Tag Archives: bestoftheyear

My Top Films of 2023

Posted on by

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

    Posted on by

    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 2020

    Posted on by

    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!