The Top Ten Best Films of 2018.

It's not always easy in the real world. In cinema, everything feels so simple, tidy, perfect. Outside, it's much messier, cynical, and at times spirit breaking. We all go through natural peaks and dips in mood, and I certainly had mine across the year. In fact, for the first time ever, I almost wanted to drop my reviewing hobby altogether, sometimes actively forcing myself to do so out of obligation (and I think some of my write-ups suffered for it). I wanted to feel uplifted, but the lackluster slate just wasn't doing it for me.

But it wasn't all doom and gloom, to be certain. Early in the year, national spirit was high as the Winter Olympics held their bow in PyeongChang in February, giving way to Black Panther becoming a cultural phenomenon, the latest edition of Royal weddings and babies, and greater, more inclusive shifts in the larger political pendulum (even if we still have a ways to go). That's without getting into some of the smaller, but no less meaningful acts of kindness performed by everyday heroes, that remind you of the kindness that people are still capable of. There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric sluaghterhouse that was once known as humanity, and so long as it keeps thriving, we have to believe it'll work out in the end.

And even with the weaker set of films than usual, when we needed them most, they showed up, even offering us greater variety in selection (interestingly enough, compared to my last list with 6 Best Picture nominees, I only included 3 this year). Black Panther being an early heavyweight, but also the smash success of Crazy Rich Asians, and a continually great level of creative diversity as well. Not to mention Marvel finally bringing all the pieces together for its spectacular multiplayer smash-em-up Infinity War, whose momentum they'll be attempting to keep up with Endgame this April. So while the doom and gloom may have been much, at least that escapism could always be relied upon, if not to mend it, than to at least ease it. So here's to those bright spots of 2018, and hopefully 2019 won't let us down.

As always, this best of list is purely as it stands at the moment, as I've still not seen some acclaimed films like Cold War, Burning, or Everybody Knows from Asghar Farhadi. I hope I'm able to watch them all soon, but for now, let's get to the real deal.

As always, some quick honorable mentions. Leave No Trace was one of the most understated and emotionally affecting films of the year for me, a terrific showcase for stars Ben Foster and Thomasin H. McKenzie, as a father and daughter navigating the complexities of social interaction. Sorry to Bother You was by far the year's wildest movie, a thoroughly original and at times scathingly funny satire of our Orwellian corporate overreach and homogenization, and makes the unapologetically bonkers mind of first-time director Boots Riley one to watch. Isle of Dogs saw Wes Anderson return to stop-motion with his same irreverent charm and wit, creating one of the year's most beautiful technical showcases with an outstanding hand-crafted build, and wringing great laughs and sometimes tears from its splendid voice cast. If Beale Street Could Talk was a strong return for director Barry Jenkins, taking a snapshot view of the lives affected by the abuse of authoritative power, and the odd and sometimes esoteric places in which love can be found, and taken comfort from. Eighth Grade was an awkward but no less honest portrayal of the waywardness and anxiety of teenage adolescence, featuring a fantastic Elsie Fisher holding the movie together, as its unspectacular, but no less charming and poised audience surrogate.

And without further ado, the countdown of my top ten films of the year begins.
Now, let's shoot something.

Number 10
Mary Poppins Returns
Dir. Rob Marshall

The original Mary Poppins was like capturing lightning in a bottle, a spectacle almost impossible to replicate. 54 years later, this contintuation to the blissfully magic film comes as close as can be expected, a splendid mix of maturing the material and expanding on its world, while also an utter nostalgic delight paying it giddy homage. Poppins is a film overflowing with magic, serving as mini-lessons for the 2 genrations of Banks children, in the midst of losing their home and the elder Michael and Jane having forgotten the incredible adventures with their old nanny. But that same magical spark is rekindled in their children, as she takes them on a series of thoroughly enjoyable adventures, from the hand-drawn Royal Doulton Bowl sequence, a visit to Mary's turtle-turning cousin Topsy, and a fantastic trip with the leeries through London in the incredible "Trip a Little Light Fantastic" number.

Holding the film together is its irrepressible star Emily Blunt, a perfect embodiment of the character's signature whimsy and charm, and making the character her own through greater use of her stern and candid demeanor. Director Rob Marshall is unapologetic in showing his love to the original film (although, sometimes a little too closely), crafting some of the year's most thoroughly enjoyable musical numbers, featuring fabulous new songs from Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, and brought to life through an incredible sense of spectacle throughout, especially through a scene stealing cast that includes Ben Whishaw, Emily Mortimer, Colin Firth, Meryl Streep, and an infectious Lin-Manuel Miranda as the Van Dyke to Blunt's Andrews. It may not be practically perfect in every way, but it's a splendid spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down. A breezy weep and wail. (To the rest of ya', that means 'tale.')

Number 9
A Quiet Place
Dir. John Krasinski

As horrors compete to overload themselves with jump scares, and studios challenge each other to outvolume their films, A Quiet Place is a terrific film that comes along to buck both of the trends, resulting in one of the scariest, and most meticulously built horror films of the decade. True to its title, A Quiet Place has a heavy reliance on its sonic elements to tell its story, as mankind has taken to silence to survive monsters that track and kill based on sound. With very little dialogue, exposition is kept especially sparse as the people in this world have regressed to the primeval instincts of cavemen, relying on sign language and physicality to communicate with each other, and stripped down to basics surviving through guerilla tactics, using that simplicity and its heightened soundscape in surprisingly intelligent, and effective ways.

Director John Krasinski shows incredible faith in his audience's ability to fill in the gaps laid out in his visual storytelling, providing an intimate family drama that serves as our emotional anchor, whose characters are brought superbly to life by Krasinski himself, alongside Emily Blunt and Millicent Simmonds. At the same time, he's also able to craft an utterly claustrophobic and horrifying chamber flick and effective creature feature. Given how heavy the silence of the film is, it makes even the most insignificant sounds feel earth-shattering in their impact, resulting in some truly effective sequences of terror, including Blunt's unfortunate collision with a nail that then brings the grisly creatures prowling through their cottage. Even its jump scares serve as an aid to the film rather than a detraction. It actually goes to put Cloverfield to shame, giving us eerie thrills without sacrificing its brains.

Number 8
Can You Ever Forgive Me?
Dir. Marielle Heller

The story of biographer Lee Israel and her signature 90's forgeries is utterly outrageous, but also an utterly entertaining story as brought to us in Marielle Heller's latest dark comedy. Starring Melissa McCarthy as the anonymous Israel, Can You Ever Forgive Me attempts to cut to the core of the infamous counterfeiter, or at least, as deep as it can actually cut, given what an ironically open book she seems to be. Israel is not  a difficult case to read, a lonely, bitter woman who's eroded from the spotlight, but also seemingly devoid of her own authorial charms. She's such a reclusive figure, so unwilling to shed her skin, it's no wonder she's so good at hiding behind her subjects. She provides the film, and writers Jeff Whitty and Nicole Holofcener, a terrific character study, that even despicable as she can be, is wisely not judgmental about her, or of the larger than life consequences (itself possibly exaggerated in meta-fashion) she found herself at the center of.

The key here is reality vs. expectations, as while Israel's letters may have been fake, they certainly were entertaining, questioning us as to what it was that drew us into the people with their signatures on the page, and also giving added insight into the damaged psyche of a broken woman. Melissa McCarthy is finally given a tremendous dramatic role, towering over the film with a vulnerable and melancholic central performance, that aches as it amuses with a savage sense of humor. But stealing the show from under her is Richard E. Grant as her drinking buddy and accomplice, who brings the full blown camp and bravado of a queen, living in the now and cursing tomorrow's consequences. Seeing them matched together results in some of the funniest, most sharply written and performed chemistry you will see all year. Regardless of its authenticity, it's an absolute charmer.

Number 7
Black Panther
Dir. Ryan Coogler

The MCU hit it big in 2018 with the earth-shattering Infinity War, and Ant-Man and the Wasp... which exists, but their 2018 opener easily stands as their finest film thus far. While adhering to the usual traditions of the larger Marvel Universe, director Ryan Coogler also managed to shatter those pre-conceptions by reinventing its mold, especially when it came to the central morality at play. The world of Wakanda is a glorious sight to behold, built on awe-inspiring technology, and graced with generations of honor and nobility. But with the adamantium the nation lays upon, it could also be used as a weapon. While Wakanda hides in sheltered obscurity, the rest of the world continually tears itself apart, which any of the nation's military could make make quick work of. But such a force could just as easily be manipulated, becoming a tyrannical force under ill hands, raising strong moral and politcal quandaries of action vs. inaction.

It makes for a great test of will between Chadwick Boseman's King T'Chaka and Michael B. Jordan's N'Jadaka, both strong performances and powerful characters in their own right, with Jordan in particular standing as the best villain of the MCU. Further aiding them is a strong supporting cast with their own vital contributions, including the scene stealing likes of Letitia Wright and Andy Serkis. But in addition to that thoughtfulness, Black Panther is also incredibly stylish, featuring some of the finest world building and spectacle in a Marvel movie yet. Despite some dodgy CGI, it features some of the best action sequences that has ever graced the MCU, that heavily emphasize the speed and power of the Panther and his movements, especially in one fantastic casino brawl shot in a continuous take. This is easily the best blockbuster of the year. WAKANDA FOREVER!

Number 6
First Man
Dir. Damien Chazelle

Two years ago, Damien Chazelle captivated my heart with La La Land, and in his follow-up, depicting Neil Armstrong's iconic mission to the moon, he also managed to captivate my senses. Playing like a mix between Steven Spielberg and Paul Greengrass, First Man takes a very patient look at the arduous research and extensive training that went into the mission's preparation, almost feeling documentarian in its approach. In these extended sequences, Chazelle candidly lays out how steeped the mission is in peril, as the teams take to their testing both on land and in space, and the dire consequences should the most insignificant variable take effect. In these scenes, Chazelle puts us in squeamish, and incredibly suspenseful POV shots, sharing in the seizure-like intensity experienced by the astronauts within the claustrophobic pods, and struggling to keep control, including one harrowing spinning spell where they try not to pass out from the G-forces.

Clinical though the film may seem, and anyone outside of the main Armstrong couple does get the short stick, it's also a film underlain with a strong emotional current, as the stoic Armstrong filters his still ongoing grief for his daughter, and slowly grows detached from his family, given the all too real possibility that he may not make it back to earth alive. Ryan Gosling delivers one of his career highights here, lending the famous astronaut a great level of intimacy and lingering melancholy without sacrificng his steely demeanor, while Claire Foy also excels as his earthbound wife, silently reflecting on what comes next should this mission be Neil's end. Capping it all off is the utterly gorgeous and cathartic moon landing, which ranks among the most captivating sequences of filmmaking I've seen in any movie all year. Having gone 3 for 3, I feel confident in calling Chazelle one of the finest directors currently working.

Number 5
Roma
Dir. Alfonso Cuaron

After another agitating wait between films, Alfonso Cuaron finally makes his long-awaited return, stepping away from big budget fare for his most stripped down, and deeply personal film to date. Chronicling the events of a family over the course of a year, so much of the charm of Roma comes from the incredible empathy Cuaron finds in his characters, themselves bit players in a larger narrative within the 70's Mexico scene amidst the Alvarez reform. Cuaron chooses to lend his focus to the more intimate of the two sides, as the struggles of the central family and their housemaid Cleo unfold, and the larger political movements in the country affect and play out around them. It's a daily grind to find solace and quiet in a changing landscape they don't understand, from a wildfire breaking out near their New Year's vacation home, to being caught in the middle of the Corpus Christi Massacre.

In some ways, it ultimately makes the conflict of the family feel minor in comparison, but in Cuaron's eyes, no singular story is too minor. There's a great deal of comfort to be taken in the tightly-knit and intimate home sequences, with a warm atmosphere surrounding their routines, even something as mundane as Cleo walking through room to room, switching off the house lights in a beautiful extended circular take. The film finds a tremendous compassion in its circle, built on a rough, but unconditionally loving bond between each other. It's a film of embracing the vital figures that come to shape who we become, even if that relationship isn't cemented by actual blood, given breath of life by some stellar ensemble performances, and Cuaron's assured direction that makes the film feel grand in spite of its meager appearance. It isn't an easy sit, but it's a very rewarding one.

Number 4
Incredibles 2
Dir. Brad Bird

Does it do much different from the original film? Probably not. Is it one heck of a thoroughly entertaining and well-rounded movie that proves how well Pixar can work a sequel? Absolutely! Pixar's star family continues right where they left off, still in the midst of a political ban on Supers, leading to Helen rising up as the new poster child for their legalization. Like the original film, this sequel would still be great if stripped of its superheroics, given the razor sharp quality of the character writing, and what compelling figures the Parrs are. As Helen finds new excitement reliving her glory days, Bob struggles to readjust as a stay at home dad, with all the tough school assignments and emotional turbulence exhibited by their children. None the least of which is owed to Baby Jack-Jack and his plehtora of new powers, who easily becomes the film's secret weapon, and probably the funniest character of any movie in 2018.

Brad Bird is having the time of his life stepping back into his retro stylish world, as well as supplying greater depth to the perception of Supers in a world content in their absence, with consequences calling into question the good that they ultimately do, especially as technology evolves and powerful new threats emerge to battle them. It's as high caliber as anyone would expect of Pixar's writing, but also results in the most thoroughly entertaining theater experience I had last year, as Bird and his animators let their imaginations run wild in the action, taking advantage of the extra freedom and suspension of disbelief allowed by animation, while also lending it an added edge of intensity and threat, highlighted especially in the blinding cage duel between Elastigirl and new villain Screenslaver. So while I do prefer the Pixar that sticks with more original ideas, I certainly don't mind when the result is this enjoyable. Marvelous, dahling.

Number 3
Hereditary
Dir. Ari Aster

2018 was a banner year for horror in my eyes, but none of those other films made my skin crawl the way that it did with Hereditary, which is easily the best horror movie I've watched this decade. Finding a nice mix between metaphorical and supernatural horror, much of Hereditary's twisty mind-games revolve around the ongoing grief - and non-grief - of a tragedy-stricken family, and the bad habits that came as a result of a toxic relationship between its matriarch Annie, and her mother. A relationship that came to shape terrible habits to come, and noticeable scars on Annie's wellbeing, sometimes only finding escape or release through her miniature design work, that emulate her orderly and meticulous, but bitter and angry attitude. Emotions that are all anchored brilliantly by Toni Colette, hiding a lot of sinister intentions and traumatic devastation under the cracking motherly appearance.

As it is with the dark secrets that Annie's mother hid, not everything in Hereditary is at it seems, passed on and unwillingly absorbed like the same genetic trickling of the title. There's a lingering and pervasive sense of dread all the way through, as the once grounded family drama gradually begins to unravel, reaching a point where the line between reality and fantasy becomes completely blurred, and the psychological scares start taking over. And when they come, they hit hard, as the sins of the family (including a fantastic Alex Wolff) start manifesting in frightening new ways, driving its victims to the brink of insanity, and craving bloodshed as payment. It's a film that keeps you guessing, never letting the feeling of someone watching you over your shoulder dissipate, and while its ending may be a bit too literal, it's still an outstanding film with a number of effective frights and haunts to keep you sleeping with the lights on. And it's almost completely devoid of jump scares, so bonus points!

Number 2
Won't You Be My Neighbor?
Dir. Morgan Neville

I talked about how this year was rough on me, and how much I depended on the cinema to offer me some escapism and relief. It came to me, in the form of this Fred Rogers documentary, that in addition to being a fantastic film, helped restored some of my lost hope for the world. An ordained minister teaching his morals through television over sermons, Rogers was a sensitive, but also incredibly inviting presence, that above all the chaotic pendulum swings in the world and changing national mood, encouraged above all acceptance of oneself and others. The film is unlike most documentaries of its style, built as a strong character study behind the complex philosophy of its central figure, who seems almost too perfect to be true. Such a meek man is he, compounded by his slim 143 pound measure, you find yourself taken aback at the command he could project, but especially for how keenly he could tap into the fears and anxiety of childhood, and as such can communicate with children at their level about such poignant feelings. In retrospect, seeing Daniel Tiger's duet with Lady Aberlin about being a mistake is revolutionary in what children's programming was capable of achieving.

But unlike most performers that keep their character and their person separate, Rogers was no such case. Because we're hardwired to be naturally cynical, it's difficult for us to accept that a man like Mr. Rogers could exist with no true flaws or ulterior motive. But that's the point about Fred, in that none of it was an act. Just a good man, who genuinely believed that showing a little kindness could make huge ripples of change, and that patience and compassion could triumph over mean-spiritedness. Whether Fred was ahead of his time or had no place in the world at all, that's still a message that we desperately need right now, given what a hotly divided people that America has become in recent years, and how deeply we depend on that love for ourselves and for others. But just because it's been dimmed does not mean it's gone. Having spoken at length of such issues, we still see flashes of his spirit in the people he inspired as children, taking his gracious and accepting nature to heart, and making the world feel just a bit more bright. And so long as those acts of kindness carry on, some part of him will always live on, a fire that not even the most cynical of covfefes can extinguish.

Oh, how I wanted to put this at number one. I almost did. If only because it made me happy in a year that seemed built to break me down. But just as the year was finally over, something unexpected came along to take that honor, while bringing a unique joy of its own. That being...

Number 1
The Favourite
Dir. Yorgos Lanthimos

I mean, it's right there in the title. Honestly, it feels odd for me to call The Favourite a delight, given what a savage sense of humor the film has, but that's precisely what makes it so charming, and I do love a good comedy (is there any cake?). No other movie this year has made me want to keep going back to it the way this did.

I've always found Yorgos Lanthimos' films, high-concept though they may be, to be very cold and inhumanly candid in their approach, but here deferring screenplay duties to other parties, he manages to craft his most accessible film yet, while still retaining that unmistakable voice of his. He finds a perfect match for his offbeat brand of humor, within the wasteful and underhanded prattishness of early 18th century Parliament, and the constant infighting and backstabbing that doesn't feel too dissimilar to that of the world today. The film plays like a satire of stuffy costume dramas, as those wealthy men on high gamble on makeshift duck races, and take fun in throwing fruit at a naked man in a powdered wig. The key trait here is excess, in extravagance, attaining wealth, and even violently undermining the opposition through violent shouting fits and underhanded manipulation. There's a very pointed deconstruction here of how fragile that masculine ego is, and as evidenced by a hilarious visual gag of Nicholas Hoult stroking his cane, essentially boils down to a competition to prove who's the bigger man.

But on the opposite end is it's complex female perspective, themselves victims and culprits of said manipulation. The Favourite is largely a battle of wills between Emma Stone's Abigail and Rachel Weisz's Sarah, both competing for the good will of Olivia Colman's Queen Anne, and the dirty fallout to come from it. Abigail, coming from a disgraced background traded off by a drunken father, begins unearthing much dormant unpleasantness to worm her way up the class pedestal, but in doing so finds herself in direct conflict with Lady Marlborough. The latter having earned the Queen's trust as her confidant, she proves particularly unwilling to part with her position, but having finally worked her way up the ladder, the former has no desire to stop climbing, becoming much like her male counterparts in her willingness to sabotage. All for the affections of a lonely and gout-ridden Queen driven to misery by her grief, who in the one act of control she has seems to greatly enjoy seeing the two fight over her.

The roles allow for a tour de force collective performance for its three central ladies. Olivia Colman in the showiest turn of the three as the manic Queen stricken by tragedy and shifty opportunism, Emma Stone both playing into her usual likability and subverting it by making us detest her by the end, and Rachel Weisz in the performance of the year selling an incredible heartbreak and toxicity as she enjoyably plays it with such candid cattiness. That vicious tug of war best comes to represent the wicked heart in which the film is steeped, bathed in a dark sense of humor built on blistering pain and discomfort, that even behind its lavish and beautiful production values, yields a much more sinister and venomous ire beneath the surface. And no better place can this be felt than the film's ending, as the war for the Queen's affections pay off in an intentional anticlimax, laid out in one final cruel stroke of humiliation.

The Favourite is not an easy film to stomach, nor is it the crowdpleaser of the year, but it is easily the most rewatchable, rewarding, and well-crafted film to come out of 2018. 'Tis a real jape, reveling in its macabre and savage bite, the kind of remarkable film I never knew Yorgos was capable of, and hope he comes back with again soon. I will put up with 100 The Lobsters if it means I get another Favourite. Just terrific in every way.

It's done! 2018 is now over for me! I can finally put that disappointment to rest, and hope for the best to come from 2019. And coming up soon, I'll be back with a list of my most anticipated releases of the year, and my hopes that they'll rise above the lackluster fare of the last. Until then, I thank you for reading this list, and joining with me on this wild journey. Here's to the future, and I'll see you real soon.

Gucci!