Friday, January 22, 2021

The 12 Best Movies of 2020


The year 2020 will undeniably go down as a transformative year for the American film industry. As with any number of other industries and institutions (the entirety of the U.S. included), small, longstanding cracks were briskly turned in gaping chasms. We don’t yet know what the final consequences will be, even as we can speculate endlessly about streaming’s dominance and the end of theatrical exhibition. But I don’t feel too inclined to focus here on what might be. Let’s just take some time to appreciate what we know for sure.

In 2020, movies were experienced in living rooms and on laptops and subscription streaming’s investment in original content came through in a handful of excellent films that we were able to enjoy in spite of the endless barrage of horror and pain that was happening beyond our screens. Oddly enough, few of the films that I found to be among 2020’s best were escapist. As with most years, the best cinema confronts us with and helps us process the larger problems of the world, and the best escapism often finds ways to do this too (as contradictory as that seems). Here are 12 films that I found worth recommending. I hope that when I put together my list for 2021 that I will have experienced more of the entries on the grandeur of the big screen, sitting in the dark, alone together.


(Amazon Studios)

12. I’m Your Woman

Much of the best genre filmmaking doesn’t happen in the pure, dime-a-dozen genre films (that stuff bores and makes us roll our eyes); it happens in the revisionist work that is necessarily dependent on a working knowledge of those conventions. Julia Hart’s I’m Your Woman takes the 70s “on the run” crime film formula and deliberately refrains from indulging in the expected beats and characters. All that is relegated to the background, and it is the absence that consequently gives the film its appeal. By focusing on the quieter struggle of the gangster’s wife, this is a feminine entry in an aggressively masculine cinematic lineage and it’s all the better for it.

I’m Your Woman is available to stream on Amazon Prime Video

 

(Amazon Studios)

11. Small Axe: Red, White and Blue

Steve McQueen’s Small Axe, an anthology of five films centering on London’s West Indian immigrant community, often struggles to navigate its own ontological question—is it television or is it film? If it’s truly a collection of five films, they surely struggle to balance a consistent level of narrative and aesthetic quality that would stand on their own. Nonetheless, the third entry, Red, White and Blue, manages to be the most wholly formed and quietly powerful.

Depicting the true experiences of Leroy Logan (John Boyega in his best performance yet), a Black man who joined London’s Metropolitan police force in an attempt to combat its malicious racism from within, Red, White and Blue presents a profoundly challenging and ongoing dilemma: How do you fight a system through the system, and how do you live with the reality that the radical change necessary is more likely to be accomplished slowly and painfully?

Red, White and Blue, as well as the entire Small Axe anthology, is available to stream on Amazon Prime Video

 

(Hulu)

10. Palm Springs

Some films are best experienced without any prior knowledge of their premise, and Palm Springs is one such film. Without revealing what it’s actually about, however, I will say that it manages to unintentionally tap into a deep reservoir of emotion that the year in quarantine has produced. It’s a light and easily watchable film, no question about it, but there is a distinct sense of absurdity (as Albert Camus defined the term) to it as it charts a necessary but impossible search for meaning amidst a cruel and meaningless existence. As it so happens, the very struggle to live on in spite of it, and especially the connections that we build to make each day more bearable, end up being very meaningful indeed.

Palm Springs is available to stream on Hulu

 

(Netflix)

9. Da 5 Bloods

It seems fitting that it was Spike Lee who got the first cinematic word in following this summer’s wave of protests and racial reconciliation. His first hit, Do the Right Thing, remains as tragically necessary today as it was in 1989. While Da 5 Bloods doesn’t manage to top that classic (nothing Lee has made since has), it does manage to trace a deep line from the traumas faced by Black soldiers during the Vietnam War through to the enduring traumas of Black Americans in the homeland who, even in 2020, are in so many ways still fighting the same fight.

Da 5 Bloods doesn’t advertise its cultural commentary, however; this is still a film that forwards a very literal journey as it pulls inspiration from John Huston’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. In that respect it also features an impeccable transition of aspect ratios that we unfortunately never got to experience in all its glory on the big screen.

Da 5 Bloods is available to stream on Netflix

 

(Amazon Studios)

8. Sound of Metal

Sound is the one element of film form that frequently gets overlooked. It’s not hard to understand why: Diegetic sound falls squarely into the affective realm, so even as it’s deeply felt it largely escapes description. Sound of Metal is a powerful reminder of cinematic sound’s ability to make you feel, to render deeply internal subjectivities in external form so that viewers can understand another person’s struggle.

Riz Ahmed gives a tremendously affecting performance as a heavy metal drummer who unexpectedly and rapidly loses his hearing. What follows is a crisis of identity and a challenging transformation of the self; entry into a rich, often ignored community and culture; and the ultimate embrace a new way of experiencing the world that offers its own beauties.

Sound of Metal is available to stream on Amazon Prime Video

 

(Netflix)

7. Mank

David Fincher’s Mank, with its deep black-and-white cinematography, anachronistic sound mix, and fake reel change markers, is a nostalgia film in form and style, if not in narrative. This account of screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz’s time writing the first draft of Citizen Kane and his experiences with the various players who would make their way into the story in some form or another, is a deeply cynical look at Golden Age Hollywood and the political battles of 1930s California.

Mank isn’t a film for everyone. It’s largely bereft of dramatic thrust and may be a tad impenetrable to those viewers without at least some preexisting knowledge of Citizen Kane, its background, and larger American film history (in other words, to anyone who isn’t already a cinephile). That said, its pleasantly indulgent style is a compelling enough reason to stick with what amounts to (in an intentional parallel to Kane) a series of moments giving the overall impression of a life: Mankiewicz and his loathing of the right-wing politics in his Hollywood social circle. As Fincher has described it, it’s not a film about the authorship dispute over Kane’s script, but rather a film about the likely origins of some of its parts and what might have compelled Mankiewicz, having initially agreed to waive screen credit, to change his mind.

Mank is available to stream on Netflix

 

(Universal Pictures)

6. The Invisible Man

Leigh Whannel’s adaptation of The Invisible Man is a perfect example of a remake done right: It takes a basic premise and justifies its return through inventive application and contemporary cultural relevance. This is a terrific piece of horror/thriller, yes, and it’s engaging because of smart staging and framing, but what makes it great is precisely how it takes something familiar and makes it uniquely modern.

Being the victim of an invisible tormenter (literally) is the allegorical substance of a film that’s really about domestic abuse, gaslighting, and psychological manipulation. An abuser chips away at their partner’s dignity, gets their partner’s friends to doubt that anything’s awry, attempts to ostracize them from that outside support system, and ultimately gets them to question their own sanity. Now that is scary.

The Invisible Man is available to stream on HBO Max

 

(Bleecker Street)

5. The Assistant

A woman leaving my screening of Kitty Green’s The Assistant described it to her companion as “hyperrealistic.” Now, this is the comment of someone who probably hasn’t seen the 1975 French film Jeanne Dielman (3 hours and 45 minutes of mostly household chores performed in real-time). To her point, however, The Assistant is almost entirely a film about mundane office labor, but it’s that exact mundanity that conceals the misogynistic rottenness at its core.

Set at the New York office of, ostensibly, Harvey Weinstein’s Miramax production company, this is the restrained antithesis of 2019’s Bombshell. There isn’t a scene where Jane (the talented Julia Garner) is in a position where we fear for her immediate safety and the fictional Weinstein substitute is never actually seen. Instead, The Assistant is a film about the constant atmosphere of dread in a space where ongoing abuses go quietly (and systematically) unacknowledged. It’s a powerful post-#MeToo film that makes its point loud and clear without ever having to spell it out for you.

The Assistant is available to stream on Hulu

 

(HBO)

4. Bad Education

Cory Finley’s HBO film Bad Education pulls off something remarkable (or at least it did for me): It tells you upfront that its events are true and then proceeds to make you immediately forget this fact because those events are so outlandish, so ridiculously unexpected, that they could surely only have been made up. Stranger than fiction indeed.

For this reason, Bad Education is best experienced blind. What I will say is that it features a characteristically great performance from Hugh Jackman and that it will take you on a rollercoaster ride that you won’t regret agreeing to.

Bad Education is available to stream on HBO Max

 

(IFC Films)

3. The Nest

Relative newcomer Sean Durkin’s The Nest is a chilling domestic drama with plenty of political subtext to give it some serious (but not in-your-face) meat. Rory (a slimy Jude Law) uproots his family back to England in pursuit of a supposedly big financial opportunity, renting out an exorbitant country manor for his wife (the always incredible Carrie Coon) and kids. But this is not a film where the chilly mansion haunts its residents; rather, it’s the family and their unresolved conflicts that haunts it. Rory is a familiar persona—as the natural collision of empty late capitalist greed and fragile masculinity, he puts on a perpetual (and blatantly hollow) façade of financial wellbeing in an attempt to gain some semblance of self-worth in the eyes of others. He’s a conman whose primary mark is himself. The Nest is an arresting film with rewarding nuance but appreciated accessibility.

The Nest is available to rent on most VOD platforms

 

(Warner Bros.)

2. Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)

Look, is Birds of Prey—or, to use its delightfully obnoxious full title, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)—a work of transcendent cinema?  Probably not, but it’s been a year short on positive experiences. And in a year short of positive experiences sitting in the movie theater, Birds of Prey was the most fun I had with a new release, roughly a month before COVID-19 came crashing onto the scene.

Cathy Yan’s film is a candy-colored comic book movie extravaganza with the jumbled narrative and crass humor you would expect from its protagonist. It’s a simple crime film with endearing characters (all of whom are played by wonderfully charismatic actors, with Ewan McGregor’s antagonist as the cherry on top), punchy and stylish action scenes, and a great sense of fun. Oh, and it’s hella gay (never a bad thing). Since 2020 confronted us with misery at every turn, I cherish a film that gave me simple, uncomplicated joys as I sat in the theater with a big smile on my face.

Birds of Prey is available to stream on HBO Max

 

(Focus Features)

1. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

The standout scene halfway through Eliza Hittman’s Never Rarely Sometimes Always (where the film also derives its name) is a tour de force of performance and deceptively simple form. It’s a scene that takes many of our frequent cultural talking points and, like the best political filmmaking, reminds us of their embodied consequences. Great art like this takes broad, abstract concepts and refuses to divorce them from their inextricably human realities, and it’s stories like these that necessarily confront audiences to look at others with empathy.

The odyssey that protagonist Autumn—a 17-year-old girl from small-town Pennsylvania who travels to New York City to terminate an unwanted pregnancy without parental accompaniment—endures has clear sympathies. But it’s to the film’s credit that it never preaches; rather, it presents its case with naturalistic style, making us bear witness to the everyday acts of mundane terror that women everywhere experience. Though the events of Never Rarely Sometimes Always are often frustrating and heartbreaking, it’s the small acts of bravery and solidarity that it depicts that are most powerful.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is available to stream on HBO Max

 

(Sony/Naughty Dog)

Special Mention: The Last of Us Part II

I would be remiss if I did not make space to acknowledge the best feat of narrative storytelling in any medium that I encountered in 2020, The Last of Us Part II. The game, of course, owes a great deal of its effectiveness to the cinematic, and it’s the progress in that area that has successfully elevated video game storytelling in general over the last decade. At the same time, The Last of Us Part II’s success is more indebted to the qualities that are uniquely game-ic. Many films have effectively utilized multiple perspectives, but a video game’s ability to directly involve you in its characters’ stories allows alternative subjectivities to become fully realized. This potential exists in every video game, but never have I seen one take advantage of it so profoundly. The role that you as a player are forced into—an orchestrator of brutal violence and a vessel of immense anger and pain—dovetails with an ingenious narrative structure that exposes the harsh realities of revenge and relativity.

An absolute masterpiece and the pinnacle of this console generation of gaming, The Last of Us Part II is one of the greatest games ever made.

2 comments:

  1. Birds of prey was below average at best

    ReplyDelete
  2. Last of us part two is a special mention? It isn't even a movie...

    ReplyDelete