. As seen in “Into the Wild” (2007) and “Adventureland” (2009), she possesses the ability to churn out a moving performance. And yet, she only impresses when she plays characters nearly identical to her offscreen persona: those in a perpetual state of discomfort, amalgamations of lip-biting, clenched teeth, and self-doubting fidgets. While her appearance in “Clouds” is admittedly poignant, it marks yet another instance when Kristen Stewart is essentially playing a slightly more endearing Kristen Stewart.

Of course, “Clouds” is not entirely blue skies. Chloe Grace Moretz’s portrayal of Jo-Ann Ellis, a talented, troubled time-bomb of a starlet set to take on Maria’s former role, is middling at best. Moretz’s flurry of snarls and curses ring half-hearted; if Jo-Ann is a firecracker, Moretz is a five-cent sparkler. But that could be Assayas’s fault: The stilted dialogue and almost cartoonish depiction of Jo-Ann that he gives Moretz to work with attests to his disdain for celebrity culture and big-budget blockbusters, which seems to get in the way of actually portraying a subtle, believable character.

Additionally, the fact that “Maloja Snake” eerily mirrors Maria and Val’s dynamic raises a number of questions—Is Val leading Maria on? Does Maria consider Val an equal or simply someone to convince her that she is still relevant?—which obfuscate rather than enhance the story. While Assayas’s efforts to pack his film with allusions, parallelisms, and the odd, heavy-handed metaphor are impressive, attempting to interpret them all not only feels exhausting but also muddles the true strength of the film: the two stellar performances.

Indeed, when Assayas puts his hand to symbolism, he seems to carve against the grain of the film. The Maloja Snake refers to a meteorological phenomenon in which clouds slither through the valleys of the Alps, silently and steadily enveloping everything in their path. Similarly, “Clouds of Sils Maria” rarely bombards the audience with a clear message; instead, the film merely outlines a plethora of ideas and allows viewers to interpret them as they will. Binoche, Stewart, and the Swiss Alps are all luminous, but it is what “Clouds” lacks— some grand, moralizing conclusion—that makes the film remarkable. Sometimes, it seems, the clouds speak louder than the storm itself.