Some films shout. Others whisper. Shepherds and Butchers doesn’t do either. It stares you down and waits for you to flinch. This is one of the finest courtroom and moral injury dramas most people have never heard of. That is not an accident. It is a consequence of a film that refuses to pander, refuses to sermonize, and refuses to dumb itself down for distracted audiences. The acting is uniformly exceptional. Not “good for a foreign film.” Exceptional, period. The performances feel lived-in, not performed. The accents matter because they are real. The silences matter because they are earned. An imported A-list American cast would have turned this into dialect theater. Instead, the filmmakers trusted actors who understood the world they were portraying. That decision carries the entire film. The story is devastating in its restraint. Rather than attacking capital punishment head-on, the film exposes the psychological wreckage left behind. Not just on the condemned, but on the men tas...