Last year, in my year-end wrap up essay introducing my top ten films of 2020, I spoke of still being able to find hope, despite all the disheartening things happening in the world.
I’m afraid hope is a little harder for me to come by this time around.
As I write this, we’ve now begun year three locked in a global pandemic. A major reason for that is because so many people have made the decision to act like petulant children.
Various state legislatures around the country, who have made their choice to stand on the same side of history as Bull Connor and George Wallace, have succeeded in stripping protections for voters in an effort to cement minoritarian rule. Meanwhile, those same politicians, with the help of their fellow travelers at the federal level and authoritarian Donald Trump, are doing everything they can to subvert democracy by chipping away at our collective faith in it.
The federal government is fiddling while Rome burns, especially because of two senators in particular who refuse to do the right thing, most likely because doing the wrong thing fills their coffers. (Don’t even get me started on the brokenness of a system that causes basic freedom and democracy to hinge on only two people.)
It’s very likely that the Supreme Court will gut Roe v Wade this year, forcing women in half the country into forced pregnancy. It’s a sick irony that one of my top ten films of last year, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, tackled how hard it was for some women to obtain proper medical care already.
Any solace I’ve been able to come by in the last year has come from my incredible wife and partner, my happy-go-lucky dog, great friends, and, of course, sitting in dark rooms looking at bright walls.
This year’s top ten list includes a movie with a ton of laughs (zero of which, if memory serves, come from punching down); an exuberant celebration of some of the best music ever made; four films that showcase some of our best working filmmakers at the top (or almost the top) of their respective games; a number one film that touched my heart and revived my belief in the power of empathy.
I’ve been writing film criticism for seven years now. Sometimes it feels like I’m spinning my wheels, because (outside of a few dedicated readers, to whom I am greatly appreciative) it doesn’t feel like I’m growing any kind of audience. I’ve also been stymied in a few attempts to make connections in the film criticism world. That’s in part because of my personal loathing of social media self-promotion (and social media in general), and my introvert inclinations.
Despite these reservations that I’m essentially screaming at the raindrops, as a coworker in my very brief period in radio used to say, I think I’m getting better at criticism. I’ll never be perfect, because perfection is impossible. A few days ago, Rae read me a profile of Adam Driver from a few years ago. In it, he’s quoted as saying that there is no right or wrong way when it comes to acting. If that were the case, there would be no magic in it. Every actor would simply come in, do it “the right way,” and that would be that.
I’ve been doing this for seven years, but still, each and every time I sit down in front of the keyboard to wrestle with my thoughts and feelings on a movie, it’s a challenge. I’m pouring everything I have into it, each and every time. Sometimes the results are fruitful. Sometimes I walk away thinking I never really got to the heart of what I wanted to explore. I think that means it’s working. It’s certainly still fulfilling, and I can’t ask for much more than that.
I watched 193 movies this year. That’s significantly less than in the last few years. I’m chalking it up to low-grade depression and another year of not feeling exactly great about walking into movie theaters quite yet. Oh, and watching a hell of a lot of really great TV. Scenes from a Marriage. WandaVision. Anybody out there seen Yellowjackets? Holy shit!
The last big 2021 title I still need to see is Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog, which I have a sneaking suspicion will be an Oscar Best Picture nominee.
Now, without further ado, please see below for my top ten of 2021:
*Note: Each movie title above the picture is a link that will take you to my review of that movie.
10. Barb & Star Go to Vista Del Mar
If you need to laugh (and who the hell doesn’t these days), let Barb and Star into your life. The two outlandish Midwesterners, created and brought to glorious life by Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, and their zany vacation of a lifetime are sure to leave a smile on your face. The best and most surreal moment (of which there are many) of the movie involves two dates in which both Barb and Star go out with the same guy and do exactly the same thing. That includes the background extras standing and moving in identical ways for both dates. Wiig pulls double duty as Star and the movie’s villain, Sharon Fisherman.
9. Spencer
Kristen Stewart gives a career-high performance as Princess Diana on the eve of her leaving Prince Charles. Set over a three-day Christmas holiday weekend, director Pablo Larraín paints a troubled portrait of Lady Di, giving us a window into her psychological anguish. The film begins with the disclaimer that it is a “fable from a true tragedy.” The film is too close to its subject for it’s observations to be anything but speculation, but it ultimately rings with an emotional truth that is devastating.
8. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised)
Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson’s directorial debut is exuberant, joyful, and casts a spotlight on an event nearly lost to history. The wall-to-wall performances from some of the most talented musicians in soul/rock history look and sound incredible. Summer of Soul’s only shortcoming is that there isn’t enough of it. This could have easily been expanded into a limited series event, and it probably still would have left me wanting more.
7. The Green Knight
Director David Lowery is becoming one of indie cinema’s most idiosyncratic storytellers. His adaptation of the 14th century Arthurian legend poem, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is by turns spooky, thrilling, and perplexing. The visual design is sumptuous; of particular note are the creepy and unforgettable effects for the titular character. Dev Patel’s performance as Sir Gawain is the stuff of leading-man legend.
6. Dune
Dune excels as such a technical achievement that it was impossible to leave it off of this list. Director Denis Villeneuve and his creative team manages tone and marshals resources to produce an epic of unimaginable scale. He has created the Lawrence of Arabia of science fiction/fantasy. A few quibbles with the source material aside, I can’t wait to return to Villeneuve’s striking vision for part two of his sword-and-sandworm tale set billions of miles away and thousands of years in the future.
5. The French Dispatch
Speaking of idiosyncrasies, Wes Anderson burrows even deeper (which I didn’t think was possible after The Grand Budapest Hotel ) into his insular and singular imagination for The French Dispatch. An anthology that celebrates and honors the legendary The New Yorker as well as it’s founder and some of it’s most storied contributors, Anderson’s film is an absolute feast for the senses. His erudite sensibilities and visual aesthetic are a wonder, and they keep paying dividends with each successive viewing.
4. Licorice Pizza
Nobody can recreate a time and place cinematically – especially when that time and place is the San Fernando Valley circa 1970 – like Paul Thomas Anderson. An incredibly rich mood and performances to match make Licorice Pizza the best hang-out movie of the year, hell, maybe the decade. The cinephile debate among straight, white, cis-gender men rages on about which is the better Anderson, Wes or P.T. Can’t we all just get along and agree that they’re both phenomenal in their own unique ways?
3. The Card Counter
Iconic filmmaker Paul Schrader is back after his late-career renaissance with 2018’s First Reformed. As in that movie, things get dark and ugly in The Card Counter, about a War-on-Terror vet who only wants to be free of the trauma that his government saddled him with during his service. Schrader, who literally wrote the book on Transcendental Cinema, uses his unparalleled skill with Slow Cinema aesthetics to create a haunting portrait of haunted people. There’s a glimmer of hope here, mostly through the connection that Oscar Isaac’s Will makes with Tiffany Haddish’s La Linda, but in the films of Schrader, there’s always a price to be paid for true freedom.
2. The Tragedy of Macbeth
In Joel Coen’s first effort sans his lifelong creative partner and brother, Ethan, the director turns the Shakespeare play The Tragedy of Macbeth into a horrifying vision of greed and hubris. With an aesthetic heavily influenced by the German Expressionism movement of the early 1920s, every frame radiates an odd and discomfiting beauty. Stellar performances by Denzel Washington in the titular role, Frances McDormand as Lady Macbeth, and Kathryn Hunter – don’t dare forget Kathryn Hunter – as all three of the weird sisters, make Coen’s Macbeth an absolute triumph.
1. C’mon C’mon
It was a close call for what would top my list. I thought it was settled after seeing C’mon C’mon, Mike Mills’s newest examination of human emotion and connection. Then along came The Tragedy of Macbeth. The two films circled round and round in my ruminations on what should make number one. In the end, I fell for Macbeth, but I absolutely swooned for C’mon C’mon. Mills is the foremost cinematic chronicler of empathy and what it means to be human. C’mon C’mon, about a shy radio journalist who has the responsibility of his nine-year-old nephew thrust upon him by a family emergency, tugged at my heartstrings. The tender, humanistic lead performances from Joaquin Phoenix and Woody Norman, as Johnny and Jessie, respectively, ground the film and make their characters feel lived-in. Johnny screws up plenty while raising Jessie on the road, and Jessie is a bit of a spoiled brat at times. It’s those character flaws that make the movie feel all the more authentic.
The rest of the best:
Like the last two years (and likely continuing indefinitely), I’m expanding my list to include my top 25 of the year. I’m not going to comment on them at all. I’ll simply list them and link to my reviews, where available. If any of them grab your attention, check ‘em out: