Archive for February, 2021

Favorite films of 2020

“For many of my friends, 2019 was a rough year. At the rate 2020 is going, this year may not be better.” I wrote that last January. I’m not sure I have anything to add. I certainly had no idea what 2020 had in store. All I will say is that I am more hopeful for 2021, and I hope to get back to reviewing more this year.

I saw far, far fewer films than I normally do. Therefore, I will not do my usual top 35. Since it was 2020, I decided to list 20 films. I make even less claim that these are the greatest films of last year, partially because of the ones I have yet to see (Minari and Nomadland among others), but also after a year of a pandemic and quarantine, I’m more interested in the films that moved me the most than the ones that are most technically excellent.

Honorable Mentions:

20. On the Rocks (Sofia Coppola) – When Laura (Rashida Jones) starts to think her husband Dean (Marlon Wayans) is acting strangely, she makes the mistake of confiding in her philandering father (Bill Murray) who assumes the worst and tries to convince Laura to join him in an increasingly elaborate spying scheme to prove Dean’s infidelity. Murray is fantastic as the ultimate privileged, rich white man, and his antics are hilarious, but the final act turnaround gives a meaningful perspective about the cost of affairs and broken relationships.

19. Little Fish (Chad Hartigan) – A story of a pandemic that causes people to panic and try foolhardy self-cures might seem painfully potent for 2020. However, the role that memory plays in shaping our view of the world and how we react when we lose that turns this into both a romance and a thriller with surprising poignancy as no one can be sure of what they know, and therefore must cherish what they have even more.

18. Bad Education (Cory Finley) – A true story of student investigate journalism exposing and toppling a school’s administrative system of embezzlement and corruption, except it is told from the point of view of the embezzlers (Allison Janey and Hugh Jackman, both excellent). It’s a fascinating choice, and one that provides an engaging dramatic twist as we slowly realize the corruption of the antihero protagonists who bring about their own downfall.

17. The Truth (Hirokazu Kore-eda) – The truth is subjective. It’s not, but memory is, and memory can change what we believe is true. Or in the case of Fabienne (Catherine Deneuve), whose recently published autobiography upsets her daughter Lumir (Juliette Binoche) with its omissions and falsehoods, the truth is whatever is most convenient for her. The relationship between mother and daughter takes on several dynamics as Lumir’s family visits her mother, grandmother and granddaughter bond, and Fabienne’s latest sci-fi film about motherhood casts new light on her own relationships. Kore-eda’s first European film is as gentle as most of his others while never allowing the characters to escape from the actual truth.

16. Shirley (Josephine Decker) – In some ways a remake of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, this biopic about Shirley Jackson also plays like one of her horror stories. With fantastic performances from Elisabeth Moss and Michael Stuhlbarg, the painful process of creation and the toll it takes on the artist and her subjects is thrilling to behold.

Runners-up:

15. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (Eliza Hittman) – The single-take title sequence of this film is probably my favorite scene in any film this year. It’s a moving example of compassion in a horrible situation. The rest of the film is likewise an exercise in compassion as it follows the road trip of two high school girls to procure an abortion. The abortion is a done deal, but the heart of the film is the relationship between the two cousins and their support and love for one another regardless of what decisions they make.

14. Young Ahmed (Jean Pierre & Luc Dardenne) – The dangers of religious fundamentalism and the impressionability of youth are the focus of the latest film from the Dardenne brothers. When Ahmed (Idir Ben Addi) begins learning the Quran from an extremist, the welcoming, charitable faith of his family and teacher starts to repel him. The Dardennes do not soft pedal where the tragedy of that repulsion leads, while always focusing on the loss of childhood innocence as well as true faith being replaced and corrupted by the fundamentalist misinterpretation.

13. Small Axe: Mangrove (Steve McQueen) – In America, we rarely hear about Britain’s civil rights movement, cases of police brutality there, and its own systemic injustice. After making the first movie to dramatize the American slave experience with his best picture winner 12 Years a Slave, Steve McQueen dramatizes the experience of the Black British citizens in the 1960s and ’70s. As the police routinely target the titular restaurant for no reason other than racism, it is impossible not to sympathize with the plight of the owner and the British Black Panthers. The film transitions flawlessly into a courtroom drama, where the challenge to white power by black voices in a society built to silence them can finally be heard.

12. Sound of Metal (Darius Marder) – When punk metal drummer Ruben (Riz Ahmed) begins to lose his hearing, the adjustment he must make to living as a deaf man is one that he resists. His girlfriend and co-performer’s (Olivia Cooke) support give him the courage to start the journey, but accepting his new state of life is much harder. The portrayal of the deaf community is beautiful and affirming, but whether Ruben can come to see that remains as clouded as his hearing.

11. Wolfwalkers (Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart) – Celtic faerie tales clash with English settlers in Tomm Moore’s third animated masterpiece about Irish folklore. As in The Secret of Kells, wall-building authority figures are challenged by the innocence of childhood and the wonder of the supernatural. The marriage of two worlds, wolves and humans, effectively challenges the notion of blindly following orders and acting out of fear as young Robyn (Honor Kneafsey) and her father (Sean Bean) become closer to the wolves they hunt than they could have imagined. The animation is gorgeous, and the mythical world building as timely as ever.

The Top Ten

10. What the Constitution Means to Me (Marielle Heller) – Different perspectives are a recurring theme in many of the movies that meant the most to me this year, and Heidi Schreck’s play recalling her high school debates about the constitution and how she feels about it now provides a perspective that is different than at least half of this country’s. It’s a stirring example of patriotism, showing love for our country and anger at the ways its laws have been abused. In a time when division only seems to be increasing, Heller’s film hopefully shows ways in which we can be united even when we have very different interpretations of the constitution.

9. The Prom (Ryan Murphy) – I think I’m obligated to include one musical in my top ten, and The Prom is the best musical of 2020. Sorry, Hamilton fans. Ryan Murphy’s adaptation of this underdog story is as energetic and heartfelt as it should be. The musical—about a lesbian high schooler whose school board cancels the prom instead of letting her attend and the quartet of down on their luck Broadway actors who decide to make her their cause célèbre—is the epitome of a feel-good story. As my friend Ken Morefield said, it ears every laugh and every tear. Meryl Streep’s narcissistic diva threatens to steal the show, but the music and the story truly make it all about Emma (Jo Ellen Pellman) and how we treat those who are different from us.

8. The Vast of Night (Andrew Patterson) – This is Close Encounters of the Third Kind in the style of David Lynch. In other words, it’s precisely the type of film that I love. The atmosphere of mystery, fear, and wonder is pitched perfectly throughout the film. The film is a story of unknown frequencies taking over a switchboard and radio station the night of a high school basketball game, and framing it as a 1950s TV episode adds an Americana element that heightens both the aura and sense of unease as the protagonists try to figure out what is out there beyond them.

7. Yes, God, Yes (Karen Maine) – I don’t think there was any film from last year which hit closer to home than this for me, mostly in a Catholic weekend retreat full of sanctimonious piety. When Catholic high schooler Alice (Natalia Dyer) finds herself on the receiving end of a perverse rumor, the assumptions that follow expose the hypocrisy and shortcomings of an overly-simplistic, fundamentalist approach to religion. While writer/director Karen Maine definitely has something of a legitimate axe to grind against legalistic religious beliefs, her film is hardly anti-religion as Alice learns other ways to follow God than what she’s been taught. (full review)

6. Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets (Bill Ross IV & Turner Ross) – One of the two best documentaries of the year, the Ross brothers capture the final night of a closing bar in Las Vegas. As we watch the regular customers shoot the breeze, sing, flirt, dance, drink, and celebrate for the last time at this particular bar, the humanity of each participant always remains forefront, even as the night wears on and the liquor flows more freely. No 2020 film exists more in the moment than this, and that ability to appreciate the present for what it is without romanticizing the past or worrying about an uncertain future is what makes each moment so powerful and memorable.

5. Da 5 Bloods (Spike Lee) – A sprawling Vietnam epic about the trauma of the past never truly being past. That goes not only for the four surviving Vietnam vets and their memories of fighting in the war, but also for America’s history of racism and the discriminatory treatment of black soldiers in the ’60s. As the four surviving bloods reconvene in Vietnam to find a cask of gold they were transporting in the war, the film becomes a tribute to American classics like The Treasure of the Sierra Madre and Apocalypse Now, but it more importantly retells those stories through the experience of its black protagonists. At the heart of the film are the relationships that racism and war have damaged, as evidenced by Chadwick Boseman’s deceased Stormin’ Noman whose memory holds the bloods together from beyond the grave.

4. Dick Johnson Is Dead (Kirsten Johnson) – Kirsten Johnson’s moving tribute to her dying father (Dick Johnson) and cinema itself is easily my favorite documentary of the year. Kirsten admits she is making time capsules to remember her father, but the film also serves as a sharing of careers as she and her father reenact different types of movie deaths and talk about his work as a psychiatrist. The moments of family life are beautifully captured, and it’s nearly impossible not to crave chocolate cake after a birthday scene. Kirsten’s staging a funeral for her still living father may raise some eyebrows, but the communal love and the ways cinema can bring us together and heal us are what tie the proceeding perfectly into the rest of the film.

3. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (George C. Wolfe) – The very best type of stage adaptation, one that maintains the staginess of its source material while making maximum use of cinematic techniques. Wolfe captures the drama and intensity of August Wilson’s play about what it means to be a black musician in a white man’s world, and the phenomenal cast is more than up for delivering the monologues and increasingly tense exchanges. Ma Rainey (Viola Davis) has reached a level of fame that she is not afraid to use to stand up for herself and others, even if it gets her labeled as “difficult to work with.” A day in a recording session of the titular song reveals not only how much harder a black musician has to work for recognition, but the grueling discouragement the less famous have to endure. It is most noticeable with Levee (Chadwick Boseman), the band’s equally talented but far less famous trumpet player, and how his desires lead him to clash with his fellow musicians instead of the system that refuses to give him a chance.

2. First Cow (Kelly Reichardt) – “The rich exist for the sake of the poor,” said St. John Chrysostom, “but the poor exist for the salvation of the rich.” Watching Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow—a tale of survival and friendship about a pioneer and cook (John Magaro) and the Chinese immigrant (Orion Lee) with whom he sets up an unorthodox business—with that sentiment in mind colors this story of entrepreneurship. The rich man is Toby Jones’ Chief Factor, who owns the only cow in the Oregon settlement. When the two protagonists decide to steal some of its milk to sell miniature cakes what begins as a means of survival becomes an opportunity for greed to set in. The bonds of friendship may transcend material possessions, and at its heart, this film is a beautiful story of friendship as necessary to survival; however, the bondage to capital and to whomever has the most of it haunts not only our protagonists but the world for generations.

1. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Céline Sciamma) – For most critics this was a 2019 film. For me, it was the last film I saw in theaters in 2020 before everything shut down due to COVID. I’m still amazed that I was fortunate enough to see an extraordinary film about art, the creative process, and the ways that art shapes how we view the world. When painter Marianne (Noémie Merlant) is hired to covertly paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel) in order to secure an arranged marriage that the latter wishes to avoid, what begins as a manipulative and contractual relationship is transformed by the art highlighting the humanity and dignity of both painter and subject. With women having been subjected to male gaze since the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus, the need for feminism in art and any male dominated fields comes to the forefront as different perspectives enrich the way we see the world.

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