Over the past few years, the online landscape has been flooded by short documentaries. As such, it has become harder and harder for a film to stand out in such a saturated landscape, requiring not only a refined sense of craft but also a very compelling subject and polished visual aesthetic. Manuale Abramovich’s The Queen is the rare film to have all three: a haunting, visceral journey into the world of child beauty pageants.

But, this isn’t some Hard Copy sort of PSA—it’s not an “issue” documentary that screams its message. Instead, it’s a surprisingly detached and experimental journey into a disturbing world. We follow our protagonist, Memi, as she goes through her routine, her expression one of permanent detachment. And, thus, without any postulating or moralizing we are given a profound sense of empathy for this young girl—a kid who in her efforts to become “queen of the carnival” seems, in reality, profoundly unhappy.

At 18 minutes, this is a long short—one with a measured pace that may try an online viewer’s already short attention span. But, if you invest yourself, it’s an incredibly gripping experience. The film’s climax—as Memi has her crown prepped—is harder to watch than most horror films: uncomfortable, tortuous, and emotionally brutal. It’s shocking, but also not a moment played for shock-value. Abramovich lets the Cinéma vérité moment play out with a painful sense of patience. All of Memi’s stoicism has led to this moment, and thus, it’s all the more chilling to hear her screams of pain.

Rightfully so, The Queen has been a heralded documentary on the festival circuit, sweeping up accolades across the world. Considering how many docs we screen, watching one as powerful as this is a figurative punch in gut—an experience we will have trouble forgetting anytime soon.