Favorite Films of 2021

I saw far fewer movies than normal last year. I don’t think I even broke one hundred. As a result, I was debating whether I should even bother with a favorites of 2021 list. So, as with all important questions, I took a Twitter poll, and seven people voted that they wanted me to do this. For the sake of those seven, here are the films that impressed and stayed with me the most over the past year.

A lot of things happened last year. I got a new job and moved halfway across the country. I completed by doctorate. Both those things were time consuming and I missed several releases as a result. One of those was Dune; I still haven’t had a chance to catch up with it.

I was going to watch more movies in the first weeks of January, but then I got COVID and had to stay home. I missed Memoria because of that. At least I was able to catch up with a lot of streaming options, and I think I did a pretty decent job of that.

Finally, I’m obligated to note that there were a lot of movie musicals last year. Many of them you will see on the list below. Dear Evan Hansen you will not. And with that, here are my favorite films of 2021.

Good films worth noting (30-21):

Bergman Island, Last Night in Soho, Titane, A Quiet Place: Part II, Spencer, Procession, House of Gucci, Nightmare Alley, Benedetta, Shiva Baby

Honorable Mentions:

20. The Novice (Lauren Hadaway) – A freshman (Isabelle Fuhrman) with a type-A+ work ethic pushes herself to be the best on her college’s rowing team, and a psychological and physical breakdown ensues. More than a mere cautionary tale against perfectionism, the masterful marriage of imagery and sound places the viewer in Alex’s (Fuhrman) mental space, as the relationships she prioritizes come to the forefront of the film.

19. Cruella (Craig Gillespie) – I truly do not understand the hatred this film got. Yes, the premise sounded terrible, but it was from a writer of The Favourite, the director of Lars and the Real Girl, the trailer had major Batman Returns vibes, and it starred two fantastic actresses who delivered delightful scenery chewing performances. It may or may not have been an origin story for the puppy killer Cruella de Vil (although a sequel could easily get Stone’s antihero there), but it was the most fun I had at the movies all of last year.

18. Undine (Christian Petzold) – A beautiful myth and story of sacrifice that suggests the unification of anything always comes at a cost. The reworking of the myth into present day Berlin reminds us the wounds of WWII are still not completely healed, just as the world of the water nymph and the human cannot be completely reconciled.

17. The Mitchells vs. The Machines (Michael Rianda) – A crazy rollercoaster of a film about the importance of family, learning from everyone, and appreciating who we are, even when that makes us “different.” When a robot apocalypse plans to eradicate humankind, the ultimate dysfunctional family all has to learn lessons about their unique gifts to save the world. The premise and execution are bonkers, but Olivia Colman’s evil phone and the unorthodox quality family time make it a joy-filled trip worth taking.

16. Pray Away (Kristine Stolakis) – The testimonies of several survivors of conversion therapy recount their experiences of coming out and reckoning with their sexualities in a culture where it was taken for granted you should “pray away” the gay. The examples of grief and repentance from former conversion therapy leaders at the harm they caused are truly remarkable instances of contrition, and the culmination of the testimonies with a lesbian church wedding shows that true faith and queer acceptance are not opposed to one another.

Runners-up:

15. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson) – The 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival was billed as “the Black Woodstock” in an attempt to garner the same coverage and excitement, but America had moved on, and all the footage shot then was forgotten until this past year. Assembling the “lost” footage into a documentary, director Questlove delivers a front-row seat to a first-rate concert of Black musicians, but he also does so much more. Intercutting the archived footage with interviews, he highlights the ways that gospel, jazz, blues, and other Black music has shaped communities, given a voice to the voiceless, and challenged the norms of white America. The concert culminates with a performance by Nina Simone, and her artistry and song choices could not be a more perfect climax.

14. Mass (Fran Kranz) – “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there with them.” The two couples in Mass may not be gathered in Jesus’ name, but they are gathered at an Episcopal church, and they’re gathered for some sort of healing, although none of them know what that looks like. The Mass is a sacrifice, as is this gathering and the memories of the horror that induced it. What’s truly remarkable about Mass is the empathy it engenders for all its characters and the way the catharsis extends not only to them but to the viewer as well. By the time the dismissal happens, the viewer truly understands what it means to go in peace and what cost that entails.

13. Licorice Pizza (Paul Thomas Anderson) – I’ve gone back and forth on this film, but what ultimately won me over is the idea that Gary (Cooper Hoffman) and Alana (Alana Haim) are two stand-ins for anyone who’s ever been in a relationship that’s less than ideal, but still deeply care about the other person. Gary and Alana’s relationship is certainly not ideal, but there’s also a sense of innocence in a world of cynical fakes. And to be sure, no relationship in Licorice Pizza is ideal; perhaps that’s the relationship to the mysterious title. Gary and Alana may be fakes as well, but they’re ones who hustle for each other and others’ happiness and not their own interests.

12. The Tragedy of Macbeth (Joel Coen) – Joel Coen’s first feature without his brother Ethan, this is visually one of his most stunning films. Shot in gorgeous black and white and anchored by two solid performances from Denzel Washington and Frances McDormand, Shakespeare’s tragedy unfolds briskly as Coen trims the play to its most essential lines. It’s not an unorthodox choice for adapting Shakespeare, but it works here, because it matches the tightness of the visual imagery. Stealing the screen is Kathryn Hunter as the three witches, whose appearances to Macbeth perfectly foreshadow his encroaching doom.

11. In the Heights (John M. Chu) – The stroke of genius to this musical adaptation is having Usnavi (Anthony Ramos) tell his story and the story of Washington Heights to a group of children rather than breaking the fourth wall as he did in the stage show. It preserves the story for the next generation, it organically maintains the theatricality of the source material without becoming contrived, and it connects the story across generations as well. The rest of Lin Manuel Miranda’s musical transfers pretty effortlessly to the big screen, with stunning production numbers that celebrate the Dominican Republic, our dreams, our loves, and our vocations.

The Top Ten

10. The Last Duel (Ridley Scott) – Of the two period pieces about the horrors of toxic masculinity and not believing women (this and Benedetta) and of the two Ridley Scott flicks released year, The Last Duel is the one that stood out above both. The Rashomon-style storytelling illuminates the truth and just how much one’s desire to be the hero of their own story can lead to dangerous and harmful assumptions that hurt the most vulnerable, as can be seen from the flawed perspectives that form the first two narratives. When the corrective third narrative occurs, we’re not supposed to believe it just because the protagonist is a woman, but because of the ways her narrative confirms what each man has already told us about himself.  Framing the film is the titular last duel fought in France, reminding us of what it means to live in a world where might makes right.

9. Pig (Michael Sarnoski) – When a radical act of mercy and forgiveness serves as the climax of a film, the love it has for all its characters is apparent. When that act references Babette’s Feast, Chef, and Ratatouille, the love extends not only to the characters but to our enemies, our vocations, and our pets. Pig is a film that defies easy conventional descriptions, but its one constant is the love and mercy that permeates it. Part buddy road trip, part mystery, part comedy, part neo-noir, the blend of styles and genres come together around a fantastic performance from Nicolas Cage, whose commitment to what he loves at any personal sacrifice makes all the genres work. The gradual revelation of the blissful past makes the sins of the present harder to bear, but it also makes the merciful response to them all the more striking.

8. The Card Counter (Paul Schrader) – Our sins have long-lasting consequences. That is the obvious theme of Paul Schrader’s latest thorny story of redemption, and it is one that plays out with nightmares of the past, torture, prison time, mentoring, and card counting. Oscar Isaac gives a career best performance as the gambler William Tell, who appreciates the order of prison life, the security of small stakes card counting, and following orders. However, the guilt of some of those orders leads to an unusual attempt at atonement by helping a kid named Cirk (Tye Sheridan) with the assistance of an investor named La Linda (Tiffany Haddish). Confronting past demons is something Schrader excels at, and an ever-present sense of guilt drives the story to its tragic conclusion perfectly.

7. A Hero (Asghar Farhadi) – One difference between a good movie and a great movie is knowing where and when to point the camera. What makes that distinction for A Hero are the frequent cuts to a child, reminding us that the sins of adults make an impression and have more victims than just the adults. Farhadi knows the tragic nature of his story about a man on leave from debtor’s prison who spins one good deed into an elaborate fabrication of his heroism, and Farhadi also knows that the consequences of such a fabrication can most strongly be shown through the reactions of a child. Rahim (Amir Jadidi) may become the titular hero, but his son’s silent witness to his shortcoming is what most strongly underscore the cruelty of a culture that prizes appearances without second chances.

6. The Lost Daughter (Maggie Gyllenhaal) – Perhaps the greatest collaboration by two actors I’ve ever seen, Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley’s portrayal of one woman at two different points in her life is haunting, beautiful, and seamlessly merged. They are tremendously aided by Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directing, which perfectly times the cuts between past and present, as the memories of the past grow into longer and longer segments. Leda’s choices could easily make her repugnant, but Colman and Buckley show the tortured soul underneath the cruel exterior. The cinematography both captures the beauty of the Greek island and creates an intimacy for a story about broken relationships and missing dolls. The way Gyllenhaal merges the dichotomy captures the tragedy and longing of every child as wel as the toll that takes on every mother.

5. The Power of the Dog (Jane Campion) – An unlikely marriage between a rancher and a widow leads to an unlikely friendship between his brother and her son. The friendship is unlikely, because the coarse, arrogant, bullying demeanor of Phil Burbank (an intimidating Benedict Cumberbatch) is completely at odds with the mild-mannered, effeminate Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee). As much a psychological thriller as a western, The Power of the Dog simultaneously shows humankind’s capacity for cruelty and kindness, for holding onto one truth while denying another. Above all, it addresses the importance of mentors and the ways they can shape our lives for good or ill, as each mentee becomes more or less subject to the shadow cast by the power of the dog.

4. Drive My Car (Ryûsuke Hamaguchi) – A sprawling, heartfelt epic about dealing with loss, the pangs of creating art, and the formative relationships that are both positive and toxic. If that makes Drive My Car sound intimidating, it shouldn’t, because each minute of this three-hour movie is a delight from the flawed yet loving marriage of director/actor Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and writer Oto (Reika Kirishima) to the multilingual production of Chekov’s Uncle Vanya that brings together a truly unique ensemble. It would be wrong to single out any relationship without mentioning the others, but the bond that forms between Kafuku and his young driver Mitari (Tôko Miura) turns into an unlikely friendship that reveals the way we grow from all past relationships, even those that were less than ideal.

3. West Side Story (Steven Spielberg) – A near perfect adaptation of a near perfect musical, Spielberg and Tony Kushner’s home run revitalizes West Side Story for a new generation while honoring the greatness of the source material (both Shakespeare and Laurents). The changes work beautifully, the emotional casting choice pays off perfectly, and as Tony and Maria Ansel Elgort and Rachel Zegler have enough chemistry to be believable as the star struck lovers while also being unremarkable enough to blend into their cultures of which they are a product. The tragedy doesn’t just affect them, it affects everyone, as the stellar supporting cast makes clear. (full review)

2. The French Dispatch (Wes Anderson) – On the one hand a parody of the New Yorker, but at the same time a love letter to cinema, magazines, and widening our horizons. The French Dispatch is possibly the most Wes Andersonesque film ever, and its smorgasbord of characters, sets, costumes, and stories revels in Anderson’s typical quirkiness, but it also provides a wider lens for viewing the world and learning about other cultures as each reporter brings their unique voice to each segment. Tying everything together is the joy Anderson finds in his eccentric collection of characters and scenarios—a joy that is refreshing and infectious as Bill Murray’s editor’s love for his titular magazine.

1. Annette (Leos Carax) – Art influences life and life influences art. In other words, our entertainment shapes the way we view the world, and the world shapes the type of entertainment that is made. On its surface, Annette is a toxic love story between offensive comedian Henry McHenry (a terrifying Adam Driver) and world-renowned soprano Ann Desfranoux (a sublime Marion Cotillard). However, this toxic relationship exposes the mechanics behind opera, comedy, and musicals through the simple lyrics, blurring the line between fantasy and reality, and the fame (or infamy) each character achieves.

With each performance within the film, director Leos Carax draws attention to the way the audience reacts and asks what they take away from each character’s performance and persona. On a larger level, as scenes blur from performance to dream to studio, he is asking the same question of the art and performances that we have enjoyed throughout the past couple centuries. How have these art works shaped our own views, and how have our views influenced the art we create? How does our art treat the most vulnerable? Who does our art celebrate? And most strikingly, who does our art give voice to? (full review)