Monday, February 17, 2020

The Top Ten Best Films of 2019...

Sorry that this is coming out so late. I've been very busy, and haven't had much time for writing.

With the bad side of 2019 behind us, we can look onward to the positive. And compared to the slate of 2018, which generally left me apathetic in spite of its very high highs, 2019 made up for it with plenty of good, quality films. As well it should be, given what a year of events it was.

2019 fittingly looked to be the year when all things in the decade came full circle, especially in the world of pop culture, what with the number of big franchises that closed off their final chapters, or at least closed off their sagas. We saw the end of Game of Thrones, Marvel's Infinity Saga, the current Star Wars trilogy, the original X-Men timeline, the Toy Story films, Martin Scorsese finally unveiling his passion project The Irishman, and many more. For all that pop culture impact, it's no surprise that Disney towered over the worldwide box office, with their non-Fox films garnering them $11 billion dollars in profit (side note: $200 of which was mine), including Avengers: Endgame dethroning Avatar as the highest grossing film of all time.

And for someone who really needed some comfort viewing for relief, when I felt like I needed it most, it showed up. Heck, Frozen 2 I've dubbed the year's okayest movie to make me tear up. And with my A-list subscription, it also helped me to break out of my comfort zone and discover new movies I'd otherwise miss out on. As 2020 opens, and hopefully things improve after Dolittle, I hope it will continue to look just as well.

And as always, I've compiled many of the films I've seen into a nice ranked list, but as always, because I haven't seen *everything,* this is in no way set in stone. For example, had I waited 'til June to publish my Best of 2018 list, Pawel Pawlikowski's Cold War would have easily taken the number 2 position.

But before the main event, let's shed light on some honorable mentions. The Farewell was a deeply affecting watch for me, that covered a very tricky subject matter with the most sensitive and objective viewpoint, aided by a stellar ensemble cast, especially Awkwafina and Zhao Shuzhen. Knives Out was some of the most fun I had in a theater last year, as writer/director Rian Johnson really enjoyed subverting the old tropes of the whodunnit genre, with another stellar ensemble making the most of their entertaining characters. The Lighthouse was a grim and claustrophobic descent into the dark side of masculinity, with the acidic power struggle between Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson anchoring it, as the two played off of each other spectacularly. I Lost My Body was an inventive and emotional wallop of a film, that spun a compelling narrative of self-acceptance and loss in both the physical and mental state, with its sketchlike and often macabre animation leading to some beautiful sequences. Blinded by the Light was an uplifting personal journey via Bruce Springsteen's music, that used its soundtrack for a tale of acceptance amidst cultural and societal pressures, and was just a universally wholesome movie that made me want to stand up and cheer.

So with those addressed, it's time for the main event, and the true top ten.
All together now: Jessica, Only Child, Illinois, Chicago...




Number 10

Wild Rose
Dir. Tom Harper
A movie that not enough people paid attention to, this musical drama was one of the year's most pleasant surprises. Aspiring country star Rose-Lynn Harlan has recently been released from prison, struggling to balance between her dreams of becoming a country star, and raising her two children who've grown distant since her incarceration. Rose lives by the creed of "Three chords and the truth," with country being an emotionally powerful outlet for her, and like country music itself, despite its familiar style, this movie does carry a lot of truth with every chord.

Anchored by Jessie Buckley's star-making performance, Rose is a character we're happy to root for, but also one whose recklessness we hope to overcome, as because of her blind devotion to those dreams, she begins pushing those closest to her aside, including Julie Wlaters as the mother forced to take charge of her children. Like the best country songs, the long and winding story of her quest for stardom is tinged with a bittersweet and sensitive touch, with Buckley herself contributing her voice to some fantastic singing sequences. Some tropes, old-fashioned or not, can still make for one very moving film.



Number 9
Toy Story 4
Dir. Josh Cooley
The sequel we didn't need, but nonetheless another fantastic addition to Pixar's star-franchise. While Toy Story 3 felt like a natural conclusion, this fourth movie manages to find that much more ground to cover with these characters, and confronting their always pervading fears of abandonment. With Woody having lost so much after leaving Andy, much of the film's strength comes from seeing him adjust to a new life, and trying desperately to find new purpose afterwards. With the reemergence of Bo Peep, a new fire is then lit under him, with the two sharing incredible chemistry in an infectious love story.

And there's a lot more themes the movie wishes to explore as well, as embodied by the adorable Forky, which directly evokes metaphors on our possessions, even the most tacky ones, yielding as much value as we see in them. We also have stellar new additions to the character roster, including the scene-stealing likes of Keegan-Michael Key, Jordan Peele, and Keanu Reeves. It's also the funniest Toy Story film yet, with so many laughs packed into its running time, but just as much breathing room to unfold its perfect, definitive ending. To call it the "worst" Toy Story film is only a testament to just how good these movies really are.



Number 8
For Sama
Dir. Edward Watts and Waad-Al Kateab
At once hard to watch, but absolutely vital to, this PBS aired documentary was one of the most affecting pieces of cinema I experienced in 2019. Following the daily routines of a married couple in war-ravaged Aleppo, Syria, the film documents their harrowing struggle to care for wounded citizens affected by the bombing runs, while trying to raise their young daughter amidst the carnage. In some cases, they know this is a losing battle, acknowledging the fact that to stay would be suicide, but were they to leave, would they be able to live knowing how that fear governed them?

Even with the specific focus of the film, there's a powerful universality to it, as families find themselves torn apart by forces beyond their control, but with how much they've dedicated their lives to their homes, to be forced to flee from them just feels wrong. Co-director Waad-Al Kateab captures the graphic and shocking footage with intimate sensitivity, using her personal stakes in the conflict as an engaging focal point, to show us the full effects of what this senseless violence can cost. It's a short, but powerful and essential piece of non-fiction, and one that left me in streaming tears.



Number 7
Avengers: Endgame
Dir. Joe and Anthony Russo
My pick for the year's most thoroughly entertaining movie, Marvel brought their glorious ten-year Infinity Saga to a fantastic close. In a significant turnaround following Infinity War, Endgame consciously makes the decision, for much of the movie, to cut down drastically on its action. With most of the attention being devoted to character growth and their grief following the snap, it starts to feel like the MCU's answer to Logan, with even the proposed time heist to restore the lives lost having their own set of stakes, namely Tony Stark who is determined to hold on to his life as a father.

The cast interplay is once again stellar, featuring some of the best work these performers have contributed to a Marvel movie, especially during the heist-driven second act, where Marvel takes us down memory lane in films past. With such a lack of action in the first two hours, once that final showdown does kick off, it's a gargantuan and rousing spectacle, featuring some of the best action in the MCU to date, but not at the expense of the film's intimacy, with Cap's final farewell and the film's closing shots being particularly bittersweet. One has to wonder how Marvel can possibly top this movie, which stands as the best in the MCU to date.



Number 6
Midsommar
Dir. Ari Aster
Fresh off his surprise hit Hereditary, newcomer Ari Aster returns with another unsettling, and equally fantastic dive into the mentally tortured psyche. Less rooted in horror, and based more in gruesome dark comedy, Aster seems to have found a comfortable niche in stories tackling mental illness, and the unpleasant forms they take, as they exact their toll on those inflicted by it. Namely, the film feels like a breakup movie, of a main character whose life and relationship has become so toxic, and who has grown so dependent on that familiarity, that she has severely undervalued her self-worth outside of it.

As a result, the film becomes a freeing journey of self-acceptance, but in deliberately twisted ways. Midsommar tends to be more disturbing than outright scary, mostly off the back of the film's pitch black and sometimes surreal sense of humor, including one very uncomfortable sex scene in a bed of flowers. But the film's real secret weapon is Florence Pugh, who tackles her fragile and unbalanced main character with such power and budding confidence, especially during the third act when she is at her most cathartic, capped off by its fiendishly satisfying ending. I can only imagine what horrors Aster has up his sleeves in the future.



Number 5
Little Women
Dir. Greta Gerwig
Say what you will about it being another adaptation, but some stories like Little Women always find a way to remain fresh even decades later. Following up her fantastic Lady Bird, writer/director Greta Gerwig brings a fantastic modernized touch to the material, placing particular emphasis on its core themes, of women and young people anxious and uncertain of their eventual place in the world, when so many of these things feel unfairly predetermined. The film has a refreshing stream-of-consciousness presentation to it, highlighted especially by its cross-cutting between timelines, which give events both of the past and present a poignancy they might have lost chronologically.

Even as an old-fashioned story built on similarly old-fashioned techniques, there's such a youthful and honest sense of vibrancy and life to this movie, the energy that Gerwig brings to the material being at once infectious, but also blisteringly close to home in regards to that growing apathy. It certainly helps that Gerwig continues to prove a fantastic helmsman, especially in the stellar performances she extracts from her massive cast, including standout turns from both Saoirse Ronan and Florence Pugh. I haven't seen enough adaptations to call this the definitive Little Women, but its earnest touch certainly ensures it as one of the best.



Number 4
1917
Dir. Sam Mendes
After an extended trip through the world of James Bond, director Sam Mendes returned with arguably his most technically astounding film yet. Inspired by the life of his late grandfather, 1917 pits us into a dangerous mission during WWI, and the desperate attempts of two men to stop the loss of 1,600 men. With the entire film shot and edited to appear as if one take, this brings a startling, and fear-inducing sense of immediacy to the events, especially as the fear and stakes of the mission gradually unfold, to the point that such efforts may be wasted on what is ultimately a suicide mission. But would they be able to live with themselves if they stopped?

And make no mistake, Mendes is the true star of this film, as his direction and technical prowess reach their peak capabilities, as he places a gradual sense of escalation in intensity and suspense, ratcheting up that tension even in the quietest sections. He also garners some fantastic work out of his usual collaborators, the legendary Roger Deakins especially standing out with his always lush and striking cinematography, that seamlessly and precisely captures the chaos of the ongoing war. Ditto the immersive sound design and music that offsets that action, especially in the heart-pounding second half, and the film is a poignant tribute on behalf of Mendes.



Number 3
Uncut Gems
Dir. Josh and Benny Safdie
Between their last two films, filmmaking duo the Safdie Brothers are quickly establishing themselves as the next Coen Brothers, and that touch certainly carries over in their latest film. Following the life of Howard Ratner, as brought to life by Adam Sandler in the performance of the year, watching this film is the equivalent of having a two hour anxiety attack, given the hot water that Howard finds himself in owing a huge debt. Then again, it's not always easy to feel sorry for him, given how often he makes those messes himself, with both Sandler and the Safdies crafting a character who, despite his charm, can make you feel terrible for ever rooting for him.

Then again, such a condition isn't entirely on Howard, given America's central focus on capitalism, that places such devotion to the dollar, that it breeds a toxic hierarchy, encouraging an addiction to gambling and risk, just for the hope of becoming as wealthy and powerful as those at the top. The Safdie Brothers meticulously weave us through the neon hellscape of New York, whose bright-lights progressively overwhelm the viewer as the tension mounts, conversations and voices become more heated and overbearing, right up to its boiling point ending. It's a remarkable film in every regard, and the 2019 movie that had me biting my nails most.



Number 2
The Irishman
Dir. Martin Scorsese
After decades spent bringing it to fruition, Martin Scorsese's long-gestating passion project finally saw the light of day, and the results were worth the wait. Fittingly for a three and a half hour long film spanning decades, Scorsese uses the film to capture a deep-rooted fear of aging. Stripped of the usual flashiness that most mobster movies revel in, the crime of The Irishman feels much less glamorous by contrast. As such, the lonely descent of Robert De Niro's Frank Sheeran feels even more bleak, a once good man driven to terrible methods in his gangster days, whose piling deeds and burned bridges eventually haunt him in his twilight years.

The Irishman is a movie fascinated with death, whether it be our own mortality, or lost lives directly tied to us in some way, whether it be confronting grief of loved ones past and those to come, or those lives ended in ill-will lingering over us like a specter of guilt. There's such a palpable sense of tragedy to the film, that Scorsese expertly weaves us through, especially with how airtight this movie feels, and what an excellent batch of performers he rallies together, including scene-stealing bits from a shouty Al Pacino, and an against type soft-spoken Joe Pesci. Despite its daunting length, it's so richly rewarding with every subsequent watch.



Number 1
Parasite
Dir. Bong Joon-ho 
It really couldn't be anything else. This year's (richly deserved) winner of the Best Picture Oscar, South Korean director Bong Joon-ho's latest film was one I instantly fell in love with, and the more I've spent reflecting on it, the more it's grown in my esteem. This is easily one of the best films of the decade.

Parasite follows a poor family living in a basement apartment, who through clever schemes and manipulation, slowly work their way into the graces of a rich family as their workforce. With that simple, but deceptively layered premise, Bong clearly has his sights set on themes of class divide and imbalance, which has been a running theme through his films. Even visually, those ideas are highly emphasized, with the very production design of the film built on stark contrast between the poor and rich homes, whose locations almost become characters in their own right. The outlook from the basement observes miles of homes left in unfortunate poverty, while the grassy lawn of the mansion is surrounded by trees blotting out the outside world.

That lawn itself is an effective metaphor (of which this film is so metaphorical), of those wealthy citizens who live oblivious to social issues outside of their bubble. Rain showers that may be destructive and dangerous to some, are instead viewed as healthy and beautiful by those without fear of losing everything. In essence, while it may be the poor Kim family infesting the Park mansion, those rich players are their own parasites, leeching off of the suffering of the other half, uncaring of the fact that the entire world could be crumbling outside. "Simple" is a perfect description of their worldview, painting these events in very black and white broad strokes, when the results are much messier, and while the film doesn't outright demonize them, it isn't afraid to highlight how, even unintentionally, that neglect can still be just as damaging.

But that simplicity is also a boon for the Kims, who realize how easily the Parks can be fooled, given their simple outlook. Through some impressive method acting and quick Google searches, it's very easy to fool those wealthy people, to the point that once they do fully integrate themselves to stay, they themselves begin losing sight of their bigger perspective. In a drunken rant, one character surmises that the Parks are only nice because "they can afford to be." And by losing sight of their poverty-wage lives, when another desperate party (themselves taking refuge in tunnels underneath the house) begs for mercy, they're unwilling to show it (they're not rich enough to be nice). So while these people may have a common enemy, Bong doesn't shy away from how those lower-income families can just as easily turn on each other out of desperation.

There's so much rich and textured satire present within Parasite, along with more broad pitch black comedy, which Bong expertly builds up through his seamless control of tone. A necessary tool if we're to be fully invested in the conflict of the Kims, who even at their lowest points, are still sympathetic and empathetic in every decision they make, performed by an outstanding cast of players, including Bong muse Song Kang-ho as the family patriarch, whose evolving journey from ambitious planner to disillusioned idealist lends to some of the most heartbreaking material of the film. The film's ending is especially melancholy in that way, echoing real world hopes of being able to live a wealthy life based on honesty, when in actuality, such things are likely to never happen.

Parasite is not an easy sit, but it is an endlessly fascinating movie, the product of a master filmmaker in complete control of his craft, contributing some of the greatest international viewing you're likely to ever see. Despite such language barriers, Parasite's themes still feel universal in their impact, and in many cases certainly struck a chord with me, and I will gladly continue to sing its praises from the rooftops. I may not get much originality points for it, but Parasite is richly deserving to be my favorite film of 2019.

Wow... It feels so metaphorical!


And so concludes my rundown of my favorite films of 2019, and of 2019 in general. I'm going to be taking a hiatus from this point on, occasionally returning with some future thoughts should something stimulate me enough. But until then, thank you for reading. Good night and good luck...

No comments:

Post a Comment