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.

This Christmas season, Hollywood seems especially concerned with one primary aspect of the holiday: consumerism. Several recently released films are about money; how much American society needs it as well as how much that same consumer society destroys and corrupts good and bad alike. During a time of year obsessed with consumerism, it’s an important theme. They’re also about dreams, both those that are broken and those that are occasionally fulfilled. I checked out a few new movies receiving major critical and awards attention.

The Wolf of Wall Street

Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street is a three-hour effigy to excess. Scorsese teams up once again with Leonardo DiCaprio, who gives a fireball of a performance as Jordan Belfort, the real-life sleaze ball broker who made millions by scamming people out of money by selling them phony stocks. Along the way, he enlists the help of Donnie Azoff (Jonah Hill) and a few select others in their attempt to grow their phony company, Stratton Oakmont, into a legitimate operation.

The film’s early scenes are fascinating, as a bright-eyed Belfort with ambition and ideals is enthralled by a Wall Street veteran (a brief but brilliant Matthew McConaughey) and begins to build his phony firm from the ground up. The process behind the operation is the most interesting part of the movie.

Belfort and company’s rise to the top (and descent to the depths of debauchery) is chronicled in increasingly graphic displays of rampant sex and drug use. It’s fun for a while, and some over-the-top scenes rank among the funniest in Scorsese history (one particularly brilliant, almost vaudevillian sequence involves Belfort’s overdose on Quaalude, his drug of choice). But the movie wears out its welcome by the end. So much screen time is devoted to the film’s ribald sexual content that most attempts at lasting character development fall flat. By the time the narrative switches gears by throwing in an FBI agent (an underused Kyle Chandler) hot on the scent to bust Stratton, it’s much too late to rein in the film’s overstuffed ambition.

Then there’s Belfort, a completely horrible person from beginning to end. Are we actually supposed to be rooting for this guy? Scorsese has made a career out of depicting despicable yet fascinating characters, but Belfort takes things a bit too far. DiCaprio plays him much too charming to actively root against, either. Azoff and the supporting characters don’t fare any better; everyone is thoroughly unredeemable. Much talk has been made over whether the film is misogynistic, and I think the criticisms are justified. There are lots of naked women in this movie, and, while Belfort’s model wife, Naomi (Margot Robbie) gets ample screen time, she’s mostly just there as a sex object, too. It’s a shocking misstep from a director who has a history of very strong female characters.

Of course, some may argue that these things make sense when viewed through Belfort’s eyes, an unreliable narrator who often breaks the fourth wall to talk directly (and down) to the audience. But just because the film hews to Belfort’s real-life story doesn’t imbue it with meaning. The film’s ultimate letdown is that it doesn’t bother to make us care for these sick characters or say anything new. It’s certainly outrageous that one of the foundations of our economy could be manipulated like this, but “money corrupts people” isn’t exactly a novel concept.

Wolf is an occasionally brilliant movie, but I can’t help but think that this is Scorsese’s version of a frat boy comedy. DiCaprio is certainly deserving of high praise; he seems to be completely enraptured in his insane performance; if the man doesn’t get an Oscar for this one, I’m not sure he ever will. The movie itself is an enthralling, often hilarious portrait of a director at his most gloriously unhinged, but those looking for a bit more depth beneath the madness will very likely feel bludgeoned and numbed by Scorsese’s raucous, slick con job.

 American Hustle

David O Russell channels his own inner Scorsese in American Hustle, a brilliant caper film that begs comparison to Goodfellas, among others. It’s the kind of film Scorsese used to make, a smoldering mix of memorable characters, a twisty plot and the distinct voice of a true American original.

Loosely based on the FBI ABSCAM operation of the late ‘70s (the opening states that “some of this stuff actually happened,”) the film follows the exploits of Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale, with what is described as an “elaborate” comb over), a professional New Jersey con man who, along with his girlfriend, Sydney (a sweltering Amy Adams) is pulled into an FBI sting operation led by Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper). The goal is to implicate multiple Jersey politicians in taking bribe money under the banner of restoring the once-glorious Atlantic City.

Things are complicated both by Irving’s vindictive wife Rosalyn (a manic-depressive Jennifer Lawrence) and his friendship with naive politician Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), who DiMaso asks Irving to implicate in the sting.

Hustle pulses with the urgency surrounding a high-stakes plot that could unravel at any moment. And, between con over con and Irving’s complex love triangle, the film threatens to unravel, too. But it doesn’t. Director O’Russell is such an exhilarating director, swooping the camera in every imaginable and lending the movie a vibrant, breakneck pace. O Russell proves himself once again as a brilliant writer, too. Despite the machinations of the plot, the film is ultimately a deep character study, a look at survival and the role the characters’ duplicitous natures contributes to their working-class ennui. In particular, the relationship between Irving, Sydney and Rosalyn is handled with aplomb, and grows even more engaging as the film continues.

The acting is off-the-charts great, with Bale, Adams, Lawrence and Cooper all pulling in AAA performances. Brilliant supporting work from Louis C.K. as a bumbling FBI agent and Robert DeNiro as a mobster (what else) rounds out the powerhouse package. O Russell’s attention to period detail (particularly the costumes and that glorious hair) lend the film an authentic vibe where it could have easily felt fabricated. His use of popular period music is equally exciting (and again, quite Scorsese-an).

Hustle has its flaws, but it’s so hard not to fall in love with, because it’s a movie in the purest sense of the word. A sheer joy for the art and craft of filmmaking permeates its pores. If he wasn’t already, David O Russell is now one of the most consistently surprising and accomplished directors in the business.

 Saving Mr. Banks

Saving Mr. Banks couldn’t be any more different. British author P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson) seems entirely uninterested in money. She calls it a “dirty word,” but profits from her successful Mary Poppins books have dwindled, and she decides to humor Walt Disney (Tom Hanks), who invites her to come to California in an attempt to convince her to sign over the rights to her story to make into the now-classic film.

Mr. Banks is the kind of film I instinctively enjoy, a movie about the movies that takes no small amount of joy in the artistic process. The ideological warfare between the stuffy and picky Travers (who insists she be called Mrs. Travers) and the wide-eyed, uncouth Disney (who insists he be called “Walt”) is engaging, but the real draw comes from the fact that these two impossible dreamers seem almost wholly unconcerned with money, but rather with seeing their dreams come to life. Of course, Walt Disney was a money machine, but its corrupting influence is, refreshingly, wholly absent here.

The movie tells Travers’ story by flashing back and forth from her traumatic childhood experience with her alcoholic father to her battles with Walt and company. The chronologically disjointed formula occasionally feels a bit manipulative, and many of the historical connections feel more concerned with cinematic indulgence than historical accuracy. But this is a movie of grand emotions, and it wears its heart very much on its sleeve.

Director John Lee Hancock gets great performances out of side characters such as the Poppins songwriting Sherman brothers (Jason Schwartzman and BJ Novak) and Travers’ chauffer (a typically pitch-perfect Paul Giamatti). Thompson is brilliant as Travers, giving just the right amount of sugar to a rather bitter role. She’s never so nasty that she becomes unbelievable. While Hanks doesn’t exactly look the part, he brings a warmth and sincerity to Walt Disney that is just too infectious to ignore.

The film is a big dollop of Disney sugar, but Travers’ backstory and her stubbornness offers just the right amount of dramatic heft to balance things out. It’s a completely engaging, refreshingly cynicism-free look at dreamers who may, for once, actually be able to make their dreams reality.

The original Hunger Games film revealed both the triumphs and pitfalls of adapting a wildly popular book. While it was ultimately considered a success, its rushed pace, uneven acting and shaky cinematography left many cold. Catching Fire, the hotly anticipated sequel, feels like the movie the original film should have been. Thanks to a new, dedicated director in Francis Lawrence along with better source material, the film is a triumph both as an adaptation and a mass-produced entertainment that should thrill diehard fans and series newbies alike.

The story picks up with Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) preparing for their victory after “winning” the 74^th Hunger Games, a brutal blood sport started by the Capitol of Panem to keep the twelve districts from instigating a revolution against the oppressive regime. The Capitol is thrilled by Katniss’ and Peeta’s victory, as well as their seemingly budding romance, but all is not well. President Snow (Donald Sutherland) sees their dual victory as an act of defiance, and so did many of the districts, who begin staging a series of small uprisings. Snow makes it his mission to stamp out Katniss, the symbol of the revolution, for good by forcing previous victors back into the arena for another round of the Hunger Games.

One of the great pleasures of this film is seeing returning actors embody these characters. While Lawrence’s Katniss came off as somewhat robotic before, here we get to experience her full range of emotions as well as the toll the games have taken on her psyche and relationships. Fresh off her Oscar win for Silver Linings Playbook, Lawrence has grown leaps and bounds as an actress, and it shows. Hutcherson and Liam Hemsworth as Katniss’ competing love interest, Gale, are also given much more to work with here. Elizabeth Banks’ garish, Lady Gaga-esque Effie is a scene-stealer once again.

There are tons of new faces as well. Phillip Seymour Hoffman as the new head game maker Plutarch Heavensbee is a particularly inspired choice of casting, and may well be some fans’ favorite character come series’ end. Sam Claflin is brilliant as previous victor Finnick, and Jenna Malone steals scenes as the vicious Johanna Mason.

Director Lawrence (I am Legend) is a great replacement for Gary Ross, whose first film was a bit sporadic in its execution. The camera stays still and wide much more often here, allowing us to thankfully see the beautiful vistas and intense action much more clearly. Veteran writers Simon Beaufoy (Slumdog Millionaire) and Michael Arndt (Toy Story 3) shove a lot of characters and events into 2 ½ hours, but the film never feels bloated. Scenes are allowed to breathe, and they thankfully avoid the rushed ending of the first film. That Catching Fire ends on a cliffhanger is a natural consequence of the movie being a middle chapter, but at least it’s a good one (brilliantly shot and exactly the same as the book, refreshingly). The fact that so much material fit into one movie without any major omissions is somewhat of a marvel.

Catching Fire is not a perfect movie. There are small plot holes here and there, and, in a film with so many characters, some are bound to be underdeveloped. But, in every important way, it’s the perfect sequel. It amplifies the things that worked in the first film while all but eliminating the many things that didn’t. Lawrence has breathed new life into a franchise that was already in danger of becoming stagnant, crafting an utterly satisfying, visually stunning and insanely thrilling ride from start to finish. It even achieved the rare feat of getting me genuinely excited for the next one. Your move, Hobbit. 

I don’t envy Hayao Miyazaki for having to follow up a film like “Spirited Away.” For inspiration, the Japanese animator turned to Diane Wynne Jones’ book “Howl’s Moving Castle” and adapted it into an animated adventure. By many accounts Howl is a great film, but as a Miyazaki film it settles for being merely good.

Sophie is a lonely girl who works in a hat shop when she comes across the mysterious and majestic wizard Howl. When Sophie is transformed into an old woman by the jealous Witch of the Waste, she tracks down Howl and his magnificent magic walking castle in the hopes of getting the spell reversed. Meanwhile, the kingdom is at war and the king is recruiting witches and wizards to fight.

Several things stand out in this movie. Howl’s castle is a wondrous character unto itself, filled with portals to distant lands and the heart of the castle, the belligerent fire demon Calcifer. The castle is spectacularly animated, fitting right in with other Miyazaki locations like Yubaba’s bathhouse and Laputa, the floating city from “Castle in the Sky.”

The characters are some of Miyazaki’s strongest. Howl is just a fantastic protagonist, particularly because he’s so flawed. Despite his immense power, Howl is afraid of everything, and he’s also a bit of a brat, which is a refreshing change for Miyazaki male leads. This makes for an immensely likable and relatable hero. The same can be said for Sophie. It is her immense courage and good humor that encourage Howl to face his fears and his demons.

Several things, however, conspire to make this a lesser effort from the famed animator. The first is simply that it is an adaptation. Miyazaki’s original stories are so exhilarating because they are his; the source material here is fine, but it does leave the director tied to a story he must try to be reverent to. Don’t get me wrong, the film is still incredibly inventive, particularly in its visuals, but it doesn’t quite exude the same level of uninhibited creativity as some of his previous efforts.

Then there’s the plot and the message, both of which are overly complicated and muddled. The first half of the film, with its focus on its characters and humor (finally, another truly funny Miyazaki film), is excellent, but as the plot thickens, the air begins to deflate. There’s some kind of war going on that isn’t explained very well, and the bland villain Madame Suliman, who has her own rather confounding reasons for recruiting witches and wizards for war. Also, a fantastic and mysterious character like Howl deserves a good back story, but when it comes its underwhelming and downright confusing. In terms of a message, Miyazaki seems to be making some kind of statement on pacifism, but it’s hard to get a message through when we don’t really know what everyone’s fighting about in the first place. Miyazaki films are known for their narrative simplicity and simple, clear yet powerful messages. “Howl’s Moving Castle” breaks rank in these regards.

I like “Howl’s Moving Castle.” The visuals and music are typically top-notch, and the characters are absolutely wonderful. But the story surrounding it all is a disappointment. Even a lesser Miyazaki film is better than 90 percent of anything else out there, but, by the standards of what has come before it, it is just an okay film from the master animator. It’s worth seeing, but don’t expect another “Spirited Away.”

Well, that wraps up Miyazaki May! I hope you’ve enjoyed and that I’ve encouraged you to check out some more films from my favorite of all filmmakers. It’s been a blast!

*Note: I stuck to films that Hayao Miyazaki directed, and avoided the studio Ghibli films he wrote or produced but did not direct. With that in mind, these are the films I did not get to this time around:

 “Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro,” “Kiki’s Delivery Service,” “Ponyo,” “Porco Rosso”

It’s May, and I’ve realized how long it has been since I’ve watched the films of master Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. I remember loving them when I was younger (I wrote a research paper on the life of Miyazaki in 7^th grade), but I’ve been curious to see how they hold up to these more trained eyes. Or, maybe I just love alliteration. Either way, Miyazaki May is on! 

To make one undisputed masterpiece in a filmmaking career is remarkable. To make two is almost unheard of. To make two in a row, well…that’s just what Hayao Miyazaki did with his simply magnificent follow-up to “Princess Mononoke,” “Spirited Away.”

Many people can point to a movie that made them fall in love with movies, or perhaps rekindled that love. For me, that movie was “Spirited Away.” I saw it when I was about to graduate elementary school and my family was facing a move. Its themes of courage in the face of change and embracing our fears rather than running from them really spoke to me and allowed me to weather a stormy season of my life. There are several reasons I fell in love with movies (both Miyazaki and otherwise) shortly after that point, but the major one was “Spirited Away.”

The film follows a young girl named Chihiro, who is, like I was, scared to move with her family to a new house, a new school and a new life. On the way to their new house, they get lost along a country road and come across an abandoned amusement park. When day turns into night, the park becomes a bathhouse for various spirits to rest, and Chihiro’s parents, seen as intruders, are turned into pigs, while she finds herself trapped in the spirit world as she falls deeper and deeper down the figurative rabbit hole. With the help of a mysterious spirit named Haku and a bathhouse spirit named Lin, Chihiro must convince Yubaba, the old witch who runs the bathhouse, to turn her parents back and grant them passage safe back from the spirit world.

Along the way, Chihiro comes across the best and most eccentric cast of supporting characters in any Miyazaki film, including a spider-like boiler man named Kamaji and a misunderstood dark spirit named No-face, not to mention and anthropomorphic frog and a giant talking baby. This is certainly Miyazaki’s strangest and most overtly Japanese film, and that is meant in the best way possible. The film is filled with surreal images; the spirit bathhouse is a marvelous creation, populated with the oddest creatures ever put to animation. It’s Miyazaki at his most creatively uninhibited; you get the sense the Ghibli animators were willing to try anything because, in the spirit world, anything goes. It’s such a thrill to watch this movie time and again, just to see all that the animators have put into the background of almost every scene.

This is also the first of Miyazaki’s films to use digital technology to aid in coloring and effects, and it shows; the visuals here are in a different league from what came before. The colors and creatures pop off the screen (and yes, one or two of them are computer generated). And yet, the purity of the 2D animation shines through. I’ve identified one of the biggest differences between hand drawn and computer generated animation: it’s all in the eyes. I haven’t seen computer generated films quite get eyes yet; there’s something to hand-drawn eyes, particularly in the Japanese anime tradition, that has not been replicated with better technology. They’re just so big, colorful and lovingly crafted, and they’re something I’ll miss as we continue to gravitate toward CG animation.

I appreciate Miyazaki’s focus here on traditional Japanese cultural rituals, myths and spirituality. This is the kind of world where the smallest action can have tremendous consequences, requiring a blessing or a curse to alleviate the situation. There is so much rich cultural practice and heritage here, it’s not enough for one viewing. I urge you to take the time to appreciate the cultural nuances that differentiate this from an American animated film.

At the heart of this film is the greatest of all Miyazaki protagonists, Chihiro. Unlike many Miyazaki heroes, Chihiro is not a noble figure from the beginning. She is a whiny brat, afraid of the unknown and unwilling to face what she doesn’t understand. But, when her name is taken from her by the witch Yubaba, she faces an identity crisis and realizes that her old self just won’t do. As she learns to face her fears in the spirit world, she begins to see that her old problems just aren’t as scary anymore. She is the most sympathetic of Miyazaki protagonists, because her fears are relatable, as are her triumphs. We often wonder how we can find courage in our own lives, and the answer here is that we will always fear what we don’t understand. If we seek to understand our situation and the people involved in it, we may not always overcome our fear, but we can obtain the courage to act.

The primary theme of the film is Chihiro’s identity. When her name is taken away from her, she must try to hold onto herself before she allows herself to be controlled by Yubaba. We find out that is what has happened to Haku; Yubaba has taken away his real name, and he has become her servant, forgetting in the process who he once was. Even with her name taken away, Chihiro is constantly learning and growing, discovering herself anew even with her old self taken away. I may not forget my name, but I can relate to a feeling of alienation in my own skin, like I don’t recognize myself. The key is to hold onto the essence of what we are.

Let’s talk about the music for a second. Oh man, it’s good stuff. Joe Hisaishi has scored Miyazaki films since time immemorial, but I think this is his best. It’s a master-class through and through; somber yet hopeful, melancholy as filtered through the eyes of a dream. Good film composition not only heightens but also adds to every emotion the film conveys, and Hisaishi does this expertly every step of the way. I don’t know where Miyazaki films would be without Hisaishi, but it’s safe to say they wouldn’t be as good. Think of a Steven Spielberg movie without John Williams and you’ll have an idea how essential Hisaishi’s scores really are.

There is nothing in “Spirited Away” not to recommend. It’s one of the scariest, most consistently surprising and emotionally soaring movies you will ever see. It’s the movie that solidified Miyazaki’s popularity in the U.S. (it won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature in 2002), and there’s good reason for that. It was also a movie that personally changed my life. I may not be writing on this site today if it wasn’t for this film. I was worried I’d look back on it today and see it diminished without the lens of childhood. I’m so glad I was wrong. If you could catch wonder in a bottle, it might look something like “Spirited Away.” I’ve watched it dozens of times and plan to watch it dozens more, particularly during one of life’s many scary transitions. I encourage you to do the same.

Here’s Hisaishi playing the opening theme to the film live. Enjoy.

http://youtu.be/d1ni1sVCgEk

 It’s May, and I’ve realized how long it has been since I’ve watched the films of master Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. I remember loving them when I was younger (I wrote a research paper on the life of Miyazaki in 7^th grade), but I’ve been curious to see how they hold up to these more trained eyes. Or, maybe I just love alliteration. Either way, Miyazaki May is on! 

And here we reach the granddaddy of Miyazaki movies. I’ve never been able to adequately describe to anyone the experience of watching perfection. The best explanation I have is that you know it when you see it, because it will be extremely rare. It doesn’t help that perfection is objective, particularly in the realm of artistic expression. With those caveats in place, “Princess Mononoke” is indeed a perfect movie, or at least the apex of director Hayao Miyazaki’s creative talents, taking his most potent animation skills and themes and weaving them into a truly epic tale that stands along in the pantheon of all-time great movies, animated or otherwise.

The story is more of an epic adventure fable than anything else the director has done, taking place in a fantasy world of gods, demons and men. Ashitaka is a warrior in a small, isolated village who is given a fatal curse by a demon he kills while protecting his village. When he finds out the demon was a god infected by a ball of manmade iron, he sets out to find the city of iron where the ball was made as well as a way to lift his curse. Along the way he comes across San, a girl raised by wolf gods and a protector of the forest, as well as the people of Iron Town, led by the ambitious Lady Eboshi.

The people are intent on expanding the kingdom of man by cutting down the forest and killing the fabled forest god, while the gods of the forest want to protect their domain by killing the humans and driving them out. At the same time, the people of Iron Town are in battle with invading samurai armies. As Ashitaka realizes he holds a special bond with nature, it is his fate to instigate peace with the warring clans and re-forge the bond between man and nature that existed long ago.

When I describe the film as “epic,” I don’t mean it simply throws a bunch of cool, grand things on the screen (although it does do that). When I think of “epic,” I think of the quiet moments as much as the moment of grandeur. There are so many scenes here of quiet despair, such as when Ashitaka leaves his clan and realizes he can never come back, or a quiet reflection overlooking a forest landscape. These help to break up the grander action scenes.

The film has more action that other Miyazaki films, which is much more violent than anything the animator has done. The movie is bloody but not distractingly so; the characters and setting are aimed squarely at adults anyway. From an artistic perspective, this is Miyazaki’s most visually impressive work; the wooded landscapes and verdant green hills pop, as do the many explosions and battle effects. Most overwhelming are the creatures that inhabit the forest, from giant wolves and boars to tiny forest sprites. This is the best creature design of any Miyazaki film, and that’s really saying something.

The film is also Miyazaki’s most powerful antiwar and pro-environment statement. The boar god at the beginning of the movie is turned evil by a ball of iron, an invasion of the world of man into the world of nature. There was a time when man and gods got along (it’s telling that the gods are all animals inhabiting the natural world), but when a mighty emperor heard a rumor that the head of the forest god would grant eternal life, the kingdoms of men began fighting for the opportunity to hold such power. The film reflects poignantly on the power of hate and how it can destroy all that is good and natural about our existence.

Humanity’s lost connection to nature and peace is held together by the dual protagonists of Ashitaka and San (aka Princess Mononoke). Ashitaka is a largely archetypal hero in both word and deed, but his desire to avoid violence (and his revulsion when he must resort to it) is powerful for this type of film. San is much more aggressive and violent, but is determined to fight to sustain her way of life; her back-story, which I won’t spoil, is also pretty awesome. They remind me very much of an earlier Miyazaki hero, Nausicaa.

Miyazaki’s heroes refreshingly play against the cinematic type of the “hero” who does what he has to do to reach his goal, even if it means compromising his ideals or getting his hands dirty. Miyazaki’s heroes always stay true to who they are, even at the risk of failure. They are very flawed, but are aware of their shortcomings and work hard to redeem themselves. To anyone raised on American action movies, it’s difficult to describe how incredibly refreshing and vital this type of hero is. If most heroes (or antiheroes) reflect how we often are, Miyazaki’s heroes reveal what we have always wished (and know) we could be.

If the film has a human villain, it’s Lady Eboshi, the leader of Iron Town. She is not so much evil as misguided, believing that mankind can rule over the forces of nature. She also seeks peace, but, unlike Ashitaka, she does not believe she will find it. She feels she resorts to violence out of necessity, rather than choice. By the end of the film, she has realized that we always have a choice, and so have we.

What else to say? “Princess Mononoke” easily earns a coveted spot at the top of the heap of animated classics, alongside the likes of “Grave of the Fireflies,” “Spirited Away,” “Wall-E,” “Beauty and the Beast” and “Akira.” It coalesces everything great about Miyazaki into one movie: noble protagonists, unparalleled animation, spectacular music (Joe Hisaishi again) and powerful indictments against war and the destruction of the environment, not to mention flat-out epic, unforgettable storytelling. Best of all, it reveals a storyteller at the peak of his creative talents, pouring out every ounce of his passion, skill and dedication into his craft. Would he be able to sustain this level out output in the future? Join me tomorrow to find out.