My Top Films of 2023

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The past year in film was one of often startling contrasts. The “Barbenheimer” phenomenon existed alongside simultaneous Hollywood writer and actor strikes. Streaming services like Disney+ and Max savagely axed their catalogues to cut costs, even shelving finished projects. And, for every Sound of Freedom and Super Mario Bros Movie that supercharged the global box office, there was an equally massive commercial and critical disappointment (especially for Marvel or DC Comics properties).

However, if you were to judge 2023 solely by its creative output, you would be hard-pressed to deny the great year that it was. Yes, “Barbenheimer” was a huge win for original filmmaking, but outstanding international films continued to gain both box office and critical attention. From The Boy and the Heron and Godzilla Minus One to Past Lives and Anatomy of a Fall, this feels like a year where, due to the often-underwhelming output of American franchise filmmaking, audiences sought out sincere and moving stories from around the globe.

The year was also full of thematic contrasts. It seemed like every other acclaimed film was about the banality of evil and how cruel humanity can be. And yet, my list of the best films of the year also includes celebrations of joy, love, peace, and understanding. And even, sometimes, of hope. So, cheers to the beautiful and chaotic year that was 2023 in film, and I hope you enjoy my picks for the 20 best films I saw this past year.

10. AMERICAN FICTION

American Fiction is a razor-sharp and thought-provoking satire of the modern world of book publishing and the intellectual gatekeepers that marginalize and fetishize black voices. And, while the film is often hilarious, it’s also sad and profound in a way that knocked me off balance and left me walking away mightily impressed. In what seems a banner year for debut features, Cord Jefferson’s adaptation of Percival Everett’s novel “Erasure” is also a welcome star-turn for the always-excellent character actor Jeffrey Wright.

Here, Wright plays Monk, a college professor and writer who is struggling to sell books. He is an African American author who would rather be known as “author” first, but lives in a world where being “black” carries a certain set of expectations from white publishers. At a writing conference, he discovers fellow black author Sintara Golden (Isaa Rae) and her latest wildly successful novel full of black stereotypes. Exasperated, he decides to punk his editor by submitting “My Pafology,” a supposedly semi-autobiographical novel that plays to similar tropes. Of course, the publishers love it, and Monk decides to see how far he can take the ruse without becoming the sellout he so despises.

The film obviously touches on some provocative themes, but it does so in a warm and very believable way. A good chunk of the film is taken up with Monk’s strained relationship with his family, including his aging mother Agnes (Leslie Uggams), his sister Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross), and his volatile brother Cliff (Sterling K. Brown). Thanks to smart writing and excellent performances, the satire never becomes overwhelming or too preachy. Instead, Jefferson weaves a tight narrative where most scenes and conversations are filled with meanings and subtexts that flesh themselves out beautifully over the course of the film. The movie is memorable throughout, but it’s the ending that truly cements it as a great one. It’s just as surprising and disorienting as the rest of the film, but it’s also a multidimensional commentary on the ephemeral nature of storytelling and the way that lies can easily become truth if we let them. This truly wonderful film goes on a confident high note.

9. AMERICAN SYMPHONY/STILL: A MICHAEL J. FOX MOVIE/BONO & THE EDGE: A SORT OF HOMECOMING WITH DAVID LETTERMAN

I present to you three equally engrossing documentary portraits of artists and the joys and sacrifices of bringing your art into the world. American Symphony is the deeply moving portrait of musician Jon Batiste, whose career skyrockets into the stratosphere while his wife, writer Suleika Jaouad, faces a prolonged and brutal battle with cancer. This is an utterly compelling tearjerker of the best kind, one that attempts to understand how the spiritual ecstasy of creating beautiful sounds can exist beside heartbreak over our own mortality. It’s also one of the best love stories brought to film, as we see that no amount of notoriety can replace the innate human desire to be deeply known and loved.

Speaking of love, that’s an emotion that radiates off the screen in Davis Guggenheim’s portrait of actor Michael J. Fox entitled Still. Narrated by Fox himself, and bolstered by some tasteful and well-done reenactments, this documentary shows the famous actor as a man with a lot of love to give. It’s the kind of love that transcends something like a Parkinson’s diagnosis. Fox’s retrospective of his career—and how he hid his condition from the world for years—is fascinating, but the film is more concerned with how one perseveres through adversity. Although it can be difficult to see him in his condition as he works with a physical trainer to continue basic motor function, we see the love Fox has for his wife and kids, for his career, and for the community that has gathered around him in the wake of his diagnosis and tireless advocacy for Parkinson’s research and treatment. As with much of Guggenheim’s other work, this is a documentary for people who don’t like documentaries, filled with gorgeous compositions and a steadfast commitment to never water down the material or lionize his subject. Whether you are a fan of Fox and his work or not, this is a can’t-miss experience.

Although Guggenheim directed the terrific U2 documentary From the Sky Down, this year brought us another intimate look at the boys from Dublin courtesy of Oscar-winning director Morgan Neville. Unlike the other two documentaries that share this spot, Bono & The Edge: A Sort of Homecoming with David Letterman is a bit of a tougher sell for non-fans of the prolific Irish rock band. But I think that everyone should be fans of U2, and this film presents the best case I’ve seen for why their music matters. U2 superfan David Letterman leads us on an intimate journey with frontman Bono and guitarist The Edge. Through their eyes we get a moving portrait of the power of community when it comes to making music. Bono and The Edge are humble throughout, taking the time to share memories of their hometown and their gratitude for the experiences that informed who they are as artists. We are treated to some undeniably thrilling jam sessions throughout the film, including some with Dublin musician Glen Hansard, known for his role in the classic music film Once. While in their hometown, the boys decide to put on an impromptu concert for locals; David Letterman joyfully inviting people to the free show is one of the more delightful cinematic experiences I had this year. The concert itself is interspersed throughout the film, and the result is breathtaking. Neville’s veteran filmmaking style and the band’s connection with the audience help to create some truly unmissable footage.

8. RYE LANE

Think of it as a funnier Before Sunrise. Yes, Raine Allen-Miller’s south London-set romantic comedy draws heavy comparisons to Richard Linklater’s iconic trilogy. It’s about two young, idealistic people who spend the day together, taking in the sights of the city after a chance encounter. But the film’s bold stylistic choices, vibrant colors, and cheeky tone set it apart from its influences.

Allen-Miller’s secret sauce is in the wonderful performers she found to make her characters come to life. Yas (Vivian Oparah) and Dom (Damian Jones) are two struggling black artists who meet at an art exhibition. Almost immediately, the film makes these two loveable and relatable despite their flaws. Dom is grieving the loss of a long-term relationship and has moved back in with his parents. Yas is a free spirit and aspiring costume designer who has also recently gone through a break-up. Their relationship and banter feel quite natural, despite the artificial nature of the setup, and the performances and dialogue shine throughout.

The movie also is a great slice-of-life portrait of south London, capturing some truly hilarious and bizarre background characters that may have been staged but could just have easily been filmed guerilla style. That’s how authentic the movie feels. There’s even a cameo from a famous actor that I won’t spoil, but it’s to the film’s credit that I almost didn’t recognize him, and totally bought him as a purveyor of uncomfortably spicy burritos.

Perhaps the film’s greatest strength is that it tells its delightful tale in a brief 82 minutes. Obviously, given the rest of this list, I have no qualms with long movies that earn their runtime, but there’s something so refreshing about a movie this good being this short. Even more reason to check out this underrated gem of a film.

7. THE HOLDOVERS

Some might call Alexander Payne’s wonderful 70’s throwback film a new holiday classic, but it deserves to be so much more than a “Christmas” movie. Payne and screenwriter David Hemingson craft a funny, soulful, and redemptive portrait of love as sacrifice, and of finding out what it means to really “see” someone different from yourself.

The trio of performances at the film’s center are what draw us in and keep us glued to our seats. There’s the curmudgeonly “walleyed” boarding school professor Paul Hunham (a never-better Paul Giamatti), his intelligent but volatile student Angus (newcomer Dominic Sessa), and the school cafeteria administrator Mary Lamb (Da’Vine Joy Randolph). Through the machinations of the film, all three are “held over” and forced to wander the cold and lonely halls of Barton Academy while the other students get to enjoy their Christmas break.

From the beginning, the trio does not get along. Paul is strict and set in his ways. Angus is lashing out from the emotional wounds inflicted by a volatile home life. And Mary is grieving the loss of her young son in the Vietnam War. The way that Hemingson’s script peels back the layers of these characters is mighty impressive, and I found even more depth and richness to his approach upon a second viewing. As Paul and Angus begin to “see” one another through their various escapades, they begin to form a deep connection that is hard to put into words. And, while Mary often acts as the mediator between the two stubborn men, she may require someone to really see her as well.

The Holdovers is heartwarming without being sappy and emotionally raw without being depressing. Every moment of understanding and reconciliation feels earned, because we intimately understand what makes these characters tick. The sum of the film’s lessons may not be particularly revelatory, but it is undeniably effective. Oh, and I should also mention that Eigil Bryld’s grainy 70’s cinematography and the on-point retro soundtrack endear the film to my heart even further.

6. PAST LIVES

This film may be one of the saddest I have ever seen, and by that, I mean it is heartbreaking in all the best ways. Rooted in the concept of reincarnation, Celine Song’s extraordinary directorial debut wonders what our worlds may have looked like in “past lives,” and connects the themes of love, loneliness, and destiny through this idea that the end is never the end.

Consistently throughout, Song never gives us exactly what we expect from a story like this. When Nora (Greta Lee) reconnects with her childhood crush Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) decades after their childhood in South Korea, we expect the pair to re-energize a romance and for Nora to leave her husband Arthur (John Magaro) for the man she seems destined to be with. But Song’s concept of destiny is far more bittersweet, played out as Nora and Hae Sung continue to try and reconnect over the years. Eventually, they are forced to acknowledge that, perhaps, the moment has passed, and they’ll have to take comfort in who they were to one another in a “past” life.

The film is beautiful, with marvelous cinematography, haunting music, and astonishing performances. We feel for all three of these characters, even Arthur, whom a lesser film might have made into some kind of snob or villain. Instead, Arthur is a wonderful and understanding husband, even if he is not entirely sure what to make of Nora and Hae Sung’s relationship. The movie is emotionally honest in a way that is unfortunately rare in contemporary cinema, and it has a deep understanding of the inherent dignity of love and commitment, even when such things are crushingly hard.

5. JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4

I think it’s safe to say that John Wick is the one of the premiere action movie franchises. Keanu Reeves’ iconic character’s relentless campaign against the High Table has produced increasingly legendary movies with boundary-pushing stunts. Thankfully, this trend continued with Chapter 4, which is nothing less than action movie nirvana. Clocking in at close to three hours, this is another very long movie on this year’s list. And, while the early minutes of the film lay a lot of plot groundwork, the remainder of the time is filled with a litany of banger action sequences.

Is it possible to choose a favorite? There’s the brutal ninja melee in Japan, the brawl in Harkan’s nightclub, the car chase around the Arc de Triomphe, the “bird’s eye” shotgun sequence, and the climactic shootout among the steps of the Rue Foyatier, just to name a few. This film is the ultimate test: is there such a thing as too much John Wick? The answer is a definitive “no.”

It’s not just the action set pieces that make this franchise so great, but also the characters and worldbuilding. There’s a whole internal logic to this world of gentlemen (and women) assassins that I find absolutely riveting, and what reinforces this high action concept is the strength of the performances. Every supporting player up to Reeves himself sells this material and brings the weight needed to raise the stakes with each action sequence. In particular, Donnie Yen’s blind swordsman Caine is a welcome addition to the cast, and Yen is such a charismatic performer that it’s an absolute delight to see him show off again. What else can I say? I’m sure there are lots of things about this franchise that you could nitpick, but, for me, it’s entirely too impressive to ignore. I’d say John Wick is back, and it feels better than ever.

4. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

Whatever happened to bring about Martin Scorsese’s late-career renaissance, I am thankful. The legendary filmmaker’s latest string of masterpieces reveals the depth and introspection of a man who is determined to wrestle with his legacy through painful but undeniably effective means. Silence was his haunting dissection of the religious epic. The Irishman was his reckoning with the legacy of gangster flicks. And now, Killers of the Flower Moon arrives as both an epic tale of the American West and a tragedy about the ways in which white men have coerced, killed, and manipulated to ensure that they are the winners who write the history books.

The film is startling in its stark and unfussed depiction of the Osage murders, a string of violence against Native Americans that occurred in 1920’s Oklahoma after oil was discovered on Native land. Of course, white men show up to ensure that such a rich resource, and the wealth that comes with it, stay in the most “responsible” hands. In steps the ruthless entrepreneur William Hale (played with cold perfection by Robert DeNiro) who ingratiates himself with the Osage and lures his gullible nephew Earnest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) into his schemes. One of their most nefarious scams involves courting Osage women from wealthy oil families and then legally taking their money through marriage. And they have no qualms about murdering and blackmailing anyone who gets in their way.

The warmer and more idealistic filmmaker who crafted stories like The Aviator and Hugo is almost completely gone here. This movie is ice cold, as Eric Roth’s script refuses to editorialize the hard truth and brutality of this shameful period in American history. In that way, it reminded me very much of 12 Years A Slave, another film that took an almost documentary-style approach to cataloguing the horrors of our not-so-distant past. This is, in my view, the appropriate way to approach such heavy material. No one is asking for comic relief or levity in such a weighty story.

At 3 and a half hours, the movie is definitely a long sit, and it feels its length. That’s not to say that the movie is boring or slow, only that Scorsese takes the time to tell the story right. There are layers that reveal themselves over the unspooling of the hours, and the film ultimately weaves an intoxicating spell. It’s the rare movie of such length that mostly earns its runtime, although I do admit the film could have used a little more trimming.

The other aspect of the movie that truly kept my attention was the acting. The heart and soul of the film is Lily Gladstone, who plays Earnest’s wife and eventual mark Mollie. In a heartbreaking performance, Gladstone portrays Mollie with nuance and depth as her genuine love for Earnest curdles into hatred and, eventually, pity. She does so in a physically demanding performance that is nothing short of astonishing.

Killers of the Flower Moon is ultimately a movie that fires on all cylinders. Scorsese’s assured direction combines with great acting, a memorable score, stunning cinematography, and stellar production design to create a truly must-see epic tragedy.

3. SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse was an intimidating act to follow. Not only was it an Oscar winner and critical darling, but it was also a cultural phenomenon, ushering in a new era of animation that moves away from more “realistic” 3D modeling and embraces a more painterly or “drawn on” aesthetic (see also this year’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem). It was, in short, a landmark. Thankfully, the creators of the first film didn’t let all that praise go to their heads. Instead, they created an impressive sequel that takes the resonant themes and endearing characters of the original and expands upon them in epic fashion.

The allure of this particular Spidey franchise goes well beyond mere eye candy. It’s the way the animation is incorporated into the storytelling that truly sets it apart. For example, when we begin the film with Spider Gwen’s narration, we see her perspective through a visual style that immediately marks it as her own. We don’t even need dialogue; we just know we’re in Gwen Stacy’s world. The film’s knack for trusting its audience to gel with its unique storytelling is its greatest strength, as each universe we see is distinctly animated. Of course, we also see the return of Miles Morales as he is drawn into a dizzying multiversal saga. Yes, multiverses in pop culture are played out, but Across the Spider-Verse proves a potent last gasp (in easy contrast to the sloppy worldbuilding in something like The Flash).

At 2 hours and 20 minutes, the movie is admittedly lengthy, but it’s so breathlessly paced and visually dazzling that the minutes fly by. It’s a lot of movie, but thankfully that just means that the film demands to be seen more than once. On second viewing, my appreciation for the intricate storytelling and litany of “wow” moments only deepened. This is truly the Empire Strikes Back of Spidey flicks. Were it not for the unsatisfying cliffhanger ending, it may have earned the top spot on my list.

2. OPPENHEIMER

    I am not sure “filmmaker” is an apt title to apply to veteran director Christopher Nolan. “Magician” might be a more appropriate moniker. Who else but a magician could conjure up such an engrossing, artistically daring, and intricately beautiful three-hour epic about the father of the atomic bomb? With Oppenheimer, Nolan establishes himself as the modern-day David Lean, taking an almost impossibly grand subject and scope and making it feel both heartbreakingly intimate and larger-than-life. Nolan has sometimes struggled in his career to balance his narratives with his grand visual and technological ambitions. In other words, he hasn’t always passed the “will I still like it when I watch it again on streaming?” test. Yes, his latest masterwork should absolutely be seen on the biggest screen possible. But the complex, layered storytelling, masterful characterization, and relentless pacing make it a biopic for the history books, one that will be studied and analyzed for years to come.

    Why is it that a film with such manic jumps between time periods and complex technical jargon never feels like its daunting run time? It has a lot to do with vision. Nolan’s staunch commitment to showing both the benefits and the horrors of such an endeavor is woven throughout the movie, as he refuses to paint characters with a broad brush or convey anyone as truly hero or villain (minus the Nazis, of course). Rober J. Oppenheimer, played brilliantly by a never-better Cillian Murphy, is a daring and committed visionary who also alienates friends, cheats on his wife, and is haunted by the specter of what he has unleased upon the world. The film is based on the book American Prometheus, and I can’t imagine a more apt title for what Oppenheimer brought to the world. We have the great and terrible gift of a new kind of fire, and we can never go back. This culminates in a Nolan staple—a technically daring and nail-biting trailer-fodder sequence. Here, it’s the Trinity test—the first detonation of the atomic bomb. It’s an extraordinary scene, but it’s a later scene that cements the film as a classic. Oppenheimer, giving a speech to a gymnasium full of cheering Americans waving their patriotic flags—sees an apocalyptic and horrifying vision. He sees skin peeling off a woman’s face, people crying and vomiting, and the ashy husk of a human being. It’s a terrifying moment of moral crisis—and a true testament to the power of film when performance, direction, sound design, music, visual effects, cinematography, and editing all come together to create something unforgettable. Nolan and his team’s commitment to their vision and the morally knotty conclusions that result help to create a haunting magnum opus.

    1. Anatomy of a Fall

    This is the kind of movie that makes me feel bad for other movies. Justine Triet’s scorching Palme d’Or winner is both a gripping courtroom drama and a clear-eyed portrait of the disintegration of a marriage. The “fall” of the title refers both to the fatal fall of Samuel Maleski (Samuel Theis) at his winter Grenoble chalet and to the resulting fallout for wife Sandra (Sandra Huller). She is the prime suspect and their vision-impaired son Daniel (Milo Machado Graner) is the sole witness. The film’s Golden Globe-winning script (written by Triet and Arthur Harari) is remarkably perceptive about human nature and the lies and resentments that build up when couples see their paths in life as separate. The film masterfully teases out revelations as a seemingly happy marriage begins to show cracks. While Sandra is being interrogated by a ruthless prosecutor in court, we find out, for example, that Samuel began recording his and Sandra’s conversations in the days leading up to his death. Well, that’s not normal. We also get conflicting statements about the husband and wife’s character from therapists and other folks who hovered around the periphery of their lives.

    Without giving too much away, it does the film a disservice to ask “Did Sandra kill her husband, or was it an accident?” Instead, the film is more interested in the irreparable harm that is done to a person when his or her life is dissected in public, every intimate detail and off-hand remark suddenly a confession or a clue. Nowhere is this theme more powerfully conveyed than through the character of Daniel. As a young boy being asked to shoulder a tremendous burden, he is torn between the love he feels for both parents and the shock of his father’s sudden death. Graner’s performance is a revelation, as he is often asked to convey such deep emotion with little more than facial expressions and body language.

    Anatomy of a Fall is, above all, a convicting film, pointing the finger at us, the audience, for being so engrossed in the salacious details of true-crime documentaries and tabloid headlines that we forget the human beings—who are never entirely heroes or victims—behind the media frenzy. I braced myself for a “twist” ending that would shed a definitive light on what happened to Samuel. But, thankfully, that moment never came. This movie is way too good to resort to such cheap storytelling tricks. No, the ending of this masterpiece reminds us that life keeps on going, even if we never get the closure we desire this side of heaven. It’s a hard, bitter truth, but one that the film conveys with a beauty and grace that feels effortless.

    Here are my #11-20 picks:

    • Are You there God? It’s Me, Margaret
    • Mission: Impossible: Dead Reckoning—Part 1
    • Barbie
    • Suzume
    • A Thousand and One
    • May December
    • Creed III
    • Maestro
    • Linoleum
    • Reality 

    Some of this year’s major blind spots include Poor Things, Showing Up, Godland, Close, You Hurt My Feelings, Blackberry, The Iron Claw, Ferrari, The Zone of Interest, Sisu, Rustin, The Blackening, Saltburn, Godzilla Minus One, Dumb Money, and Nyad. Let me know which of these or others are worth checking out!

    My Top Films of 2022

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    Saying that 2022 was a transitional year for movies would be a massive understatement. This was a year of highs and lows, of all-time flops and soaring smash hits, with not much in between. Studio pictures and auteur cinema alike suffered, as movie fans faced multiple disappointments ranging from underwhelming to disastrous. Time and time again, it seems like many of the year’s most highly anticipated films struck out with both audiences and critics. Who would have predicted that directors with the pedigree of Alex Garland, Damien Chazelle, Andrew Dominik, Alejandro G Inarritu, Noah Baumbach, Olivia Wilde, Taika Waititi, George Miller, David O. Russell, Florian Zeller, and Sam Mendes would all turn in sub-par work?

    Then, there was the box office. Although there were some healthy signs of life from the likes of Top Gun: Maverick, Avatar: The Way of Water, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and new Minions and Jurassic World flicks, traditional theatrical releases still struggled to lure audiences back to the cinema. Both adult-oriented original fare and family-friendly animation seemed to be dead on arrival, from She Said and The Fabelmans to the shockingly poor performances of Disney’s Lightyear and Strange World (not to mention the franchise-killer that was Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore). If the past year was any indication, theaters and major studios have an uphill battle as they try to increase their appeal in a crowded streaming marketplace. “I’ll catch it on demand in a month” seems to be the consensus around most releases these days.

    Yes, there was a lot to be disappointed about in 2022, but those who sought out the good stuff were richly rewarded. My list of top films of the past year reflects the diversity, passion, and sheer chutzpah of both veteran filmmakers and rookies to take the ball and run with it, knowing their projects could stand out in a rather barren marketplace. And stand out they did! If these films are any indication, the movies still have a future worth getting excited about. Please enjoy my 20 favorite movies of 2022.

    10. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

    Released during the pre-pandemic cinematic utopia that was 2019, Rian Johnson’s phenomenal twist on the classic whodunit, Knives Out, barely missed my top 10 (it wound up at number 11). This time, I couldn’t resist including its follow-up in the upper tier; Glass Onion was the one of the most wildly entertaining movies of the year. I regret that I didn’t get a change to see it with an audience during its limited Thanksgiving theatrical run, because I imagine seeing it in a crowded theater would have been a hoot. On the other hand, my nonstop cackling might have disturbed the other guests, so catching this on Netflix for free wasn’t such a raw deal either.

    Watching Daniel Craig’s southern-fried detective Benoit Blanc ham it up with a stacked cast is an immensely satisfying experience, and the mystery at the center is yet another sly commentary on the haves vs. the have-nots. Glass Onion is so brilliant that even though it essentially copies the structure of the first movie, and I didn’t care one bit. Johnson’s crackling dialogue shines through yet again, and his camerawork and editing techniques are more assured this time around. But what really places the film on this list is the acting. From Edward Norton’s smarmy Musk-like billionaire to Kathryn Han’s neurotic politician, every actor takes the opportunity to relish their dialogue and make the most of their roles. A special commendation goes to Janelle Monae, whose Andi Brand is the emotional core of the film. She absolutely knocks it out of the park; few actors could make the pathway of a drop of hot sauce feel so gripping.

    9. Nope

    From its very opening shot, horror lovers know they’re in for a treat with Jordan Peele’s third directorial effort. Yes, Gordy the Chimp is outstanding, but he’s far from the only star in this rodeo. As with Peele’s previous films Get Out and Us, Nope is a gripping thriller that doubles as a clever commentary. This time, the target of Peele’s pen is the Hollywood machine as well as the insatiable demands of art, particularly on black artists who dare to push the status quo. Thankfully, Peele is adept at keeping the emotional through-line clear and concise. At the film’s center is the relationship between siblings OJ and Emerald Haywood (played by Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer) as they struggle to keep their movie ranch open after the mysterious death of their father. The way they end up turning the spectacle of a UFO into a business opportunity is inspiring. There are a lot of fun character moments but make no mistake: this movie is still downright chilling. Several sequences are bound to sear themselves into your memory and haunt you while you sleep; however, I would hate to say much more for fear of spoiling the experience. With stellar acting, great effects, thought-provoking themes, and several incredibly designed movie monsters, Jordan Peele is 3 for 3 when it comes to crafting memorable thrillers that merit repeat viewings.

    8. Belle

    This tragically overlooked cyberpunk anime version of Beauty and the Beast is another winner from visionary director Mamoru Hosoda. This deeply moving, funny, and gorgeously animated story follows Suzu, a shy high school student who isolates herself from the world after the tragic death of her mother. But when Suzu enters “U,” a massive virtual world, she begins singing under the online persona of “Belle” and becomes a global sensation. When she crosses paths with an unbeatable cyber-criminal called “The Dragon,” an adventure begins that will force Suzu to confront the demons of her past and find her place in the real world.

    The film deals with some surprisingly heavy themes, from grief and loss to domestic violence and abuse. But it’s all done with a soft and assured hand, making this PG-rated anime a great watch for families with older kids. It’s also a fun cautionary tale on the pitfalls of social media and online harassment/bullying, making it a valuable viewing experience for kids and adults alike. Most importantly, Belle is simply a beautiful and resonant masterwork, one that uses stunning visuals, unique  designs, and memorable characters to create a world truly worth getting lost in. You’ll want to see it again the second it’s over.

    7. The Batman

    I had high hopes for Matt Reeves’ reset of the Dark Knight but following up Christopher Nolan’s acclaimed trilogy is no easy task. Thankfully, the film exceeded even my highest expectations. Robert Pattinson makes a terrific Bruce Wayne, one who is several years into his crime-fighting career but not exactly a veteran yet.

    Reeves wisely avoids the well-trod origin story and focuses on the rising tensions in Wayne’s life: His strained relationship with Alfred (Andy Serkis), his connection to a mysterious thief (Zoe Kravitz), and his own inner darkness as he confronts the serial killer known as The Riddler (Paul Dano). The film is brooding and violent, but it’s not content to copy what worked in Nolan’s films. This is a much pulpier detective story, with lots of poring over clues, exposing corrupt politicians, and interrogating baddies for evidence. That’s not to say the movie doesn’t have action—the fight sequences are brutal and balletic in a way that feels fresh and exciting. I think what really seals the deal for me, though, is Dano’s interpretation of the Riddler; he is deeply unsettling and will chill you to the bone at times.  The film’s reimagining of the character, as an underground keyboard warrior with an army of online diehards willing to follow him into battle, is a brilliant move. It lends the film a timely moral clarity as a commentary on the dangers of alt-right social media movements.

    Even at nearly three hours, The Batman flies by, immersing the audience in a very cleverly designed Gotham City and using performance, sound design, music, and cinematography to create an all-time great superhero story.

    6. The Banshees of Inisherin

    Martin McDonaugh’s Irish oddity is either the most depressing or the funniest movie of the year. Maybe it’s both. Expertly toeing the line between dark comedy and Greek tragedy, McDonagh reunites with his In Bruges actors Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson for a riveting disintegration of a friendship. Farrell and Gleeson are at the top of their game as Padraic and Colm, one simple and kind, the other deep and ambitious. One day, Colm simply decides that he no longer wants to speak to Padraic. He does not give a reason, for there isn’t one. He simply wants to be left alone. For the sociable Padraic, whose daily visits to the local pub are his lifeline, such cryptic reasoning is unacceptable. And so, we are treated to a verbal (and, eventually, physical) battle of wits, a clash between the bonds of simple friendship and the desire to leave a mark on the world.

    The film is gorgeous to look at, practically a travel advertisement for the Irish countryside. It’s filled with terrific supporting players including Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan. And its script is among the sharpest and wittiest of the year (I would welcome an original screenplay Oscar win for McDonagh). But the film is most memorable because it is knotty and dense, refusing to peddle anything resembling easy answers and instead allowing its characters and audience to ask probing questions and sit in uncomfortable truths. It is here that the film emerges as both bleak and resonant, not unlike McDonagh’s previous film Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. We root for both men, because both are right, and both hold to their beliefs so firmly and consistently. It’s an often quiet and subtle film, but one whose complex themes ring out long after the credits roll.

    5. Tar

    Tar is, put simply, a damn good movie. Todd Field waited 16 years to direct another film after Little Children, and the result was well worth the wait. The brilliance of the film comes from its ambiguity; Field is careful not to judge Lydia Tar, the world-class conductor and composer whose personal and professional life begins to unravel after a credible accusation of sexual harassment comes to light. His script simply presents Lydia’s actions, both positive and negative, and the resulting consequences. The effect creates one of the most intimate fictional characters ever put on screen. Cate Blanchett plays Lydia with such a focused ferocity that I had a hard time believing that she is not a real person. The inclusion of references to the COVID-19 pandemic and real-life figures such as Adam Gopnik heighten that reality.

    Tar is a true armchair-gripper of a film, one that leaves you breathless as you go back and forth between loving and hating Lydia. The film expertly depicts both the triumphs and pitfalls of fame, as well as the malignant pull of narcissism and the way it symbiotically feeds off celebrity. Tar is not the most enjoyable film on a story level; it’s emotionally brutal in a way few films can manage. But the pleasures, from Blanchett’s astonishing performance to the stellar music and cinematography, are more than worth the price of admission to experience this devastating masterwork.

    4. RRR

    Leave it to India to come along and make American action movies look pathetic. Seriously, I don’t envy anyone making an action epic after S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR (which stands for Rise, Roar, Revolt). The Tollywood masterpiece is so breathtaking, so wild, so polished, and so entertaining that it almost defies categorization.

    Creating a “what-if” scenario of the meeting and resulting friendship of real-life revolutionaries Rama Raju and Bheem, the film ups the scale of its battle sequences to a ridiculous degree. Want a man attacking a British colonial compound to rescue his kidnapped sister with a whole jungle’s worth of animals at his side? You got it. How about a man fighting off a literal sea of revolutionaries single-handedly using only his body and a baton? Sure. Ever seen a man grab a running motorcycle, throw off its rider and swing it around as a weapon? Me neither, until now.

    Yes, RRR is spectacular eye candy, but it also features inspired dance numbers and songs (did I mention it’s a musical?) and the best cinematic bromance since Sam and Frodo. The film is filled with “how’d they do that?” jaw-dropping moments. I don’t know the answer, but I’m so very happy they did. There’s a reason everyone is talking about this movie. It really is that good.

    3. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

    Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are. To be honest, I was not particularly thrilled to see this movie. I thought it looked cute and funny, but also rather forgettable. My goodness, I was so wrong. Marcel is simply one of the greatest characters to ever grace a movie screen. His kindness, relentless optimism, and dogged determination will win over the hearts of even the most jaded cynic. I’m sad that no one went to see this movie, because it’s the rare film that feels truly, genuinely healing.

    Marcel is brilliantly shot like a documentary, with director Dean Fleischer Camp playing himself as he captures the life of this unflappable mollusk and uploads the shorts to YouTube. Marcel lives a simple life with his Nana Connie, but after Dean’s internet videos take off, Marcel is rocketed to stardom. He decides to use his newfound fame to search for his missing family, who he and Nana Connie were separated from when he was younger.

    The friendship that forms between Marcel and Dean is incredibly sweet, but Marcel is a fully formed character, not just a series of cute sayings or quirks. He gets angry and frustrated, his strong moral center clashing against the shallow celebrity culture he now finds himself swimming in. And yet, his optimism remains unshakable, and his journey to find his family will leave not a dry eye in the house. I looked around my theater when I saw the film, and every person I could see was absolutely bawling by the end of it. It’s that rare film that tugs all the heartstrings in just the right way, and it’s impossible not to be won over by Marcel and his awe and wonder at the world. I should also mention that Marcel and other found-object characters are animated in gorgeous stop motion, and the combination of animation and live action is truly one-of-a-kind. I’m so thankful that Marcel the Shell With Shoes On exists, and that’s the highest praise I can think to give a movie.

    2. The Fabelmans

    What a lovely film this is. Director Steven Spielberg uses his own family story as a jumping-off point for a love letter to cinema and all the varied influences that caused an anxious Jewish boy to pick up a camera and tell stories. As far as I am aware, most of the major beats of the narrative mirror Spielberg’s life directly, making for a deeply personal and emotional film.

    Spielberg’s stand-in is Sammy Fabelman (Gabriel LaBelle), a young man growing up in 1950’s Phoenix, Arizona. His family faces the trials of multiple moves, his father Burt’s (Paul Dano) practicality clashing with his mother Mitzi’s (a rapturous Michelle Williams) free-spirited artistry. After seeing The Greatest Show on Earth as a kid, Sammy gained a soon-to-be-lifelong passion for cinema. But the truth the camera reveals is not always one we wish to confront.

    The camera is, in fact, a character in the film, as Sammy uses its lens to gain insight into himself and the people around him. The best scenes revolve around this dynamic: Sammy filming his mother’s impromptu dance on a camping trip or capturing footage that exposes the souls of his peers on a class beach trip. In a truly standout sequence, the camera swooshes around Sammy as he edits the camping trip footage, revealing a devastating family secret.

    What elevates the film from “great” to “instant classic” is, for me, the relationship dynamics between the family members. Are they dysfunctional? Absolutely. But there is a quiet ease and grace they give to each other, even when they are angry or resentful. Sammy’s relationship with his mother is especially tender and heartbreaking, but it’s also a treat to see his father’s hard outer shell soften as the years go by. These dynamics are heightened thanks to wonderful performances all around. Even funnyman Seth Rogen has a great supporting part that will hit you right in the feels.

    The Fabelmans is a tumultuous ride, but it never loses that trademark Spielberg warmth even in its most somber moments. Spielberg also uses his cadre of collaborators such as John Williams and Janusz Kaminski to help craft a masterful film that works on every conceivable level. Leave it to Spielberg to pay tribute to his love of cinema with one of his best movies.

    1. Everything, Everywhere, All at Once

    Yeah, my number one film of 2022 is likely no big surprise. It seems like everyone is lavishing this film with the highest of praise, and far be it from me to refrain from joining in the chorus. EEAAO is simply an astounding masterwork, the kind of movie that excites you about the potential of cinema to do something truly original and memorable.  

    The film’s emotional anchor is Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh), a working-class Chinese immigrant who elopes to the United States with her husband Raymond (Ke Huy Quan). They open a laundromat and have a daughter named Joy, but it’s hard for Evelyn to shake the feeling that she is not living her best life. While attending a contentious IRS meeting run by the impatient inspector Deirdre (a very entertaining Jamie Lee Curtis), she is recruited by an alternate-universe Raymond to “verse-jump” into other versions of herself. Here, she uses their skills and experiences to combat the threat of Jobu Tupaki, an entity that can access all realities at once and threatens the stability of the multiverse.

    That is a very brief summary of this bizarre and altogether wonderful trip. Directed by the duo known as The Daniels (whose previous film Swiss Army Man was an underrated gem), the movie expertly oscillates between high drama and their signature lowbrow humor. Expect hand-to-hand combat using dildos and people with hot dogs for fingers.

    What makes the film perhaps one of the best ever made is the way it uses its chaotic multiverse traversal as a jumping-off point for a very intimate story about the fractured relationship between a mother and daughter and an exploration about what’s truly important in life. Each of the many universes Evelyn taps into are fully realized and even heartfelt (yes, even the hotdog finger universe is an emotional gut punch), and it’s this simultaneous mix of silly and sweet that gives the film its power. Through its boundlessly strange creativity, it has something to say about our place in the universe and our responsibilities therein. The concept of timeline branches is one that naturally invites introspection, as Evelyn wonders how her very average life may have turned out differently had she made alternate choices. The film takes that concept and runs with it; in fact, this version of Evelyn is so unremarkable, that she is the only one that can save the multiverse.

    That’s a very prickly but ultimately life-affirming message: that a quiet, ordinary life well-lived can actually be a benefit rather than a liability. And I think Evelyn, as she comes to appreciate her husband and her daughter in ways she never had before, shows us how much extraordinary can come out of the ordinary. Not to mention, the movie has kick-ass action sequences and a consistently unpredictable and satisfying story that throws a lot at you but never feels exhausting. It’s a true landmark of a film, and one that people will be talking about for years to come. For all these reasons and more, it earns the title of my favorite film of 2022.

    My 11-20 picks are:

    11. The Northman

    12. Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America/Descendant

    13. Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio

    14. Decision to Leave

    15. Top Gun: Maverick

    16. The Woman King

    17. Fire of Love

    18. The Tragedy of Macbeth

    19. Puss in Boots: The Last Wish

    20. All Quiet on the Western Front 

    Major blind spots (as of this writing): Aftersun, Mr. Bachmann and His Class, Hit the Road, All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, All that Breathes, Bad Axe, Moonage Daydream, Benediction, Women Talking, Kimi, Till, After Yang, EO, Crimes of the Future, No Bears, Happening, Triangle of Sadness, She Said, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, White Noise, Thirteen Lives, and The Good Doctor.

    My top films of 2021

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    The movie industry, much like the rest of society, found itself at an uncomfortable and crucial crossroads in 2021. Due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, traditional theatrical releases had to succumb to the whims of virus variants and picky moviegoers: risking severe illness and/or death to go see a movie is unsurprisingly not a good bargain for most movie fans. Thus, many of the year’s standout releases were once again streaming titles: from award-winning prestige dramas like The Power of the Dog on Netflix to hybrid releases like Denis Villeneuve’s sci-fi epic Dune, many of the year’s most talked-about releases were enjoyed almost exclusively from the comfort and safety of home.

    Those films that did brave the theatrical waters fought an uphill battle. For every success (like Disney and Marvel’s smash hit Spider-Man: No Way Home) there was an equally calamitous disaster (West Side Story’s paltry $31 million total to date has signaled an inauspicious return for the traditional movie musical).

    But, from a creative standpoint, the year that was 2021 came out swinging. Many of cinema’s greatest auteurs, including Guillermo Del Toro, Paul Thomas Anderson, Wes Anderson and Jane Campion debuted highly anticipated new releases. Meanwhile, actors continued to make the successful transition to the director’s chair, including standout efforts from Maggie Gyllenhaal, Rebecca Ferguson, and Lin-Manuel Miranda, to name a few.

    But what cinema ultimately represented this year is a powerful theme: that identity can only be found in the context of a loving and caring community. Almost every movie of note dealt with this theme, from the family bonds of Encanto to the unlikely brotherhood presented in Riders of Justice, countless films this year helped audiences ruminate on the importance of embracing our true individual identity by leaning on the people around us. And, for many exhausted, quarantined movie fans, such messages brought hope and healing. As art so often does, the cinema brought us together even when we seemed so impossibly far apart. And we should all be so thankful for that.

    So, without further ado, here are my picks for the best films of 2021!

    *Side note: with the extension of awards-season submissions, you will see several films represented here that are technically 2020 releases, including a prestigious Oscar winner. However, because no one in the general public was able to see these films until mid-February at the earliest, I went ahead and counted them as 2021 movies for my purposes, since this was the year most people outside of critics’ circles were able to experience them. *  

    10. Belfast

    Actor Kenneth Branaugh has had a spotty career as a director, but few would deny that the heartfelt, semi-autobiographical masterwork Belfast ranks among his best efforts. His unabashed crowd-pleaser about three generations of a family in Northern Ireland caught in the crossfires of the tumultuous late 1960s is a harrowing tale that nonetheless manages to uplift and inspire. Shot in stunning black-and-white, the film is told from the perspective of Buddy, played by Jude Hill, who gives one of the best child performances in years. He is a revelation, but the supporting cast is absolutely stacked: Caitriona Balfe, Judi Dench, Ciaran Hinds and Jamie Dornan all do some career-best work. It’s no surprise that Branaugh would be a keen director of actors, but what is more surprising is the beauty and sensitivity of his script. It recounts a tragic history with a light, nostalgic touch that conveys both the innocence and the startling perceptiveness of childhood. The result is an absolute delight from start to finish.

    9. Encanto/The Mitchells vs. the Machines (tie)

    The past year was a great one for fans of sophisticated, boundary-pushing animation. It was so good, in fact, that two movies I loved equally are sharing a spot here. Encanto is Disney’s Animation’s best effort in years, featuring vibrant visuals, brilliant songs written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, and a challenging and complex moral that proves equally impactful for kids and adults. For those who haven’t seen it, the less you know going in the better. It’s now available to stream on Disney+.

    The Mitchells vs. the Machines doesn’t have the same heartfelt story as Encanto, but it’s easily the funniest and most creative movie I saw this year. Producers Phil Lord and Chris Miller continue their hot streak of top-tier animation (these are the guys that brought us Spider-Man: Into the Spider verse and The Lego Movie) with a wonderful adventure about a family learning to accept each other, flaws and all, while trying to save the world from a robot apocalypse.

    The story and writing often feel influenced by classic Simpsons (very high praise), but the animation is boundary-pushing in true Lord-Miller fashion, with creative use of 2-D drawing, shading and stylistic changes that give this film a look unlike any animated movie before it. And trust me when I say you will be in tears of laughter throughout. With an inspiring message, stunning animation and a stellar voice cast, The Mitchells vs. the Machines absolutely slays. It’s available to stream on Netflix.

    8. Pig

    If you had told me at the beginning of 2021 that a movie starring Nicholas Cage as a truffle hunter who goes on a journey of self-discovery as he searches relentlessly for his beloved stolen truffle pig would wind up as one of the best films of the year, I would have sincerely questioned your sanity. And yet, Michael Sarnoski’s directorial debut is one of the most moving portraits of grief and loneliness I’ve seen in recent years.

    The film is also a showcase for just what a gift we have in Nicholas Cage. This is easily some of the best work of his career, a reminder that, when given the right material, the veteran actor can move us to tears. Yes, he’s known more for his camp and over-the-top performances these days, but the range he displays here is nothing short of breathtaking. There is a lengthy conversation scene between Cage’s character and a chef in a restaurant that is such an acting tour-de-force I had to pick my jaw off the floor when it was over. This is not your traditional renegade revenge thriller and thank God for that. The world needs more movies like Pig.

    7. Rocks

    This British import was quietly released on Netflix way back in February and received a rapturous response from the few critics and audience members who saw it. It’s a shame that this masterful coming-of-age story seems to have gotten lost in the embarrassment of riches that was 2021 cinema, because it’s one of the most raw and honest portraits of girlhood ever put to screen. Bukky Barkay is absolutely brilliant as Shola ‘Rocks’ Omotoso, a teenage girl navigating the trials of adolescence while also taking care of her sweet but challenging younger brother. After the two are abandoned by their mother, they are forced to fend for themselves while avoiding the specter of separation that would likely come from being taken in by Social Services.

    Director Sarah Gavron’s decision to hire mostly non-professional actors from in and around East London results in a realistic and pitch-perfect portrait of adolescent crisis. The movie is funny and uplifting, but also heartbreaking. The acting, writing and directing all work together to make us care for Rocks and wish the best for her, even as she understandably gets frustrated and makes mistakes. A young girl having to suddenly take on the responsibilities of an adult is something that happens in the real world far too often, and the film shines a harsh light on girls throughout the world who are dealt a similar unfair hand by life. And yet, hope remains, once again found in the context of lasting friendships and a faithful and loving community. Bring tissues for this one.

    6. West Side Story/In the Heights (tie)

    I sincerely hope that the meager box office returns of 2021 don’t scare Hollywood away from a musical renaissance. We need these stories, now more than ever, because musicals give us a feeling of joy and celebration that’s hard to replicate in other film genres. From Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Tick…Tick…Boom and Vivo to Dear Evan Hansen (not nearly as terrible as its reputation suggests), fans of musicals had no shortage of movies to get excited about. But two films stood out above the rest, and they are sharing a spot because they are both examples of top-tier artistry and what this genre can do when given the creative freedom to fly.

    Believe it or not, Lin-Manuel Miranda had yet another critically acclaimed project this year (if this guy isn’t entertainer of the year, I can’t think of anyone else who could take that crown). Based on Miranda’s award-winning musical, In the Heights is a truly terrific film, combining toe-tapping tunes, endlessly creative dance numbers (seriously, that pool scene!) and an enviable amount of rising young acting talent that you will be hearing more from soon. Director Jon M. Chu (of Crazy Rich Asians fame) once again shows his knack for conveying the beauty and bonds of minority life in America as the immigrant community of Washington Heights grapples with the dissonance between the persistence of their dreams and the disappointments and missed opportunities of their daily lives. Chu wisely used lots of relatively unknown actors, which may have hurt the film’s box office receipts but lent a charming and lived-in vibe to the project. If you’re looking for a technically complex and engaging movie that will keep a smile on your face from beginning to end, this is the definition of a must-see.

    West Side Story, for the few people who may not know, is another classic musical about immigrant life in America that also happens to be a modernized song-and-dance interpretation of Romeo and Juliet. This story of the ethnic conflict between rival gangs the Jets and the Sharks, and the doomed lovers on both sides of the division, received a classic, Oscar-winning adaptation from Robert Wise back in 1961. That film, while undeniably a landmark, hasn’t aged particularly well; it has that glossy, manufactured quality that many stage-to-screen adaptations struggled with at the time. Steven Spielberg’s remake, however, is an improvement over the original film in almost every way. The choreography is stunning, the camerawork is consistently clever, and the performances are almost all outstanding. I especially loved Rachel Zegler as Maria, Ariana DeBose as Anita, Mike Faist as Rift, and original “Anita” Rita Moreno in a new role that will absolutely melt your heart. I had the pleasure of seeing this film in the theater, and what a joyous experience to be completely lost in a world and a story for 2.5 hours! This remake obviously had big shoes to fill, but Spielberg proves that he can still do what he does best—enchant us, transport us, and move us in a way no other living filmmaker can.

    5. The Green Knight

    Of any film on this list, this one comes with the most caveats. By which I mean that The Green Knight is a challenging film from a challenging filmmaker (David Lowery, whose previous credits include A Ghost Story, which I absolutely hated). And yet, I had high hopes for this idiosyncratic storyteller’s interpretation of an Arthurian legend. And man, was my hype ever justified. Let me repeat: this movie is not for everyone. I don’t even know if it’s for most people. But I was utterly transfixed from start to finish, lost in some of the most immersive cinematography and production design I’ve seen in years.

    The story, as much as there is one, follows Sir Gawain, King Arthur’s nephew, as he attempts to live up to his bloodline by embarking on a mythic quest to confront the Green Knight, an ominous and mysterious challenger. Gawain’s desire to prove himself in the eyes of his community is brought to life by actor Dev Patel, who was a bold casting choice and gives what is easily the best performance of his career. Patel plays Gawain as believable and relatable every step of the way, even as the character acts increasingly despicably to get the so-called “honor” he feels he deserves.

    The Green Knight is a psychologically intense and disturbing character study, and the film’s ending is likely the most cryptic of any film released this year. And yet, even when we can’t quite piece together everything that is going on, we trust the journey to the hands of an undeniably brilliant filmmaker. I could tell from beginning to end that every choice Lowery made was deliberate and purposeful. It’s a rare storyteller that can earn your trust while giving you so little to hold on to in terms of moment-to-moment plot and character development. You must have confidence in the journey. And, while you may love or hate the result, you’ll have a hard time denying that The Green Knight is quite unlike any film you’ve seen before.

    4. The Power of the Dog

    Jane Campion’s highly anticipated return to the director’s chair for the first time since 2009’s Bright Star did not disappoint, as the Kiwi auteur crafts a brilliant and emotionally brutal portrait of life lived on the margins. Her period piece tackles such potent themes as toxic masculinity, homophobia, and sexual repression through the landscape of the American west, where the very idea of what it means to be a man holds a very narrow definition. Benedict Cumberbatch is cast in a career-best role as Phil Burbank, a charismatic cattle rancher who simultaneously plays both victim and perpetrator of these societal restrictions and stereotypes. Cumberbatch plays Phil as a simmering kettle, all seething rage and cruelty, yet the film’s nuanced script reveals layers that almost make the man seem sympathetic, or at least human. And yet, the campaign of wounded terror he exerts over his family, including his brother (Jesse Plemmons), his brother’s wife (Kirsten Dunst) and her teenage son (Kodi Smit-McPhee), is anything but sympathetic.

    The Power of the Dog is the kind of film that reveals itself in layers, slowly peeling back the revelations and character motivations the way a master carver gradually changes common wood into something recognizable, a work of art.  It took me basically the entire length of the film to realize I hadn’t taken a true breath, so enthralled and terrified I was by the brutal artistry unfolding before me. Make no mistake, the film is Campion’s masterpiece, surpassing the already excellent The Piano and establishing herself as one of the most accomplished writer-directors in the world. The Power of the Dog is a true masterpiece in every sense of the word—all aspects from performance to writing to music, cinematography, and editing work together to weave an unforgettable tapestry that cuts deep. From its opening shot to its devastating and haunting climax, it’s truly a film that is not to be missed.

    3. The Father

    Legendary actor Anthony Hopkins deservedly won his second Best Actor Oscar last year for this astonishing portrait of a brilliant mind diminished by the ravages of dementia. Although the film made it to last year’s Oscars due to an extended eligibility deadline, it reached U.S. audiences at the end of February, making it truly a 2021 release. The film also took home an Oscar for best adapted screenplay, which director Florian Zeller adapted from his stage play. It’s astonishing that this accomplished playwright has never written or directed a film before, because this film is as close to perfect as movies get.

    The Father puts audiences in the shoes of someone dealing with memory loss like no film before it. It’s nothing short of breathtaking that a movie can so thoroughly and convincingly mess with your head. Told from Hopkins’ character’s perspective (who is also named Anthony), the film establishes the rules for how we think the events are going to play out, then pulls the rug out from under us. Characters we have been introduced to may suddenly reappear but played by a completely different actor. Entire conversations will be repeated, but suddenly take on a very different tone. The result is disorienting and profoundly upsetting. I remember shouting at the screen, “No, that’s not right. This person is an imposter!” Maybe they are, and maybe they’re not. Nothing is really answered until the film’s haunting final moments, where Hopkins can release the emotions that his character and the audience have been frustratingly unable to articulate for the previous 90 minutes. It’s a remarkably cathartic moment from an actor who is firing on all cylinders, and a potent reminder that film is an incredible tool for generating empathy for those whose experience we can’t directly relate to. What a gift this movie is, to the world of cinema but also to the world of those silently suffering, hoping for someone to understand their pain.

    2. Nomadland

    Here’s the big one, the film that had every critic singing its praises when the end-of-year lists were tallied at the end of 2020. I knew for a fact that this was not going to be on my list last year, because the first available opportunity I had to see it was when it released on Hulu in February. But man, was it ever worth the wait. Nomadland is a salve for a wounded society, a reminder that kindness, gentleness, courage, and compassion are what will bring us together in these trying times.

    Chloe Zhao’s Best Picture Oscar winner follows the life of Fern (played by Frances McDormand, who also won for her portrayal here), a woman in her sixties who loses everything during the Great Recession and embraces her new life as modern-day nomad, traveling across the American landscape as she takes on odd jobs and finds an incredible community of free people across the nation. The film also won a trophy for Zhao’s direction, which, in her trademark style, is both epic and intimate, imbued with tremendous compassion for the outcasts and forgotten members of society. I am so thankful that her work has been recognized and praised so highly (so much so that she took the helm of a big-budget Marvel film in The Eternals, which was also released in 2021).

    Zhao’s most brilliant choice was to cast mostly non-actors as those Fern meets across her travels. This gives the film a documentary-like authenticity, much like she did in The Rider when she cast Brady Jandreau to star in a fictionalized version of his own story suffering from a rodeo-induced skull fracture. Here, that technique works particularly well, as it allows us to get to know and love these people who all have a story and a reason for becoming “homeless,” although most nomads would shudder at that word. Once again, Zhao has crafted a masterpiece of empathy, one that results not in pity or sadness for so-called “outcasts” but, rather, respect and admiration. This life takes courage, grit, and a sense of self that isn’t tied to material possessions or earthly ideas of success. Truly, it feels like many of these folks are closer to God’s Kingdom than the rest of us, so distracted as we are by our politics and our romances and our egos and our stuff. One gets a sense that these folks are living the true American dream, rightly defined: a life of freedom, of purity, of gratitude. We should all be so lucky to hope for such a life, even as we recognize that we wouldn’t wish it upon ourselves or anyone we love. This movie left me feeling convicted, yes, but also uplifted. It truly is a masterpiece that will stand the test of time as an emotional and flawless ode to the lasting impact of the families we make in this life, not just the ones we are given.

    1. Summer of Soul/Procession (tie)

    For my top film of the year, I present to you a two-fer. Documentaries have a sneaky habit of topping my best films of the year list (Time and Won’t You Be My Neighbor being the examples in recent years), and despite the wide variety of films released in 2021, this year continues the trend. These films are very different, but they moved me in equally profound ways, and stand as two of the best documentaries I have ever seen.

    Summer of Soul (Or…When the Revolution Could Not be Televised), is a joyful celebration of the power of music to unite people around an identity rooted in a time and place. Legendary musician Questlove makes his directorial debut here, drawing upon reams of extraordinary footage taken during the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival (also known as black Woodstock) but rendered unused and unseen for 50 years. Questlove takes the time to set the stage, telling us through contemporary talking heads why this festival was so culturally impactful for African Americans and why its themes and revelations echo through to today. But what truly makes this film perhaps the greatest music documentary of all time is the performances, which are given room to play out in their entirety. From the joyous early-career performances of Gladys Knight and the Pips and Stevie Wonder to the socially conscious and controversial musings of Nina Simone, the Harlem Cultural Festival created a perfect storm of black pride and social consciousness. The rage and fear African Americans felt exist hand-in-hand with the hope, pride and redemptive messages that black America embraced despite their hardships. Nowhere is this more pronounced than in the film’s emotional high point, a moving performance of “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” by Mahalia Jackson and Mavis Staples that will have even the hardest cynic in tears. The word “transcendent” is not a word that should be used lightly or regularly when describing a work of art, but it’s the most appropriate word here. If you haven’t experienced it, stop whatever you’re doing and catch in on Hulu right now.

    An equally profound, but far more emotionally brutal, documentary premiered on Netflix at the tail end of November 2021. Procession is an unforgettable testament to the therapeutic power of art, as a group of men connected by the worst possible thread come together to confront the demons of their past and find healing and hope in the power of a brotherhood none of them ever expected or asked for.

    Veteran documentary filmmaker Robert Greene took a big risk in asking for these men to come together, as they all suffered boyhood sexual abuse at the hands of Catholic priests connected to the Kansas City, Missouri diocese. Greene gathered them along with their dedicated attorney and an art therapist to direct a series of short films about how the abuse has affected their lives to this day. In the wrong hands, such material can feel gross or exploitative, and yet, using a similar conceit as that in The Act of Killing, performance brings about revelation and the hope of a way forward. Seeing these men confront their abuse head-on and willingly confront long-buried demons is about the most inspiring thing you could possibly imagine witnessing. They are true heroes in every sense of the word; they have been bent but never broken, wounded, but refusing to be crushed.

    Procession is a remarkably clear-eyed and profound portrait, one that cuts deep by once again showing the healing that art can bring to long-festering wounds. The film balances an appropriate mix of rage and kindness, as the pure evil of what these men experienced is given the full weight it deserves. And yet, the emotional arc of their journey is one that rises out of the darkness into light, where all evil is exposed, and true reconciliation can occur. All the men who participated seem to realize that, while anger is an appropriate and useful emotion, it is not a place in which to make your home. Only by living a life of significance and purpose can we defeat those who have caused so much harm. This documentary is beautiful, haunting, and essential, and for those reasons it is the best film of 2021.

    And here are my 11-20 picks, all great movies that I wish I could have left room for above.

    11. Passing

    12. King Richard

    13. Minari

    14. Spider-Man: No Way Home

    15. Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

    16. Last Night in Soho

    17. Derek Delgaudio’s In & Of Itself

    18. Judas and the Black Messiah

    19. CODA

    20. Spencer

    Blind spots: I saw a heck of a lot of movies this year, but not everything. Some major misses as of this writing include: Quo Vadis, Aida?, Drive My Car, Flee, Days, The Rescue, The Disciple, Limbo, Bergman Island, Mass, C’mon C’mon, Red Rocket, The Hand of God, The French Dispatch, Nine Days, Saint Frances, Pieces of a Woman, Annette, House of Gucci, and The Tragedy of MacBeth. Please let me know if any of these films are worth checking out, or if they rank as some of your favorites of the year!

    My top films of 2020

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    To say that 2020 was a transitional year for film would be a massive understatement. All anyone could seem to talk about when it came to entertainment news was the Coronavirus pandemic. The ensuring confusion caused theaters to shut down and forced studios to either postpone their expensive blockbusters or attempt a digital mode of distribution in the hopes of drawing people to pay for streaming platforms (Mulan on Disney+ and WW1984 on HBO Max being the most notable examples).

    The relative disappearance of high-profile event cinema throughout the year caused many movie fans to bemoan a perceived lack of quality content. Thankfully, the reality is that 2020 was a terrific year for cinema, if not for “movies” in the traditional sense. There was so much to celebrate in the cinematic-year-that-was. For one, stellar documentaries gained widespread acclaim on many streaming platforms, running the gamut from indie oddities like “My Octopus Teacher” and “Dick Johnson is Dead” to highly anticipated events like “Crip Camp” and “Boy’s State.” Not to mention that my favorite film of 2020 happens to be a documentary (see more below).

    Another highlight of 2020 was the number of female directors stealing the spotlight and dominating the awards conversations. Yes, women got some blockbuster love with Niki Caro helming Disney’s “Mulan” live-action remake, but female-led efforts also dominated the critical conversation. For example, Emerald Fennell’s “Promising Young Woman,” Kelly Reichardt’s “First Cow,” Regina King’s “One Night in Miami,” Chloe Zhao’s “Nomadland,” and Radha Blank’s “The Forty-Year-Old Version,” to name just a few.

    But perhaps the most important highlight of 2020 was the sheer amount of quality black voices. In a year that featured massive civil unrest as protests against unjust treatment of black men at the hands of police reached a fever pitch, the movies kept pace by giving us soulful, emotional black stories, ones that defied easy categorization and thankfully steered clear of “black Oscar bait” or “white savior” tropes. Special recognition should go to Steve McQueen for his sensational “Small Axe” anthology, released on Amazon Prime. But compelling stories from people of color were everywhere. I’m thinking of the tragic passing of Chadwick Boseman and his blistering performance in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” almost certain to win him a posthumous Oscar nomination for Best Actor. Other standouts include the devastating documentary “Time,” Spike Lee’s magnum opus “Da 5 Bloods,” Kemp Powers’ one-two punch co-writing both “Soul” and “One Night in Miami,” Aaron Sorkin’s sensitive treatment of the Black Panthers in “Trial of the Chicago 7,” and the fight against black voter suppression documented so powerfully in “All In: The Fight for Democracy” and “Slay the Dragon.”

    2020 was a chaotic year for Hollywood. But, out of that chaos, lovers of cinema had almost unprecedented access to a variety of voices and perspectives, making the year a rich cinematic journey for those willing to seek out its many treasures.

    And now, my 10 favorite films of 2020, along with my 11-20 picks at the end. I hope you enjoy!

    10. The Invisible Man

    Thanks to the lack of available theatres to screen them, this was a sad year for traditional genre films. Thankfully, The Invisible Man came out in February, so a few folks still got to see it on a big screen (or on demand, where it hit shortly after theaters shut down). And this one was more than worth checking out for fans of quality horror/thriller movies. Helmed by actor-turned-director Leigh Whannel who made a name for himself with the severely underrated action flick “Upgrade,” this modern update of the classic universal monster story is heart-pounding nail-biter from its terrifying opening scene to its savagely brutal and cathartic ending. It should be no surprise that Elisabeth Moss is amazing in this, but the way she imbues Cecilia with a weighty determination to not only survive, but get revenge on her murderous ex-lover makes her a feminist badass almost on par with the likes of Ripley from “Alien.” This is one of those “water cooler” movies, where everyone who sees it must talk to someone else about just how cool the whole thing was. This is the unfortunately rare thriller that just simply works, and works with style, from beginning to end.

    9. First Cow

    Writer-director Kelly Reichardt has earned herself a small but vocal following among cinephiles who swoon over her richly drawn characters and slavish attention to period detail in films like “Meek’s Cutoff,” “Wendy and Lucy” and “Certain Women.” Though I hesitate to say that “First Cow” will win her tons of new fans, it is certainly the best film she has made to date. The script, adapted from a novel by Jonathan Raymond, is so fascinating that it you almost forget you aren’t really watching much “happen” in terms of plot. But no film this year has felt more richly lived-in than this; the grimy re-creation of 19th century Oregon is a stark reminder of the savagery and poverty that drew such a stark contrast with the stunning natural beauty of the land. At her best, Reichardt draws favorable comparisons to Terrence Malick, and that comparison fits here.

    But, what really makes “First Cow” such a memorable experience is the relationship at its center. No, not between man and cow, although such a bond is present. I’m talking about the unlikely friendship between traveling chef Cookie (a quietly compelling John Magaro) and Chinese immigrant King-Lu (Orion Lee). The film telegraphs early on that these two will form a strong bond, but the actors sell that idea and draw us ever closer to the intimacies of the story, little by little. This is a film that speaks with a quiet and reverent voice, which somehow makes its impact even more powerful. Sometimes, we need to slow down and appreciate the beauty of a simple story, exquisitely told.

    8. Dick Johnson is Dead

    What a kooky, heady, weird, profound delight this film is. Kirsten Johnson’s strange tribute to her father is both a love letter to a man and a mourning, as that man slowly suffers from the effects of dementia. This somber meditation sets director Johnson’s mind on the inevitability of death, and she has an interesting mode of therapy: theater. That is, dressing her father up and “killing” him in various ways. He falls down a flight of stairs. He is struck by falling debris. He acts out his own funeral and a fantasy sequence where he enters Heaven’s gates. The humor is, obviously, pretty dark, and the behind-the-scenes footage of how the “kills” were set up, complete with stunt doubles and squib packs, doesn’t lessen the shock of seeing Dick die over and over.

    But the movie works mostly because it is so funny. Richard Johnson is an absolute character, and I’m thankful that Kirsten decided to share him with the world. His ability to so willingly go along with his daughter’s bizarre experiments reveal a sweet and tender man who is also absolutely down for pretty much anything. You will cackle with laughter, but watch out, because the very next scene may have you reaching for tissues, as it did me. This movie is weird, but, much like “The Act of Killing,” the artifice of the drama allows us to approach some heady topics in a way that doesn’t feel like a manipulative chore. Leave it do a “dead” man to teach us all what it means to live.

    7. Sound of Metal

    “’Sound of Metal’ is the kind of riveting drama you have to unglue your eyes from the screen after watching. I felt such a special connection to the characters and themes of this film, and I appreciate everyone involved for making such a raw, compassionate dramatization of the experience of being deaf.

    Riz Ahmed’s award-worthy performance as Ruben, a drummer in a metal band who quite suddenly and inexplicably loses his hearing, gives us a unique outsider’s perspective into coming to terms with a disability and the prospect of a radically changed life. Ruben, like many of us would, I suppose, does not transition gracefully into his disability. In fact, he is constantly scheming to raise money for a costly procedure that he believes will restore his hearing and allow him to resume a semblance of a normal life with his faithful girlfriend Lou (Olivia Cooke). But Ruben is also a recovering drug addict, and so he ends up in a recovery center run by a man named Joe (a scene-stealing Paul Raci), who has plans for Ruben to integrate into the community and accept his disability as part of his new normal. But Ruben still has other plans for his future.

    Along with the phenomenal performances, the film is also particularly noteworthy for its sound design, which is some of the best I have ever heard in a movie. The sound really immerses us into what Ruben is hearing at any given moment, as conversations become muted muddles and we struggle and strain to hear something, anything that sounds like normal. The cumulative effect is overwhelming, and it speaks to the power of cinema to take a very familiar redemptive story arc and imbue it with new life. I wouldn’t call the ending of the film happy, per se, but it does feel true, and I so badly want Ruben to be happy that I will follow him anywhere. It takes a special film to engender that kind of emotion, and “Sound of Metal” is certainly that.

    6. Da 5 Bloods

    Veteran director Spike Lee’s follow up to his incredible “BlacKkKlansman” is another oddly titled and extraordinarily unsubtle examination of the legacy of violence. Infused with Lee’s singular and urgent voice, “Da 5 Bloods” did not disappoint.

    Following a squad of black U.S. Army Veterans as they reunite in Vietnam in the hopes of digging up some buried gold, the film, in both playful and serious ways, powerfully explores the issues of black patriotism and the ways in which PTSD affects the machismo of the soldier who is either unable or unwilling to move on from the sins of the past. These themes are fleshed out with fascinating details, such as the fact that Paul (an amazing Delroy Lindo) wears a MAGA hat and gets ribbed by his fellow vets for being a Trump supporter. As the film moves on, the violence becomes surprisingly graphic, as the injustice of unexploded land mines serves as another visual reminder of the horrors of war being passed down through the generations.

    It should be noted that much of the film’s power lies on the shoulders of the late Chadwick Boseman. Along with his astonishing performance in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” his performance here as the heroic Stormin’ Norman was one of his last, and best. Although Norman was killed in the war, the legacy of everything he meant to his squad mates permeates almost every scene, and Boseman’s presence hangs heavy over the entire film. In a film full of provocative themes and stellar performances, his stands out as something truly special. He is, undeniably, a legend.

    5. Boys State

    As an alumnus of the California Boys’ State 2008, I eagerly awaited the arrival of this intimate documentary. I was even more excited when I realized that this exhaustively deep dive into the intricacies of mock politics was being brought to us by Amanda McBaine and Jesse Moss, who graced us with one of my top 10 (maybe even top 5) documentaries of all time, “The Overnighters.” And I’m glad my excitement was not overblown, because this one is pretty damn good, too.

    No movie this year captured our current political moment quite as potently as “Boy’s State.” Following a Texas delegation of high school juniors, chosen by the American Legion, to gather at the state capitol for a week and create their own mock government from the ground up, the film expertly threads the needle between giving viewers both hope and horror for the future of our nation. We watch as idealism is quickly overrun by blind party loyalty, as teenagers espouse values to a crowd that they themselves admit in private to not believing in. We watch the cutthroat use of social media to demonize “the other side,” taking them out of context and mocking them for their perceived hypocrisies. It’s all rather exhausting.

    And yet, the film reminds us that there is hope for the future in those who find things worth fighting for. This hope is exemplified most clearly in Steven Garza, a passionate advocate for gun reform who tries to mollify a rabidly pro-second amendment populace in his race to become the “governor” of Texas over the brilliant and fiery conservative Ben Feinstein. It is a cutthroat competition, but when the dust settles, many of the boys are surprisingly reflective about how it all went down, and how easily they reverted to their baser instincts and abandoned their better angels to win. This is all presented through breathtakingly thorough camerawork and brilliant editing and music. It’s truly the documentary as art form, and also as democratic self-reflection—chances are, though, that you may not like what you find staring back at you.

    4. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

    It’s safe to say that writer-director Charlie Kaufman is an acquired taste. From generally beloved weird classics like “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” and “Being John Malkovich” to more impenetrable head-scratchers like “Synecdoche, New York,” the groundbreaking auteur has garnered his share of diehard fans as well as naysayers. His latest effort, “I’m Thinking of Ending Things,” based on the book by Iain Reid, is unlikely to change many hearts and minds. And yet, for the Kaufman diehards (and the adventurous cinema fan), it’s an absolutely rapturous experience.

    Kaufman’s scripts tend to excel at conveying the interior life of the mind through both trippy visuals and idiosyncratic dialogue, and this is perhaps the most purely entertaining and clear use of those elements. From the long, heady car-ride conversations between a “young woman” (played by a never-better Jessie Buckley—and yes, that’s really the character’s name) and her eccentric boyfriend Jake (Jesse Plemmons), to unforgettable images like an ice cream stand in the middle of nowhere and an animated, maggot-infested pig, the film is designed to sear into your memory, regardless of whether you really understand all that is going on by the end.

    Here, I think, is an important distinction between “Ending Things” and, say, Christopher Nolan’s “Tenet,” another highly anticipated 2020 film. “Tenet” is a headscratcher wrapped inside of an enigma, and it’s hard to shake the feeling that, while you need to watch it twice to comprehend everything that happens, you’re not sure there’s much “there” there to chew on. With this film, I got to a point where I was enjoying the journey more than the destination, and I would gladly watch it again to help myself unravel some of those threads. There’s a difference between complex and complicated and I think Kaufman walks that line brilliantly here.

    “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” comes with many caveats. Watch it without having any idea what it’s about. Immerse yourself in the stellar performances and rapturous cinematography (brought to us by the wonderful Polish cinematographer Lukasz Zal). Don’t watch the film if you’re dealing with depression, because, as enjoyable as it is, it is also existentially bleak and immensely heavy. You may find yourself needing a nap when it’s all over. But oh, the dreams you will have!

    3. Soul/Wolfwalkers

    This past year graced us with two animated classics. I loved them both so much, I decided to give them a shared spot.

    “Wolfwalkers” is the true masterpiece of Irish animation studio Cartoon Saloon’s impressive body of work. The third of director Tomm Moore’s unofficial “Irish folklore” trilogy, it is, put bluntly, the most beautiful animated film ever made. Cartoon Saloon has always excelled at invigorating traditional hand-drawn animation with an M.C. Escher-like energy, but the advances in technology, along with the gorgeous lines and vibrant colors, give the film the feeling of a painting come to life. There’s no way the story would have had the same impact if it was done with CGI animation, and it’s a testament to the power of the medium that a traditional 2D animated feature can still inspire such awe and wonder.

    The story is not exactly revolutionary. A sheltered city girl who befriends a half-human, half-wolf, helps her tribe fight back against encroaching industrialization that threatens their home and their ancient connection to the land. At times, it reminded me very much of Hayao Miyazaki’s “Princess Mononoke.” But “Mononoke” is my all-time favorite animated film, so I guess if you’re going to borrow, it might as well be from the best. Regardless of its inspirations, “Wolfwalkers” should rightly be considered a classic, thanks to its stunningly beautiful animation and richly defined characters.

    While we’re on the subject of beautiful animation, let’s talk about “Soul,” Pixar’s latest original stunner. The great Pete Doctor (who helmed such favorites as “Monster’s Inc.,” “Inside Out” and “Up,”) returns for another ambitious, joyful and thoroughly profound film. From first frame to last, “Soul” is bursting with creativity, imagination, and heart. Of course, we’ve come to expect nothing less from the geniuses at Pixar, but they have hit a few snags in recent years. This is no snag.

    This is the kind of flick that, were you to watch the trailers, you think you would have figured out, or at least understand the general direction it was going. Thankfully, Doctor and co-writer Kemp Powers manage to blindside us at every turn as the tale of jazz musician Joe Gardner and his increasingly desperate efforts to re-unite his spirit with his body after “dying” take on more elaborate and profound implications. Much as Docter did with “Inside Out,” he is obviously grasping for topics, emotions and themes that are way outside the bounds of traditional kids’ movies. Even for a company known for taking risks, it’s somewhat of a miracle that this ever got the green light. It is a weird movie, and I mean that as the highest compliment. I’d also make the argument that, like much of Docter’s other work, it’s not really a very good “kids” movie. Many of the ideas the film delves into are not exactly ones you want babysitting your child, prone as they are to reflecting on the afterlife, religion, art, and the meaning of life. But then, Pixar doesn’t often make movies to occupy kids’ imaginations. Instead, they desire to challenge them in ways that a parent should probably be on hand to discuss afterwards. All I can say for the adults in the audience is that “Soul” is everything I want in an animated movie. The fact that it is drop-dead gorgeous and features a superb score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (along with compositions by the great Jon Batiste), make it even more endearing. For those who love art, music, or life in general, “Soul” is a deeply moving adventure that may just help you discover your purpose in life. How many animated movies can you say that about?

    2. Small Axe Anthology

    The question has bounced back and forth across the internet: Is Steve McQueen’s five-film “Small Axe” anthology series, released on Amazon, a movie, or a limited TV series? When we have stories this personal and inspiring, who really cares?

    McQueen has gifted lovers of quality filmmaking five beautiful stories of celebration and resilience, focused upon the struggles and the victories of the West Indian Immigrant community in London between the 1960s and the 1980s. All five films, while distinct from one another, are woven together in a broad tapestry that celebrates the importance of community and brotherhood in the fight for liberation and equality.

    There are so many moments to celebrate in McQueen’s impeccably crafted and deeply emotional stories. The highlight, to my mind, is “Lovers Rock,” a near-perfect shout of joy that preaches the beauty of West Indian culture as a cast of memorable characters meet up at a house in West London. The swooning camerawork and incredible soundtrack are hypnotic in their celebration of black pride and the way that music is explicitly tied to the fight for people of color to let loose and be themselves.  

    McQueen also tackles the struggle for racial justice as he chronicles the trial of the “Mangrove” 9 in the 1970s, where black freedom fighters must come up against an entire justice system designed to oppress them. The film is brilliantly written and anchored by stellar performances from Letitia Wright and Shaun Parkes. The struggle for justice continues with “Red, White and Blue,” which stars a riveting John Boyega as Leroy Logan, a black officer with the London Metropolitan Police who attempted to reform the racist attitudes of the organization from within.

    The fight for black equality is given much funnier and lighter treatment in “Education,” which dramatizes the efforts of West Indian parents to get their children to receive academically equitable schooling, rather than resigning them to so-called “schools” for the “educationally subnormal.” It’s hard not to draw parallels to more modern strands of racism in education systems around the world, and some of the revelations of the film are indeed shocking. But it’s all handled with such a wonderfully light and humorous hand, and is anchored by a spirited Kenyah Sandy, one of the best child actors in recent memory.

    Finally, there is the true story of “Alex Wheatle,” which chronicles the British novelist’s life, from his childhood in a mostly white institutional care home to his embracing of West Indian community in Brixton, to his incarceration during the Brixton Uprising in 1981. The film continues the theme of music as a unifying force in the anthology, as Wheatle gains a passion for music and DJing that imbue him with a sense of purpose and connection to his true ancestry. The film is lively and graces us with another bright young actor in lead Sheyi Cole.

    Taken as a whole, “Small Axe” feels like a vital piece of art in a year where black people were faced anew with the struggle for equality. It may not seem like the George Floyd protests have anything to do with West Indian communities in London decades ago. With his trademark craftmanship and slavish attention to detail, McQueen has gifted us with an artistic statement on the ways that the cry for freedom rings throughout the generations, and how true loving community is the major healing force for oppressed minorities to find true liberation and purpose.

    1. Time

    This past year has been one of tremendous loss and grief for many. As we begin to pick ourselves up and put back the pieces, we begin to wonder how we account for the time we have lost. Garrett Bradley’s masterful documentary “Time” is a profoundly moving examination of one family’s struggle with that same dilemma.

    Bradley combines extensive home video with original footage to give his audience an achingly accurate snapshot of what true loss looks like. Through this, we get to know the daily life of Fox Rich, an inspiring woman fighting for prison reform as she struggles to commute the 60-year prison sentence of her husband Rob, serving time in the Louisiana State Penitentiary for bank robbery.

    Through Rich’s eyes, we see the exhausting struggle to fight what the world might call a losing battle, as Rich balances her mission of determination with her career and raising her children. In this process, we get an intimate glimpse into the injustices of the prison industrial complex and the devastation it can have on ordinary families, particularly families of color.

    What makes the film even more intriguing is the fact that Rich robbed the bank with her husband and served time herself. These are not innocent or wrongfully convicted people. Thus, the film occupies a unique space in confronting these issues head-on: what does it mean to “repay a debt” to society, and how is that debt viewed by those who hold the keys to freedom?

    These questions are driven home through stunning black and white cinematography, and astonishing camerawork, as Bradley lingers on faces and images that convey the anguish of waiting. This culminates in a breathtaking climax that delves into the fantasy of what it would look like to buy back time, recognizing, of course, that such a thing is impossible. “Time” reminds us that the passage of time is something we have no control over. What we do with that time, however? That is up to us.  

    Honorable mention: Hamilton

    I went back and forth on Disney’s filmed version of Lin Manuel Miranda’s Broadway smash hit “Hamilton.” Is this a movie? If so, it’s far and away the best I saw this year. But, in so many ways, it’s not a movie. Ultimately, I didn’t feel like it was fair to award something that has essentially been around for years—albeit, now, to a much larger audience—with a spot on my top 10 list. But I think it’s important to include a shout-out to it neverthless, because “Hamilton” is an absolutely incredible experience that shouldn’t be missed by anyone with a pulse. Look on YouTube any given day and you will see hundreds, if not thousands, of “Hamilton” parody videos. It’s a certified cultural phenomenon, and it deserves all of the accolades it has received and more. Shows like this come along rarely, so enjoy the brilliance for yourself. “Hamilton” is available to stream on Disney+.

    My 11—20 picks:

    • 11. The Trial of the Chicago 7
    • 12. Crip Camp
    • 13. One Night in Miami
    • 14. The Forty-Year-Old Version
    • 15. The Social Dilemma
    • 16. Palm Springs
    • 17. My Octopus Teacher
    • 18. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
    • 19. The Vast of Night
    • 20. Mank

    Blind spots:

    2020 was a strange year; films that I would have likely gotten to see ended up being pushed back due to extended eligibility windows for awards. And so, several of the most celebrated movies of the year are absolutely nowhere to be found for the average moviegoer. With that being said, both “Nomadland” and “Minari” are to be considered 2021 movies for my purposes, since I can’t see them until February at the earliest.

    Other films of note I have yet to see as of this writing include “Collective,” “Beanpole,” “Athlete A,” “Saint Frances,” “Bacurau,” “Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets,” “The Assistant,” “Kajillionaire,” “The Painter and the Thief,” “The Personal History of David Copperfield,” “The True History of the Kelly Gang,” “Color Out of Space,” “The King of Staten Island,” “News of the World,” “Promising Young Woman,” “Tigertail” and “Bill & Ted Face the Music.” Let me know which of these are worth checking out!

    My Top 10 Films of 2019

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    From one perspective, the year in cinema that was 2019 was a letdown. Massive flops, both critical and commercial, littered the Hollywood landscape. Even Disney, which had its most financially successful year on record, could be accused of running into a creative slump, with remakes and sequels winning out over more thoughtful original content.

    And yet, for folks who see a lot of movies (like me), 2019 was easily the best year for film in recent memory. I would go so far as to say that it was my favorite year for film overall since I began this blog in 2012. Some of the industry’s most celebrate auteurs dropped new defining works (hello Tarantino, Malick, Scorsese and Baumbach), and I was consistently impressed with how many movies moved me or stunned me with their technical prowess (The Lighthouse and 1917 are two standouts on that front).

    Sure, there were some disappointing films that didn’t live up to their potential, but I found a lot to like even in movies that weren’t technically great (It: Chapter Two and Godzilla: King of the Monsters are two of my greatest guilty pleasures of 2019). Overall, I’ve found so many movies this year that stretched the boundaries of what it means to make good art, and I was saddened putting together this year’s list to discover that so many wonderful movies did not have room in my top 10 or even my top 20.

    2019 was truly a landmark year for cinema, and you will find not only my favorites of the year below, but also some of my favorites of the decade and perhaps even of all-time. Without further ado, here is my personal list of the top 10 films of 2019.

    10. John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum

    The latest and most vibrant evidence of the action movie as a true art form, this third film in Keanu Reeves’ increasingly popular action franchise is the best one yet. It’s a true stunner, with beautifully (and brutally) designed action sequences (hello horses!) along with a gripping story that continues to expand the intriguing mythos of this world of gentlemen assassins. I loved seeing more of Laurence Fishburne’s Bowery King, continuing the Matrix reunion we didn’t know we needed, and Asia Kate Dillon’s Adjudicator makes for an intimidating antagonist. Director Chad Stahelski is set to helm chapter 4 in 2021, and action afficionados like me are already counting down the days.

    9. Us

    Jordan Peele’s stunning follow-up to his electric Get Out is a much more epic affair, using the horror genre as a backdrop for a larger examination of racial identity in America and the ways in which systems marginalize the already vulnerable. The fact that Us is so immensely satisfying as a pure genre exercise is icing on an already delicious cake. Anchored by Lupita Nyong’o’s stunning dual performance as both captive (Adelaide) and tormentor (Red), the film is a downright disturbing descent into madness. The theme of duality and doppelgangers is hammered home in a terrific twist that, while not making tremendous logical sense, serves to deepen the thoughtful themes and provocative questions. Peele has got a lot on his mind, and I am along for every disturbing and twisted minute.

    8. Little Women

    Greta Gerwig’s incessantly charming adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s often-filmed novel is a work of tremendous beauty, kindness and grace. Suffice it to say, these are traits we could use a lot more of. As a terrific actor herself, Gerwig pulls pretty incredible performances from her cast (including a never-better Saoirse Ronan, Laura Dern, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Eliza Scanlen and Timotee Chalamet), and her script is anchored by a deep reverence for the source material along with a modern feminist streak that infuses the story with an energetic sense of defiance over a woman’s perceived inability to choose what will become of her life.

    This film left a huge smile on my face, and it will likely be the gold standard for a whole new generation of fans. I hope they treasure it as much as I do.

    7. Apollo 11

    Seeing Todd Douglas Miller’s arresting documentary in IMAX was a truly transformative experience. I’ve always loved space stories and the wonder they inspire and seeing never-before-released footage of Neil Armstrong and company’s legendary expedition to the moon was mind-blowing. It’s hard to imagine how some of this footage was even captured, but Miller does a great job of letting the images speak for themselves. There are no talking heads, no narration—just the infectious energy of a moment in history that changed how we see ourselves and our place in the universe. Apollo 11 is a living testament to the endless ingenuity and indefatigable hope of humanity and seeing actual color video footage of that first step onto the moon ranks among my favorite cinematic moments of the year.

    6. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

    I will readily admit that I am a Tarantino fanatic—I love the energy he brings to his projects, his passion for cinema that radiates out of every frame. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood contains many of the director’s hat tricks—historical revisionism, a vintage soundtrack, witty and profane dialogue, sudden bursts of graphic violence—but it is also tinged with a sense of tragedy and loss of innocence that bear the mark of a more mature filmmaker. The brilliance of the film is in the way those two sides of Tarantino are balanced—the hubris and the humanism, the provocateur and the ponderer.

    It certainly helps that Tarantino has eked out some career-best performances from the likes of Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio and Margot Robbie, performances that help this charming and affable tale of the end of Hollywood’s golden era come magically to life. To me, it’s ultimately the small moments that make this movie so special, from the plethora of hilarious cameos to the conversations that unfold between friends over a couple of drinks.

    And one more thing: some critics were not fans of the movie’s final act, which re-frames the Manson murders as a night of cathartic violence, rather than unbearable heartbreak. I found it to be shocking, funny, and, ultimately, moving, my favorite ending to any movie released this year. I never saw where Once Upon a Time in Hollywood was going next, and I imagine I will enjoy plumbing its depths for years to come.

    5. The Irishman

    Martin Scorsese is nothing short of a cinematic legend. Over his long career, he has crafted some of the most technically daring, profoundly moving and downright entertaining films of his generation. I am happy to consider one of his breakout films, Taxi Driver, as my all-time favorite film. All this to say, when I heard of the director making another gangster epic in the vein of Casino or Goodfellas, I assumed I knew what I was getting. But, as he ages, Scorsese finds new ways to keep surprising us, and The Irishman has as much in common with the director’s more spiritual works (Kundun, The Last Temptation of Christ, Silence) as it does his gangster flicks.

    Make no mistake, this is still a top-tier mob movie. Steve Zaillian’s meaty script is rife with rich time-hopping moments charting the rise of union boss Jimmy Hoffa (a brilliant Al Pacino) and his eventual mysterious disappearance. The film is not a biopic, but instead uses the historical relationship between Hoffa and hitman Frank Sheeran (Robert DeNiro) as a jumping-off point for a rumination on the personal cost of a life of crime. Much like Clint Eastwood re-contextualized the westerns that made his career in Unforgiven, Scorsese seems to be reflecting on the legacy of a life lived for the purpose of taking life from others. At the end of the road is isolation and regret, as we see in a haunting final image that is seared into my memory. Yes, The Irishman may be long, but it is an uncommonly rich and rewarding tale, even in a career filled with them.

    4. Avengers: Endgame

    One of the biggest pop-culture moments of 2019 also produced one of its most emotional and satisfying movies.  What Marvel has done with its cinematic universe is nothing short of legendary, and part of that success is owed to the film that caps it off. Endgame is a true stunner, an epic payoff that wraps up the main story thread of Marvel’s 20(+) film universe while also standing on its own as a great example of the way artistry can still be infused into big-budget blockbuster entertainment.

    From its quiet and somber opening sequence, it’s clear that this is a different caliber of comic book superhero film. While the lengthy film (3 hours!) is full of generous humor and memorable character moments, the weight of what faces our heroes is conveyed with appropriate gravitas and even despair. But Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely’s script also satisfies on a pure story level, guiding us through delightful time-hopping adventures that leave plenty of space for most major characters to have their moment in the spotlight. And, in a year where “fan service” could be identified with laziness (I see you, Star Wars), here is a film that fleshed out that term to the best possible degree. It’s hard to imagine any fan of these characters or this decade-spanning series of movies being anything other than enthralled and moved by this power punch of a finale. Endgame stands out not only for what has come before it, but for being one of the best comic-based films of all time on its own merits.

    3. A Hidden Life

    I saw this film just a few days ago and was almost ready to write my list without it. As a gigantic fan of the films of Terrence Malick, I’m so glad I waited. No other film this year so stirred my emotions and my yearning to live a life of true calling and conviction. Easily Malick’s best film since his masterpiece The Tree of Life, the film is a somber meditation on the cost (and reward) of faithful Christian discipleship in a world consumed with turning a blind eye to evil. As Malick chronicles the true story of Austrian Franz (the underrated August Diehl) and his refusal to swear an oath of loyalty to Adolf Hitler during WWII, we see a deeply personal and moving example of how people of faith can engage in quiet, non-violent acts of disobedience in their struggle to render unto Caesar while still standing apart for the cause of Christ.

    As a Christian, I’ve long championed the work of Terrence Malick as a prime example of how to integrate faith and art into modern cinema. The travesty of many “Christian” films is their desire to preach a message rather than use art to tell a story. The result is often artless and a poor imitation of the might and majesty the true love of Christ can engender in a human being. Malick doesn’t preach a message so much as bare his soul. His films are best experienced by letting them wash over you: everything from James Newton Howard’s gorgeous score to Jorg Widmer’s stunning cinematography is meant to be a sensory experience that lingers in the mind.

    I’m willing to admit that this lengthy rumination on faith and courage could have been cut down a bit, but the film has a quiet momentum that builds to a powerful climax that had me weeping openly. It stands along the likes of Silence, Calvary, and First Reformed as a prime example that religious filmmaking can still look more like the Sistine Chapel than God’s Not Dead. And I say “Amen” to that.

    2. Marriage Story

    Writer/Director Noah Baumbach has always been a thoughtful examiner of the human condition, but I’ve felt his work to be more clinical than emotional. I’d say his films are often more interested in what makes people tick than in what brings passion to their lives. Throw all of those criticisms out the window with Marriage Story, because it is a warm, humanist miracle of a movie.

    Baumbach’s chronicling of the disintegration of a marriage is devastating but also funny, trading in the idiosyncrasies of a shared life falling apart at the seams. We see moments of savagery and moments of great love. We see the ugliness of humanity alongside its indescribable beauty. We see the paradox that forgiving someone doesn’t mean you have to forget how they have hurt you.

    Baumbach’s compassionate perspective is enhanced by truly mesmerizing lead performances from Adam Driver and Scarlett Johannsson as the couple in question, a struggling playwright and a breakout actress both suffering their own share of insecurities and egos. The truly stellar supporting cast includes Wallace Shawn, Laura Dern and Alan Alda in roles that will have you alternately wanting to pull your hair out and breathe a sigh of relief. Randy Newman’s sensitive score also heightens the emotions of the film considerably.

    This is the kind of film that sinks its teeth in you from first frame to last. It’s not exactly a “fun” movie, but it has more moments of joy than the subject matter may suggest. Mostly, I am in awe of how Baumbach can treat each of his characters with such grace, patience and kindness. There is nary a false note or wasted moment in this truly great film.

    1. Parasite

    Korean director Bong Joon Ho’s savage tale of the haves and the have-nots has been the obsession of cinephiles ever since it won the prestigious Palme D’or at the Cannes Film Festival. Allow me to join in the praises. “Instant classic” is not a phrase that should be thrown around lightly, but it’s the first that comes to mind when I think about this completely unpredictable, endlessly imaginative and technically brilliant satire.

    One of the things that has drawn me to Joon Ho’s work is his passion for social justice and caring for the environment (see Snowpiercer, Okja, The Host). Here, he takes those themes to new levels of profundity and absurdity, as he mixes dark comedy and truly powerful ruminations on the relationship between poverty and opportunity. The Kim family represents the working class, with side hustles and get-rich-quick schemes abounding. The Park family represents the upper class of society—oblivious to the world around them and clueless (perhaps even hostile) to the suffering of those around them.

    We would be remiss to call any of these people role models, filled as their story is with deception and struggles for power, but they are immensely sympathetic. This is apparent not only in how they are written, but in the performances. Terrific Korean actors such as Kang-ho Song, Sun-Kyun Lee and Yeo-jeong Jo help us to understand the plight of their characters through both their subtleties and their extremes.

    Rarely has a film been so thoroughly unpredictable as this one. For a film to truly surprise you moment-by-moment—with its heart, its humor, its twists and its technical brilliance—is a rare thing indeed. Bong Joon Ho has used all the pleasures that cinema has to offer—haunting music, unforgettable imagery, astounding performances and brilliant plotting—to craft a picture that fires on every possible cylinder. Don’t let the subtitles scare you. As Joon Ho himself said when he accepted the Golden Globe for best Foreign Language Film, “Once you overcome the 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films.” Indeed, no English-language film (or film in any language) released this year was more amazing than this one.

    Since I had such a hard time narrowing my list down to 10, here are my picks for the best films 11—20 I saw in 2019. Knives Out

    11. Knives Out

    12. The Farewell

    13. 1917

    14. Ad Astra

    15. Just Mercy

    16. Toy Story 4

    17. The Lighthouse

    18. The Peanut Butter Falcon

    19. American Factory

    20. The Art of Self-Defense

    I saw a lot of movies this year, but there were still some blind spots. Here are the major ones:

    For Sama, Long Day’s Journey Into Night, Pain and Glory, The Wild Pear Tree, Honeyland, Ash is Purest White, Birds of Passage, Atlantics, Booksmart, The Last Black Man in San Francisco, Western Stars, Funan, Gloria Bell, Waves, High Life, The Nightingale, Brittany Runs a Marathon, Late Night, Honey Boy, Peterloo, Judy, Bombshell, Richard Jewell.

    My Top 10 Films of 2018

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    Despite my writing absence from this site, I was able to see a ton of movies this year. And man, was it a good one. This is easily the best year for film as a whole since I started this blog (so six years now, I believe). I began losing track of four-star great movies I saw this year, which naturally made making a top 10 list particularly challenging for 2018. Nevertheless, I persisted, although you will notice that I have a significant number of “ties;” some might say this is breaking the rules, but this is my list and I can do what I want.

    This year, I was most appreciative of films that reflected the goodness of humanity. Every time we turn on the news, it seems there is so much wrong with the world and the people in it. I love a good dark drama, but I think we were all looking for something to lift our spirits up and give us some hope. Not all of this year’s films did that, but most of them did. These were the films I found most beautiful, thought-provoking, emotional or enjoyable in 2018. Cheers to another great year of movies!

    10. GAME NIGHT

    I feel like this brilliant comedy was overlooked by some critics because, well, it’s a comedy. But man, what a ride! This brilliantly crafted knee-slapper stars Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams as a game board-loving couple who are forced into a game more dangerous than they imagined when Bateman’s trouble-making brother (a hilarious Kyle Chandler) comes to town. There are enough twists and turns in this labyrinthine plot to make your head spin, but there’s also great running gags, top-notch visual humor and incredible acting all-around. Also, the one-shot Fabergé egg heist is one of the best action sequences of the year, right up there with the casino fight in Black Panther. Rarely are mainstream comedies this exquisitely constructed.

    9. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE–FALLOUT

    Imagine the most badass 2 ½ hour roller coaster, and you have a faint idea of what you’re in for with the sixth installment of the Mission: Impossible franchise, and the best one yet. This impeccably crafted thrill ride is one of the best action movies this decade. Tom Cruise reprises his role as Ethan Hunt, and there are enough synthetic masks and double crosses to fill three movies. Yeah, the plot is a bit ridiculous and complicated, but dear lord, the action in this movie is some of the best ever put to screen. This is mostly due to Cruise, who has always insisted on doing his own stunts and pumps the daredevil antics up to a level never seen before. From skydiving to helicopter flying, motorcycle chases and leaping across rooftops, Cruise and director Christopher McQuarrie consistently keep a lump in our throats and our nails clawing out our chairs. What makes this one such a blast is that it just nails that M:I tone of being dramatic without taking itself too seriously. When people are constantly pulling off masks and revealing themselves to be in disguise, it’s hard to get too serious. The terrific supporting cast and lightning-quick dialogue help to keep the pace frenetic, and the whole thing feels like an intense labor of love that, miraculously, everyone survived. Well, almost anyways. I saw this bad boy in IMAX and barely made it out unscathed. Action films this heart-pounding and polished are a rare and beautiful thing.

    8. ROMA

    Critics can not stop raving about Alfonso Cuaron’s latest masterpiece, and it’s easy to see why. The veteran director’s intimate, autobiographical look at a nanny and the family she serves amidst the civil unrest of 1970s Mexico City is a jaw-dropper. Filmed in stunning black-and-white, Cuaron captures the look and feel of the era with painfully accurate detail, and invites us in for the journey. Thanks to Cuaron’s own eye-popping cinematography, extraordinary sound design and a wonderful performance from Yalitza Aparicio, this is an undeniably emotional experience. It’s also, I must say, a bit slow, and I can’t say it had quite the impact on me that it is having on a lot of other folks. It’s one I need to see again, on a bigger screen and a better sound system when I’m less tired. I know this is the kind of quality film that deserves my utmost attention, but for now Roma is comfortably one of the best films I saw in 2018, rather than the far-and-away best. Yet, there are several scenes that will stick with me for a long time.

    7. THE RIDER

    I found Chloe Zhao’s stunning portrait of a professional horse rider dealing with the fallout of a traumatic brain injury to be one of the more gripping films I’ve seen in some time. The Rider is the kind of film that sneaks up on you as it paints an exquisite portrait of life lived on the margins. The film seems to be “about” rodeo riders, but it’s more deeply about how to live life when our dreams don’t go how we expect them to. I definitely cried watching this one. Brady Jandreau plays a fictionalized version of himself, and his performance feels all the more authentic given that he’s lived out his character in real life. The film’s use of naturalistic actors could have been a big miss (see Clint Eastwood’s 15:17 to Paris), but in Zhao’s capable hands they help convey something natural and beautiful. For those at a crossroads in life or feeling like they might have to give up on a long-held dream or passion, The Rider is a box-of-hankies salve for bitter souls.

    6. BLACK PANTHER/BLACKkKLANSMAN/SORRY TO BOTHER YOU/GREEN BOOK 

    This terrific quartet all made an impact this year due to their diverse and wild perspectives on the black experience in America. I loved them all so much I decided they should share a spot.

    Black Panther is the rare film that enthralled both critics and audiences alike, an even rarer feat in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The film definitely works as a superhero origin story and as a vehicle for spectacular action set pieces (see the aforementioned casino fight or the subsequent car chase), but it digs deeper by examining the roots behind racial tensions in America and giving us the best Marvel villain yet: Erik Kilmonger, played by a brilliant Michael B. Jordan. Through Kilmonger, Jordan forces us to confront our own biases and the way we’ve stood by as black people suffered in the name of peace. He’s the rare villain that actually ends up changing the hero’s mind, although the way he goes about his mission is nothing to be praised. Thankfully, the hero is pretty great too, giving another avenue for Chadwick Boseman to show off his considerable talents. But it’s the ladies who really steal the show here, with terrific actors like Letitia Wright, Danai Gurira and Lupita Nyong’o getting to show off their badassery and prove that the ladies can throw down as much as the men can any day. Wakanda Forever!

    Far less subtle in its racial overtones is Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman, a based-on-a-true-story tale as in-your-face and controversial as anything the veteran director has done. This is not a sensitive racial drama, but it is a powerful one, if you prefer a bludgeon to a scalpel. The chaotic “friendship” between a Colorado Springs undercover police officer (John David Washington) and KKK leader David Duke (a never-better Topher Grace) is frequently hilarious and disturbing, sometimes in the same scene. Lee does a great job of pulling our strings until we’re not sure whether we should be cackling or muttering uncomfortably under our breath. It’s a terrific high-wire act that could have easily felt overstuffed or manipulative in less capable hands. But, from Lee’s impeccable direction to an amazing soundtrack and committed performances (Adam Driver is especially good), the whole thing works. Oh, and watch out for that ending—it will sneak up on you.

    Sorry to Bother You is an even darker racial comedy that marks the directorial debut of Boots Riley, who proves he has something to say. The always great Lakeith Stanfield leads us down a wild and disturbing path, as his Cassius Green makes his way up the corporate ladder by using his “white voice” to manipulate telemarketing customers to buy from him. His increasingly cushy job is soon at odds with his social activist friends (Tessa Thompson and Steven Yuen), who believe the corporation he works for is up to some shady business. To say that this movie is insane would be an understatement, but Riley has some profound things to say about the relationship between African Americans and capitalism, and how the corporate machine both objectifies and abuses black bodies. The film’s slow descent into sci-fi insanity feels earned because Cassius is such an every-man—he is both ambitious and a bit naive, manipulated by people who pretend to have his best interests at heart. Sorry to Bother You is definitely an acquired taste, but it’s unlike anything else out there, and, much like Get Out, shows that there is no shortage of up-and-coming (and sorely needed) black voices in contemporary cinema.

    Green Book is the most stuffy and traditional film of the group, but it’s so damn charming it eventually wins you over with its goofy heart. The friendship between Mahershala Ali’s sensitive Dr. Shirley and Viggo Mortensen’s braggadocious Tony is undeniably affecting, especially when we’re in the hands of such terrific actors. Despite its Oscar-bait trappings, the film is far from predictable, and it’s a surprisingly funny and enjoyable ride. Perhaps that’s partially due to director Peter Farrelly (of Farrely brothers fame), who has seemingly left his Dumb & Dumber days behind, and shows he is an accomplished and visionary filmmaker in his own right. This is a film that might have you rolling your eyes in the beginning, but by the end you’re wiping away tears. When examining America’s racial past, we could use more light and gentle touches like the ones found here. Green Book is a powerful testament to putting yourself in someone’s shoes in order to enact a change of heart.

    5. THE INCREDIBLES 2/ISLE OF DOGS/SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDERVERSE

    This was a particularly great year for animated movies, and these three are sterling examples of why it was so good. I loved them all so much, I couldn’t pick a winner.

    The Incredibles 2 is a pitch-perfect sequel to the beloved original. It took 14 years, but the wait was worth it. Brad Bird’s whip-smart and eye-popping sequel is another powerful testament to the power of family. Bird is one of the best dialogue writers in the business, and much of this film’s joy comes simply from hearing his words come out of these colorful characters’ mouths. The film also deals more with family dynamics than the original, tackling topics such as mid-life crisis and the feeling of abandonment. Thankfully, we also get a slew of new superheroes (and more Frozone!) to liven up the action, although the villain can’t hold a candle to Syndrome. This is another Pixar delight, great for kids but perhaps even more fun and profound for adults.

    Speaking of films kids and adults alike can enjoy, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse is an endlessly clever and original take on the famous character. I didn’t think I wanted to see another Spider-Man movie, but Sony animation has thankfully proved me very wrong. In fact, this is the best Spidey flick to date, with memorable characters, an engaging story and some of the best animation ever put to screen. No film has even looked more like a moving comic book than this one, and it’s honestly pretty jaw-dropping to witness. This is definitely the most fun I had at the movies this year, and I can’t wait to see what the Spiderverse kicks up next.

    If you prefer your stunning animation of the more hand-crafted variety, look no further than Wes Anderson’s delightful Isle of Dogs. There’s a particular pleasure to watching the painstaking craftsmanship of stop-motion animation, and this film is clearly a labor of love. Everything is hand-made, from the painted neo-Tokyo backdrops to the smoke made from cotton and hypnotizing fur on the canine cast. Beyond the visuals, it’s just a sweet and engaging story, with a great cast of veteran voice actors to round out the package. Isle of Dogs may seem like a typical boy-and-his-dog story, but in the hands of a visionary like Anderson it is a work of true genius.

    4. LEAVE NO TRACE

    Leave No Trace, like many of this year’s best films, is about the inner lives of its characters more than it is their outer struggle. When that outer struggle is homelessness, such profound introspection is quite a feat.

    The always terrific Ben Foster plays Will, a war veteran suffering from PTSD and a variety of other…issues. One of those issues is not his relationship with his daughter Tom (a breakout Thomasin McKenzie), which is palpable and profound. But, Will can’t exactly live in a traditional suburb with four walls. In fact, he’s convinced the best life he can provide for his daughter is out in the open wilderness. But there are other forces, both outer and inner, determined to prevent that from happening.

    This gorgeous film is Debra Granik’s first since 2010’s Winter’s Bone, but the wait was well worth it. Granik takes her naturalistic style from a backwoods thriller to a subtle tale of love, friendship and the power of community. There’s so much in this film to appreciate: Michael McDonough’s arresting cinematography, the natural performances and the powerful themes. But what really reaches the gut is the relationship at the center—one that helps us all to think about someone we might have to love enough to let go. It’s a story that absolutely celebrates the goodness of humanity, even as it recognizes that there is brokenness amidst the beauty. This is a bittersweet movie that nonetheless ends up feeling like a big, warm hug. It might just restore your faith in humanity.

    3. FIRST REFORMED

    Paul Schrader wrote Taxi Driver, which is my all-time favorite film. Schrader’s own directing career has been full of ups and downs (especially in recent years), but few would argue that First Reformed doesn’t represent one of his most profound and stirring works, anchored by the best performance of Ethan Hawke’s formidable career.

    The film, in many ways, feels like a modern-day remake of Taxi Driver, with much more overt religious parallels. Schrader’s “God’s lonely man” is the Revered Toller this time (Hawke), a dedicated priest in charge of a dwindling Episcopal congregation. Most of his duties these days consist of giving tours of the historic church to visitors rather than doing anything that might be truly called the Lord’s work.

    Like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, Toller is well-intentioned but a bit aimless, feeling like his life lacks purpose despite his deep-seated faith that God has called him to this work. He turns to drinking. He turns away those who reach out to help. One day, he finds purpose and meaning, however, when he encounters parishioner Mary (Amanda Seyfried), who is concerned about her husband Michael and his increasingly nihilistic views on raising a child in a world ravaged by climate change. Though initially repulsed by the man, Toller soon begins to see him as a sort of kindred spirit, and like Bickle turns to an act of violence to save those he loves and pay penance for his sins.

    When it comes to modern films about religious faith, First Reformed ranks with Calvary and Silence as one of the finest. It’s a deeply personal work by one of our most spiritual filmmakers at the top of his game. Its dark themes and refusal to provide easy answers means it’s not for anyone looking for easy believism. But, for people of faith or of none in particular looking for a gripping moral drama, few films so potently echo the Prophet Jeremiah’s words: “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?”

    2. EIGHTH GRADE

    Writer-director Bo Burnham’s directorial debut is nothing short of a revelation. Few modern films have so perfectly captured the confounding mixture of joy, fear, anxiety, isolation and hormones of modern adolescents. This is the kind of film that’s instantly relatable: anyone can remember a time when they were like Kayla (an arresting Elsie Fisher); ambitious and kind but eager to please and prone to peer pressure. Kayla’s internal life is fascinating as she struggles with body shaming, cliques, awkward pool parties and school dances and her lifestyle blog, which feels more like an obligation than a passion.

    Kayla, like nearly all modern youth, also struggles with technology and the way social media and phone addiction feeds into the lies young people are told about themselves. You have to be pretty, you have to be popular, you have to have sex and go to wild parties and be a rebel. Kayla is both resistant to and drawn towards this kind of exhausting lifestyle, and she must choose which things she will believe about herself and what she will filter out.

    This is an uncomfortable and awkward film, for sure, but it’s also sweet, hilarious and completely relatable (the scene with Kayla and the high school boy in the car is the most intense scene in any film released this year). It also has so much wisdom to speak to young girls especially about where worth and identity really come from. This is all conveyed with brilliant cinematography that makes us feel like a part of Kayla’s life, along with sensitive and soulful performances all around (Josh Hamilton as Kayla’s father is particularly great).

    Eighth Grade feels like a miracle, a debut so self-assured and confident it deserves mention alongside the great coming-of-age classics. What a wonderful work of art this is.

    1. WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?

    No film this year moved me more, and none had more value. Morgan Neville’s intimate and unbearably emotional examination of the life of Fred Rogers and the impact of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood is one of the finest documentaries ever put to screen.

    There is so much in this film that is necessary. To see an exemplar of a truly kind and giving soul in our modern age of darkness is something that should give us all a measure of hope. To see that a true man doesn’t have to fit traditional ideas about what a “man” should be, especially in an era of heightened sensitivity to toxic masculinity, is something that speaks deeply to my soul. Rogers is a reminder that kindness is, indeed, a revolution, as he demonstrated when he came back on the air after retirement to comfort a grieving nation reeling from the 9/11 terrorist attacks. No average man is asked to tackle such a herculean task, but like everything Fred did, he accomplished it with grace, sensitivity and a seemingly inhuman amount of humility.

    The film is also just an exquisitely crafted work of art, once again proving why Neville is one of the finest documentary filmmakers working today. His deft handling of the material is something to behold; refraining from hagiography and ensuring many different perspectives and personalities are represented. It’s no hyperbole to say that there really wasn’t anyone who had anything bad to say about Fred. He was just that special of a person, and this is that special of a documentary. It made me cry and laugh in equal measure, and has left me reeling ever since. Any film that encourages us to be better humans, and to do so without manipulation, is one for the history books.

    The rest: As I said before, 2018 was a truly extraordinary year for film. There are so many movies that I regret I couldn’t include on this list. Some of my favorites, in no particular order, are: A Quiet Place, Paddington 2, Lean on Pete, Avengers: Infinity War, The Favourite, A Star is Born, Ralph Breaks the Internet, First Man, Annihilation, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Tully, Crazy Rich Asians and Ready Player One, to name a few.

    Blind spots: Shoplilfters, Minding the Gap, They Shall Not Grow Old, Burning, The Tale, Cold War, The Death of Stalin, Sweet Country, Can You Ever Forgive Me?, Hereditary, If Beale Street Could Talk, You Were Never Really Here, Widows, Free Solo, The Hate U Give, Mandy, Three Identical Stranger, Revenge, The Old Man and the Gun, The Sisters Brothers, At Eternity’s Gate, The Other Side of the Wind, The Wife, A Private War, Blaze, Thoroughbreds, Journey’s End, Searching and Boy Erased, among others.

    Isle of Dogs review

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    It’s no secret that I and many others have decried the decline of traditional hand-drawn 2D animation.  Although 3D computer animation is often visually stunning and technically accomplished, it’s hard to replicate that endearing hand-crafted feel. But, while hand-drawn animation is now more often the purview of indie and foreign films, alternative animation styles have been experiencing a much-welcome renaissance in the western world, thanks to the painstaking process known as stop motion animation. Stop motion, and its sibling, Claymation, have resulted in modern classics like Aardman’s Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit and Laika’s Kubo and the Two Strings.

    But stop motion has also become the passion of specific American directors. Most notably, Tim Burton has adopted the painstaking process, where elaborate figurines are photographed frame by frame, for Corpse Bride and Frankenweenie. Wes Anderson, America’s indie darling, adapted a children’s book for Fantastic Mister Fox. Now, Anderson has returned to stop motion for his allegorical adventure Isle of Dogs, and the results should please both Anderson acolytes and fans of thought-provoking, visually stunning animation.

    The film takes place in a futuristic Japanese town where an outbreak of disease has threatened the dog population. To prevent the disease from spreading to humans, Mayor Kobayashi (Kunichi Nomura) banishes all dogs to a large, elaborate landfill, where all the other unwanted refuse of society goes to rest. Here, in this stark but oddly beautiful wasteland, a roving pack of dogs fights to survive. The pack is supposedly led by surly stray Chief (Bryan Cranston), but he frequently clashes with the strong-willed Rex (Edward Norton) and his posse of former house pets (voiced by Bob Balaban, Bill Murray and Jeff Goldblum).

    Their hardscrabble existence is upended when a makeshift airplane crash-lands on the island, carrying a boy named Atari (Koyu Rankin). The boy has stolen the plane and traveled to the island in search of his lost dog, Spots, but he is soon followed by the high-tech hounds of the Kobayashi empire. You see, Atari is Mayor Kobayashi’s nephew/Ward, and the suspiciously cat-loving mayor can’t have Atari wandering about spoiling his plans. Another fly in the mayor’s ointment: American foreign exchange student Tracy (Greta Gerwig), an intrepid news reporter with an unshakable hunch that there is a deeper conspiracy going on. Is all of pet kind really at stake? If so, Chief, Rex and the gang may have bitten off more than they can chew.

    Isle of Dogs is a movie filled with risky decisions, even for a filmmaker as in love with risk as Anderson. The first risk is making a good chunk of the human dialogue in Japanese, while giving the dogs English voices. What at first seems a strange disconnect soon turns into a bold and frequently entertaining creative risk. I love all the tactics Anderson comes up with to interpret for the audience: sometimes it’s on-screen text, sometimes it’s an on-screen interpreter (yes, that is Frances McDormand as Kobayashi’s official interpreter), sometimes it’s nothing at all (we never, for example, get subtitles for Atari’s frequent dialogue, and even the dogs are confused, since none of them speak Japanese). Anderson and the actors do a terrific job of mining the lack of communication for big laughs, and also leave room for a potent statement about modern communication and the ways in which we talk past one another.

    The gorgeous animation and memorable characters of Isle of Dogs should make this colorful confection irresistible to just about anyone.

    Similar to the dialogue, the visuals of the film also cobbled together in a way that somehow still feels impeccably crafted and deliberate. There’s just something so endearing and heartfelt about a film entirely crafted by hand, and it’s a joy as a viewer to recognize the extreme attention to the detail the filmmakers bring to the project. Is that cloud made of cotton? Is that parachute made of tinfoil? How many days of painstaking work did it take to film that very brief sumo wrestling scene? Or that miniscule cherry blossom wafting onto a dog’s cheek? Make no mistake: Isle of Dogs is a true game-changer from a visual perspective. It’s at the same level as Kubo and the Two Strings in terms of pushing stop motion animation forward, and like Kubo its filled with vibrant colors and details inspired by Japanese culture and myth. But, while Kubo was designed to look more like paper craft, this film feels more like a 3D felt board played upon by the most wild imagination in all of film-making. There are even sequences that transition to vibrant, traditional hand-drawn animation, showing that Anderson and company are aware of and grateful for the films of the past that inspired them.

    One of the main reasons I’ve been so ambivalent to Wes Anderson as a filmmaker in the past is that his characters can often feel more like caricatures than flesh-and-blood creations. It has nothing to do with style: Anderson creates fantasies and fables, and “realism” is not in his cinematic language. Rather, I feel as though his characters are often reduced to catchphrases and quirks, and the more odd chaps he adds to his elaborate dollhouses, the less they make an impact. While I enjoyed Fantastic Mr. Fox, it still mostly felt like a traditional Anderson movie with a different coat of paint.

    Thankfully, Isle of Dogs sidesteps many of those concerns by giving us richly drawn characters and a timeless fable about the bond between a boy and his pet. I love the film’s use of flashback scenes to flesh out its characters and, while not all of them get this treatment, the story’s most important players do. This context gives the film an emotional resonance that I feel Anderson’s work often lacks, as do the subtle-but-effective themes of death, racism, prejudice and government corruption.

    Isle of Dogs is, in many ways, a movie for adults. It’s certainly sad and disturbing enough to turn away little kids. But, for older kids and teens especially, I think there is an irresistible undercurrent of melancholy behind all the colorful visuals and adorable dogs (seriously, they’re cute) that many may find irresistible. And, along the way, they might get a valuable lesson on the importance of treating “the other” with dignity and respect (and, while we’re at it, the importance of a free and independent press in holding politicians accountable). Come to think of it, these are lessons many of us adults need to learn as well.

    Wes Anderson is no revolutionary when it comes to politics, and unlike recent animated efforts like Zootopia, Isle of Dogs isn’t at all didactic or heavy handed in its messaging. It’s simply a sweet, creative story, told with impeccable craftsmanship by a filmmaker at his creative peak. This is one of the more memorable animated films of recent years, and certainly one of Anderson’s best. The eccentric and beloved auteur may have finally (literally) crafted a film that anyone can enjoy.

    Ready Player One review

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    Few people have more of a reason to be nostalgic for the 1980s and 90s than Steven Spielberg. The veteran filmmaker filled those decades to the brim with his most crowdpleasing hits (Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T., Jurassic Park) as well as his most critically acclaimed and well-respected work (Saving Private Ryan, Schindler’s List).

    It seems like a match made in heaven, then, for Spielberg to bring an adaptation of Earnest Cline’s nostalgia-fueled novel Ready Player One to the big screen. And, for the most part, that assumption proves correct. Like the book itself, Spielberg’s latest sci-fi extravaganza is equal parts breathtaking, cheesy, self-indulgent and deeply geeky. Most importantly, however, it’s a ton of fun.

    The fairly boilerplate story is set in a futuristic, dilapidated version of Columbus, Ohio, the hometown of the legendary gamemaker James Halliday (Mark Rylance), where acolytes have flocked to gain some wisdom from the man who redefined their existence through his creation called The Oasis. Think of it as a virtual reality version of an MMO, with people plugging in to tune out of their semi-apocalyptic existence. In The Oasis, you can be whoever you want to be, go wherever you want to go and do whatever you want to do.

    Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan) is one of those acolytes, and like many others he is hoping to gain access to Halliday’s ultimate easter egg. Upon his passing, Halliday left announcement claiming that he hid three keys across The Oasis. Finding the keys leads to a door, which leads to a golden egg, which represents complete control over The Oasis and access to Halliday’s vast riches. In order to improve their real-life existence, thousands of people must obsessively pore over pop culture history and spend most of their days inside The Oasis in order to crack the code and overtake the most powerful company on earth.

    Wade enlists the help of a team of misfits including his best friend Aech (Lena Waithe) and a mysterious resistance fighter known in the virtual world as Art3mis (Olivia Cooke). After Wade, whose digital handle is Parzival, finds the first key, he becomes a celebrity, drawing the attention of adoring fans but also the murderous ire of Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn). Sorrento leads a powerful corporation hell-bent on solving Halliday’s puzzle and using the Oasis to sell advertising, but their ownership of the company could have nefarious real-world implications as well.

    Ready Player One has gotten a lot of attention in recent weeks, not all of it positive. The backlash to the book has been severe, with many calling it glorified nostalgia bait, a series of references in search of a story. The same complaint could theoretically be leveled at the film version. Adapted by Cline himself along with Zak Penn, the script spends a great deal of time calling out pop culture references both visual and verbal. But, like the book, I think the film does a good job of tying said references into the main thread of the story. After all, to win Halliday’s challenge our heroes must obsessively geek out over small, minute details of pop culture past. I for one think it’s rather brilliant to essentially ask the audience to do the same thing along with the characters. Are there references for the sake of references? Sure, but they fit well into a virtual world where everything is a walking advertisement. I understand folks who despise the idea of a movie concocting a reason to show us a bunch of other stuff, but how many of these critics have stepped foot inside a comic convention, where every booth is pandering to our fondness for things we already like in order to sell us a product?

    Ready Player One is a visually stunning and fun tribute to pop culture past.

    That’s not to say that the film is flawlessly written. It’s definitely too long, and Spielberg struggles to make the real-world action match the intensity and thrills of the virtual set-pieces. Also lost in adaptation are some of Cline’s richly drawn characters. Parzival and Art3mis’ relationship is given enough depth, as is Art3mis’ complex reasons for desiring the egg. But Aech is less fleshed out than the character deserves, acting more as a walking set of references and phobias than an actual person. And Sorrento is a typical walking suit, obsessed with money and prestige and little else.

    I love seeing some of my favorite young actors working on such a massive project, but my favorite performance and character in the film is Rylance as Halliday. He brings a subtlety and a sadness to a story that doesn’t have enough of either. On the other side of the coin, I absolutely loved T.J. Miller’s I-R0k, a powerful shaman inside the Oasis who provides the film’s best comic relief. His one-liners are golden, and I’d put money down for a spin-off film starring him (especially since we don’t ever get to see his real-world identity here).

    One advantage the film adaptation has over the book is its visual design, and this is truly the movie’s selling point. This is a technological stunner, perhaps the biggest leap forward visually since Avatar or Rise of the Planet of the Apes. It’s often difficult for movies to convey the full visual weight of a universe where choice is at the center, but this is an easy exception. Every frame is bursting with color, every shot filled with something to dazzle the eye (were those Battletoads charging into battle alongside the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?). So many of the references are fun precisely because you can’t catch them all. Half-second flashes of favorite characters fit nicely alongside the more blatant references, keeping us on our toes as we scan the screens for glimpses of our favorite character.

    Ready Player One is essentially half-animated, and thankfully Spielberg handily avoids the uncanny valley, with fun character designs inside The Oasis and expressive facial animations that rarely look creepy or unnatural (not anymore than intended, at least). However, it’s the action set pieces that truly knock this one out of the park. Check out the twisting car race that leads to the first key, featuring shifting courses, King Kong and a giant T-Rex. Or my favorite scene, a gripping bravura set piece set inside Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining. The epic final battle feels less engrossing, but perhaps that’s because, aside from the sheer variety of characters that fill the screen, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.

    Ready Player One is pretty much exactly what most people will expect going in. It’s ambitious, silly, over-the-top and a total blast. Those who scoff at the film’s very premise are not going to be swayed. Those anticipating a good time will certainly find it here. But, at its core, the film has a genuinely good heart and a sprinkling of that inexplicable Spielberg magic. Think of it as a really long roller coaster ride: fun while it lasts, not exactly life changing, but something I can’t wait to ride again. This is one easter egg worth cracking.

    Black Panther review

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    There was a time in not-so-distant film history when making a comic-based superhero movie would have been a major gamble. Think about movies like Tim Burton’s Batman, Dick Tracy or Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man series. But, in the span of little more than a decade, a superhero movie seems like one of the surest bets in Hollywood. Even seemingly unmarketable properties like Guardians of the Galaxy or Doctor Strange have seen incredible critical and commercial success.

    The ubiquity of the superhero sub-genre is an obvious win for Hollywood studios, but a potential hazard for movie fans. After all, what quicker way is there to spoil innovation and risk then the promise that sticking to the status quo will result in mountains of money? Marvel Studios, the Disney-owned harbinger of the modern comic book film era, has found itself at this crossroads in recent years, cranking out so many sequels and mash ups that the movies start to blur together. Their projects can sometimes feel as though they were directed by committee, rather than guided by any distinct artistic vision.

    Then, something, well, marvelous happened. The juggernaut studio started to give its franchises to successful independent filmmakers, the kinds of unique voices who in most circumstances probably wouldn’t step anywhere near a superhero flick. This risk has paid off handsomely, resulting in a renaissance of sorts within the Marvel brand. Think of the hallucinatory insanity of Scott Derrickson’s Doctor Strange, or Taika Waititi’s comedically subversive Thor: Ragnarok. An easy addition to that list: Black Panther, Ryan Coogler’s riotous and engrossing new movie, one that takes the Marvel brand and pushes it to new heights, resulting in one of the finest comic book flicks ever made.

    Part of what makes Black Panther stand out is the fact that it doesn’t really feel like a Marvel movie at all. Sure, there are some returning characters and references to the events of Captain America: Civil War, but they are in service to a story that reaches far deeper than most comic-based fare. This is one of the only Marvel flicks that feels like it takes place in the real world.

    We catch up with the panther, aka T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) as he prepares to take the throne after the death of his father, T’Chaka in Civil War. He returns to the African kingdom of Wakanda, hidden from the outside world for centuries and filled with futuristic technology gifted to the people when a meteor containing the indestructible metal vibranium crashed to earth centuries earlier. The kingdom of Wakanda ranks with Asgard, the home of Thor, as the most fully realized and visually stunning locales in the MCU. Its deep hues of blue and purple contain a fascinating mix of high tech and African tribalism, where high-speed bullet trains and remote-controlled spaceships can exist alongside African tribal divisions, complete with colorful garb and other identifiers such as piercings, lip discs and dreadlocks.

    T’Challa returns to this complex ecosystem to perform in the ceremony where he will be crowned king of Wakanda. He is joined by his grieving but proud mother (Angela Bassett), his tech wizard sister Shuri (Letitia Wright), potential love interest Nakia (Lupita Nyong’o) and a royal entourage that also doubles as a who’s-who of great black actors (Danai Gurira, Daniel Kaluuya, Forest Whitaker and Florence Kasumba, to name a few).

    But T’Challa’s new rule is soon thrown into chaos, as the Wakandans race to stop some of their vibranium from falling into the hands of mercenary Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis, in full un-CG’d glory) and a mysterious outsider who goes by the name Eric Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan), who has his own reasons for wanting Wakandan technology to be unleashed upon the world. Such sentiment stirs up conflict among the Wakandans; with their people being oppressed around the globe, might it not be wise to share this wonderous technology with others of African descent and take up arms against anyone who would oppress or demean their people?

    Black Panther transcends its genre trappings thanks to excellent acting and a profoundly social conscience.

    The conflicts at the center of Black Panther are incredibly compelling, and they’re conflicts that director Coogler has taken an interest exploring throughout his body of work (his first two films were Fruitvale Station and Rocky franchise re-starter Creed). Tradition versus progress. Isolationism versus globalism. Peaceful, political protest versus violent revolt. The films touch deeply on subject matter that matters more to black communities than ever, and the result could not be timelier. It’s amazing that a superhero film with a predominately black cast would seem so revolutionary in 2018, but then again it we didn’t get a Wonder Woman movie until last year.

    But the film is more than just a showcase for great black actors; it’s also a film that is boldly, unapologetically African. From the vibrant costume and makeup design to the pulsating tribal score and Rachel Morrison’s gorgeous cinematography, this is the very rare blockbuster that aesthetically embraces the black experience, and that makes it completely refreshing in a film universe that has been sadly lacking in diversity.

    Thankfully, the film sails past simple eye candy. Like Marvel’s terrific Netflix series Luke Cage, it tackles head-on modern issues of black identity such as racial injustice and absentee fathers. I don’t know that a superhero flick has felt this necessary since The Dark Knight encapsulated America’s post-9/11 anxieties, and that potent realism helps the film to feel thrillingly current and alive.

    Speaking of lively, it’s certainly worth mentioning that Black Panther features some of the finest acting seen in the sub-genre. You can tell the actors knew they were making more than a fun popcorn flick: they were making something important, and it shows. I love Danai Gurira’s work on The Walking Dead, but her ferocious warrior Okoye is a marvelous creation on a whole different level. Particular praise should also go to Letitia Wright, whose Shuri should an inspiration to black women everywhere. Here’s a gorgeous young woman who is also a super-genius, leagues ahead of, say, Tony Stark; the implication that the Wakandans are the holders of ultimate knowledge and power is a brilliant and liberating reversal of reality, when black people are often the ones in positions of vulnerability.

    But the highest praise must go to the main leads. Boseman’s Panther was a highlight of Civil War, and here he’s given the depth he deserves. Boseman is an amazing actor who always seems to give his all to his work, and that shows here. T’Challa is a fascinatingly complex hero, burdened with a responsibility he doesn’t quite know how to bear, and often brought to his knees by his perceived failures. The brilliant Michael B. Jordan gives us the best villain in the MCU. Coogler and co-writer Joe Robert Cole easily side-step Marvel’s villain problem by making Killmonger equal parts ferocious and vulnerable. His motivations are complex but understandable, and he’s the victim of an egregious past wrong that ignites the central conflict and gains the character a certain amount of sympathy. There were times when I felt I sided more with Killmonger’s perspective than T’Challa’s, and that’s a remarkable step in the right direction, especially when you have an actor as good as Jordan in front of the camera.

    If there’s a complaint to level at the film, it’s a minor one, and one of preference. It’s easy to see that Coogler and company put less priority the traditional superhero antics and action scenes than they did the story, characters and social parallels. In my mind, that’s an easily acceptable trade, especially because any shmuck can blow stuff up. And yet, apart from an awesome car chase sequence, the film lacks the gorgeously choreographed action of Thor: Ragnarok or the epic scale of the Captain America series. For a film with this much on its mind and heart, I can accept a downgrade when it comes to the action, but Marvel fans looking for extremely memorable fight sequences might be a tad disappointed.

    Despite being based upon a decades-old property, Black Panther is very much a movie of the moment. In all the ways that count, it’s the finest example of its sub-genre since The Dark Knight. It’s vibrant, searing, and just plain fun. But even its most superfluous moments are cut with the undercurrent of profound social commentary that binds the film together. Coogler and company have crafted something special and, in some ways, groundbreaking here. There’s a new king in town, and I say “hail, hail!”

    The top 10 films of 2017

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    In many ways, the past year was a tough one for Hollywood. Audiences felt sequel fatigue, as many would-be blockbusters tanked at the box office. And, who could forget the sexual harassment and abuse scandal that roared through the entertainment industry, taking down giants such as Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey (and inspiring the genuinely stirring “time’s up” movement across the industry).

    And yet, look past the ugliness and disappointment and you’ll come to an irrefutable fact: 2017 was a fantastic year for quality films, ones that moved us, entertained us and pushed the art form forward in more ways than one. I, for one, prefer to focus on all the good things movies brought us over the year.

    If there’s a theme to this year’s best films, it’s marginalization. Specifically, the way marginalized individuals and groups bond and find comfort and solace in one another when the world has left them behind. In a year so immensely divisive along so many different lines, the cinema was once again a place we could go to remind ourselves that we as a species have more in common with one another, then we think; all those things that touch the core of who we are: our dreams, our visions, our compassion and our ability to endure through the harshest of life’s struggles. And what a beautiful struggle it is. Without further ado, here are my favorite films released in 2017.

    10. WONDER WOMAN/LOGAN

    Finally! I’m a huge fan of comic based movies, and I’ve been itching to include one in my list for a few years now. This year, there were so many good ones I had to pick two. Thor: Ragnarok, Spider-Man: Homecoming and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2? All aces. But the best superhero movies are ones that went to some surprising places, pushing the sub-genre to new heights. Wonder Woman offered us a long-awaited great DC flick by finally giving one of the world’s best heroes her cinematic due. Part of what makes the movie great is its old-fashioned superb craftmanship. This is sold storytelling all around, from warrior Diana’s engaging origins to her incredibly compelling internal conflict as a god among mortals. Are humans, often so cruel to one another and riddled with sin, even worth saving? It’s a compelling conundrum, and one that’s given full weight. Such grand themes are bolstered by some truly jaw-dropping action sequences, along with fine supporting performances and a rich embodiment of the legendary hero courtesy of Gal Gadot. After decades of being relegated to supporting roles, young girls and women now have a leading big-screen hero that looks like them. That alone is enough for Wonder Woman to earn this spot; the fact that it’s the best superhero flick in years is the jewel in the crown. Long live the queen!

    Logan, on the other hand, is anything but a traditional superhero flick. It’s right there in the title: Logan is no longer Wolverine, but a man who has seen too many lifetimes, broken and caring for an ailing Professor Xavier. This is ultimately a tale of redemption for the legendary hero, played for the supposed last time by Hugh Jackman, who embodies Logan with his trademark mix of deep existential sadness and feral rage. Tragic events lead Logan and Xavier on a road trip of sorts with a mysterious young mutant (a revelatory Dafne Keen), and immaculately staged (and incredibly bloody) chaos follows. Logan takes more than a few risks: it’s dark, violent and mostly devoid of hope. And yet, it’s a powerful tale of legacy and what it means to live a life worthy of being remembered for. Director James Mangold did an incredible job of framing Logan’s journey through the lens of the classic western Shane—the lonely gunslinger who blows into town, saves the day and disappears, never to be seen again. Connecting to such classic pedigree is a risky move in a film full of them, but Logan earns it every step of the way. And yet, it’s the performances that seal the deal here. Watch this film and tell me if Jackman or Patrick Stewart have ever been better. Certainly not in these roles, but these might be career best performances from both. Rarely are comic book flicks made with this much passion, energy and sheer ballsy storytelling.

    9. BABY DRIVER

    Like a bat out of hell, Edgar Wright’s funny, thrilling, completely charming and engrossing action film comes roaring down the tracks, offering some of the finest car chases ever put to film. Wright is an impeccably detailed craftsman, and every frame here oozes his trademark attention to detail and passion: specifically, his passion for music. Baby Driver has one of the most impressive soundtracks of all time, even more so because the music is more than background noise: it’s a central character in the film. Scenes are edited to work in tandem with the music, creating something that could be called as much a musical as it could a heist flick. And, giving getaway driver Baby (Ansel Elgort) a hearing condition that draws him even closer to music, and you have a perfect fusion of sound and image. Thankfully, the story’s good too, as is the acting from a stellar cast (Jamie Foxx, Jon Bernthal, Kevin Spacey, Jon Hamm and Lily James, to name a few). This is a fun, crazy ride from one of cinema’s most talented and distinct voices. It should not be missed.

    8. BLADE RUNNER 2049/STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI/WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES 

    Man, this was a bangin’ year for science fiction. So great, in fact, that I had to call a three-way tie. Each of these films took established franchises we thought had seen their best days and injected new life into them, showing that the right mix of filmmaker and property can work wonders. Arrival director Denis Villeneuve has his second sci-fi classic for the second year in a row, as the gorgeous Blade Runner: 2049 more than lived up to its stellar pedigree, giving us a profound meditation on what it means to be human. This is one of the most stirring and visually stunning films I’ve seen on a big screen. Also, give Roger Deakins a damn Oscar already; his cinematography is so great here I feel like it should hardly be viewed with mortal eyes.

    Rian Johnson did a similarly bang-up job with Star Wars: The Last Jedi, giving us a complex look at legacy and the temptations that power brings. This movie brings together the most profound themes of the storied franchise while never skipping on the crackling action and hearty humor that has always defined Star Wars. More importantly, Johnson took some huge creative risks by providing controversial answers to questions that have long plagued Star Wars fandom. Naturally, he received more than a little backlash, from many of the same folks who decried The Force Awakens for not taking enough risks. For those fans who aren’t impossible to please, this is the best film in the series since the original trilogy. While that’s not a particularly high hurdle to jump, The Last Jedi is more than that. Take a look at Mark Hamill’s Luke Skywalker. Here’s a man once filled with hope, broken by the evil he has seen and looking for a reason to care again. It’s a complex portrait, and Hamill’s best performance he’s ever given. Seeing Rey’s and Kylo’s journeys take some surprising turns is equally thrilling, as are the mind-blowing and beautifully shot action scenes, headlined by a lightsaber fight that will easily go down as a franchise great. The Last Jedi is tragic, thrilling, emotional, and completely engrossing for the majority of its lengthy 150-minute run time. The force is indeed strong with this one.

    Another filmmaker who’s done an extraordinary job steering the ship of a newly revived franchise is Matt Reeves, who saved the best of this modern Apes trilogy for last. This is one of the most satisfying trilogies in sci-fi history, and War for the Planet of the Apes is a stirring conclusion. Anchored by a soulful performance from Andy Serkis as ape leader Caesar, this is big-hearted blockbuster filmmaking, tackling themes like racism, poverty and war with an extremely deft hand. If that’s not the kind of finesse you’d expect from a series about talking monkeys, then you don’t know this franchise very well. Add in a great supporting cast of creatures (Steve Zahn’s “bad ape” is too damn adorable for words), groundbreaking visual effects and a sensational baddie (Woody Harrelson’s colonel) and you have yourself one heck of a capper to a pretty amazing trilogy. I’d be more than down for future films in this intriguing universe.

    7. MUDBOUND

    In a year filled with poignant studies of American race relations, Dee Rees’ sensitive, soulful drama stands out for its deeply felt characters, heartfelt emotional timbre and breathtaking visuals. Rees takes us deep inside the WWII-era south, where white and black farmers live next to each other, sharing land and socioeconomic status. This is, unsurprisingly, not always a harmonious arrangement. A standout ensemble cast breathes life into the project, including Carey Mulligan, Jason Clarke, Mary J. Blige and Jonathan Banks. But the most moving relationship is that between Jamie (Garrett Hedlund) and Ronsel (Jason Mitchell), two soldiers of different skin color who return from the war and bond over their experiences, sparking a friendship that is unlikely to thrive in such racially divisive times. Rees’ work feels like a Terrence Malick film at times, as it jumps between character perspectives to give us a complex look at the American south, a place that hardly seems like it ever existed. But, like all essential history, Mudbound reminds us that yes, indeed, people and attitudes like this were here, and not so long ago. In some ways, we haven’t come as far as we think from those dark days, and that startling and necessary realization could not come in a stronger, more soulful package.

    6. THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI 

    What a profound, moving, surprising film this is. Writer-director Martin McDonagh took a rather abrupt turn from the likes of In Bruges and Seven Psychopaths to bring us a complex dark satire that deftly tackles such volatile topics as racism, police brutality, grief and the power of forgiveness. Frances McDormand gives a powerful, career-best performance as Mildred, a grieving mother who resorts to drastic measures to spur the police over their perceived inaction to catch her daughter’s rapist and killer. She soon butts heads with police chief Willoughby (Woody Harrelson) and overtly racist officer Dixon (Sam Rockwell, never better). Apart from its great cast and pitch-perfect script, the film soars thanks to the way it flips so many of our biases and prejudices on their heads. There are no villains here, but there are lots of broken people. Every character makes wrong decisions that hurt others, but they are also all sympathetic. The film’s ending is perhaps the best of any film released this year; it’s unexpected, and one of the most moving looks at the power of forgiveness and the limitations of revenge I’ve seen. These characters are people I enjoy spending time with, and I didn’t want the movie to end. Like a satisfying novel, there are so many more stories I’d love to see in this richly realized world.

    5. GET OUT 

    Of all the films in 2017 that explicitly addressed modern race relations in America, none was more brilliantly conceived or timely than Jordan Peele’s sensational directorial debut. Through the trappings of a horror film, Peele paints an insightful picture of what the black experience might look like if taken to its extreme. Centered around Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) as he travels with his white girlfriend Rose (Allison Williams) to meet her posh liberal parents at their lavish estate, Get Out is memorable not only because it’s a sterling example of its genre, but because Peele understands so acutely that racism is not always KKK rallies and prejudiced hiring practices. Often, it’s the little things that build to something larger, the casual asides, the small preconceived notions and misconceptions. The film’s climax is genuinely disturbing, and watching it again is a joyous opportunity to recognize how almost every conversation, every glance or casual chuckle points to the dark implications of its final moments. This is a flat-out great movie, the kind so adept at entertaining its audience they’re apt to overlook the fact that it’s one of the cleverest and most sneakily subtle morality tales in modern cinema. I can’t wait to see what Peele does next, but I’m certainly strapped in for the ride.

    4. LADY BIRD 

    Greta Gerwig is another actor that made the jump to directing in 2017, and her wonderful, funny, relatable comedy Lady Bird puts many more seasoned filmmakers to shame. A semi-autobiographical tale about a smart but rebellious teen (an amazing Saoirse Ronan) growing up in Catholic school in early 2000’s Sacramento, the film is one of the most piercing, funny, tragic and insightful coming-of-age tales released this decade. You can tell Gerwig knows her subject: every moment rings true. There is not a single false note in the entire film, and I can’t imagine anyone watching the movie and not finding something they can relate to. Whether it’s Christine’s boy troubles, her college aspirations or her complicated relationship with her parents (a wonderful Tracy Letts and Laurie Metcalf), we’re treated to a complex and fully realized portrait of adolescence every step of the way. This movie makes me so extremely happy, and it will make you happy, too.

    3. THE SHAPE OF WATER

    Visionary director Guillermo del Toro has crafted, in both tone and spirit, a true follow-up to his undisputed masterpiece, Pan’s Labyrinth. It’s a marvelous love letter not only to classic cinema, but to the outcast and marginalized who stand up for each other and find love in the most peculiar places. Sally Hawkins gives probably my favorite performance of the year as Elisa, a lonely mute woman working as a janitor at a top-secret research facility in Cold War-era Baltimore. Soon, a strange creature arrives, captured in South America by government agent Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), who plans to extract secrets from the man-fish hybrid (played by Doug Jones) in hopes of using him against the Soviets. Elisa begins to sneak in to peek at the creature, and soon a friendship and eventual romance blooms between the two. She decides to break out the creature from his prison, enlisting a ragtag group of jail-breakers including her co-worker Zelda (Octavia Spencer), her gay artist neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins) and aloof lab scientist Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg).

    Its story is simple, but what makes The Shape of Water so memorable is its almost obsessive attention it pays to its visuals. Since the two main characters are incapable of speech, del Toro and cinematographer Dan Lausen tell the story through positively swoon-worthy visuals that nail both a vintage sci-fi aesthetic and a deeply romantic one. In fact, the film deftly juggles a variety of genres, including sci-fi, romance, Cold War thriller, even musical, and it never once drops the ball. But the movie is more than a beautiful oddity; it’s also a passionate cry for tolerance and compassion in a world that deeply needs more of both.

    2. DUNKIRK

    Stirring is the first word that comes to mind when I think about Christopher Nolan’s magnum opus. But that word conjures images of manufactured uplift and fuzzy history that lionizes historical heroes for maximum emotional impact. This is an especially tricky pitfall when making a war picture. But Nolan avoids every cliche this genre could throw your way. First, it’s an inspiring movie about a military failure; specifically, the retreat of Allied soldiers from the Germans on the beach of Dunkirk. Why did Nolan choose to focus on a defeat? Simply, he wasn’t concerned with what we might traditionally consider victory. In the battle of Dunkirk, the world saw humanity at its very best, as dozens of civilian vessels braved dangerous waters to rescue the troops when the military ships couldn’t get close enough.

    Nolan brilliantly constructs the film in three sections and timelines, jumping back and forth between land, air and sea. This kaleidoscopic perspective allows us to see the conflict from a variety of perspectives. There’s the young shell-shocked soldier (Fionn Whitehead), the headstrong commander (Kenneth Branagh), the hyper-focused pilot (Tom Hardy) and the fearless schooner captain (Mark Rylance). The structure is sweeping and epic, without calling attention to itself.

    Another wise choice was the decision to cast so many non-actors and character actors in key roles. The most well-known actors in the film are probably Tom Hardy (who hides under a pilot mask for most of the film and singer Harry Styles (making his acting debut here; he’s quite good). This helps create the illusion that we’re watching real lives, not actors pretending.

    More of the film’s many strokes of genius: the Oscar-worthy, puts-you-there cinematography of Hoyte van Hoytema, the revolutionary sound design and the incredible score from Hans Zimmer, whose nail-biting music becomes a character in the film, driving its intensity and action. It’s hard to believe Zimmer hasn’t won an Oscar since 1994, but he’s never deserved it more.

    Dunkirk is a relentlessly intense viewing experience, but it’s also an innovative, technically astonishing and deeply moving one. Nolan has crafted another masterpiece, and one of the best war films ever made.

    1.THE FLORIDA PROJECT 

    I’m a sucker for empathetic filmmaking, the kind that puts us in the shoes and perspectives of people who are not like us and perhaps people we will never meet. There are few filmmakers more empathetic than Sean Baker, whose underrated transgender romp Tangerine was shot entirely on an iPhone. Baker’s The Florida Project delivers on that film’s promise and then some, resulting in one of the best movies ever made about growing up in America.

    Following the struggles of a young girl (the wonderful Brooklynn Prince) and her mother (Bria Vinaite) living out of a hotel near Disneyworld, the film feels beautifully spared down and lived in. There aren’t a ton of dramatic revelations or plot twists, simply small scenes of quite desperation and sometimes joy, as young Moonee plays with her friends, viewing her squalid circumstances through the colored lens of childhood innocence. Meanwhile, her mother struggles to hold a job and deals with the consequences of increasingly bad decisions that, while well-intentioned, put her and her daughter in danger and alienate them from their friends and family.

    The only one who truly seems to be on their side is hotel manager Bobby (Willem Dafoe, giving the best supporting performance of the year). But he has a boss too, and his sympathy for the family’s situation can only stretch so far. There are no villains here, only broken people trying to live life the only way they know how. This in no way excuses their poor decisions, but it does help viewers like me, so removed from this desperate world, understand why people pushed to such limits would make them.

    The Florida Project is 2017’s finest example of compassionate cinema, the kind of film that helps us understand the stranger among us, that helps us see a foreign world that lives on our doorstep. It’s a beautiful, valuable work of art, one I loved and will treasure for years to come.

     

    Runner-ups: There were so many great films this year, I could easily have a separate list. Standouts include The Lost City of Z, The Meyerowitz Stories, It, Gerald’s Game, Thor: Ragnarok, Wind River, Captain Underpants, Spider-Man: Homecoming, The Case for Christ, The Big Sick, Logan Lucky, The Beguiled, Their Finest, Stronger, John Wick Chapter 2, First They Killed My Father

    Blind spots: Call me by Your Name, Phantom Thread, Columbus, BPM, The Post, Marjorie Prime, Coco, It Comes at Night, The Disaster Artist, I Tonya, Darkest Hour, Detroit, Mother!, Novitiate, Only the Brave, Battle of the Sexes, Wonderstruck, Nocturama, Molly’s Game, Last Flag Flying, All the Money in the World, The Greatest Showman, Marshall