1.
12 Years a Slave
(dir. Steve McQueen) - Steve McQueen’s story of Solomon Northup stays with you.
It is a film that haunts you with its beauty and brutality. It is a film about
people, not concepts. It is not the story of slavery as a whole, it does not
offer reparations, or seek to define the struggles of an entire race. Rather it
tells the story of Solomon Northup and allows that story to be enough. I can
think of no other director, except for David Cronenberg, who can explore the
pain of a human body so effectively as Steve McQueen does here and in his
previous films (Hunger (2008), Shame (2011)). Chiwetel Ejiofor, Lupita
Nyong’o and Michael Fassbender each give masterful performances that are
impossible to look away from.
2.
The Wolf of Wall Street
(dir. Martin Scorsese)- I doubt there is
any film that Martin Scorsese and Leonardo Dicaprio could do that I
wouldn’t love. Along with all the drugs, sex, money, and grand speeches, the
film is an honest look at pathetic men.
Dicaprio’s fearless performance captures just how absurd and pitiful
Jordan Belfort is. And yet there is something immensely likable about Belfort,
at least in terms of this depiction of him. What makes Martin Scorsese such a
master is his ability to film without judgment, to capture honesty and let the
audience decide for its self what to make of the characters. In the hands of a
lesser director and a screenwriter other than Terrance Winter, this film could have
easily villainized Belfort. Instead Scorsese does what allowed his gangster
films to work so well in the past; he allows the characters to live on the
screen with all of their morality and charisma uncut.
3.
Her (dir. Spike
Jonze)- Spike Jonze focuses on humanity over technology which is what makes the
film so effective. Scarlett Johansson’s portrayal of the OS Samantha is one of
the most human performances of the year. The relationship between Samantha and
Joaquin Phoenix’s Theodore Twombly carries weight and relevance in terms of
what it means to be human and what it means to connect. Her
is science fiction but it is also science now in ways that are immediately apparent.
Yet unlike most modern SF, the film does not condemn humanity’s relationship
with technology. At its heart Her is an exploration of our ability to
communicate with one another, to know ourselves by knowing others, in whatever
form that other may take.
4.
Prisoners
(dir. Denis Villeneuve)- Villeneuve’s
direction, along with the cinematography of Roger Deakins, creates a cold
portrait of desperation with religious overtones. Hugh Jackman gives a powerful
performance but it’s really Jake Gyllenhaal who shines in this movie. It’s his
character tics, his way of blinking as if he’s taking mental photographs to
process, his tattoos, that contribute to the feeling that Detective David Loki
is well lived in character, someone Gyllenhaal knows intimately. His
background, which is never explicitly delved into, is a story wanting to be
told. He exists beyond the frames of the film and yet the audience is held back
from knowing him too closely. It is this restraint ultimately that makes the
movie work. The restraint in terms of Det. Loki’s background but also restraint
in terms the graphic nature of the story. It is what the audience doesn't see
that carries the most weight and this most evident in the final scene.
5.
The
Great Gatsby (dir. Baz Luhrmann)- Lavish, theatrical, and anachronistic
in a way only Luhrmann could construct, The
Great Gatsby captures the spirit of Fitzgerald’s novel despite the
liberties it takes. Lurhmann, as always, has enough artistic creativity to do
more than offer a cover version of Fitzgerald’s work (a la Jack Clayton’s 1974
adaptation). It is in the liberties he takes, the soundtrack and use of CGI
that makes the story worth revisiting. The
performances are earnest and tinged with the right amount of the melodramatic.
Every aspect of the film from the editing, to the costumes, and production
designs are expertly crafted in such a way that it is clearly the work of an
auteur.
6. Man of Steel
(dir. Zack Snyder) - Superman, the first superhero, is perhaps the most
difficult to adapt in a modern context. The comics in the recent years have
struggled with this as well. Man of Steel
successfully adapts the character and reintroduces him to the modern age. Zach
Snyder finally allows the character to step away from the Richard Donner interpretation
of the character. Snyder fleshes out Krypton in a new way and delivers and
Superman that actually throws punches. He excels at directing action sequences
and takes full advantage of that, delivering a worthy climax. The film doesn't shy away from the mythical underpinnings of the Superman story. It is the story
of a god sent to live among men, but a god who is alienated and ultimately
chooses further alienation. It is in the questions the film raises, the
possibilities waiting to be explored that made the film a success in my eyes.
7. Mud (dir. Jeff
Nichols) - Nichols coming of age story has trappings of Mark Twain in terms of
its realism and sense of adventure. Mud has the feel of a classic movie, one
that could have been made in any previous decade but still holds true today and
will hold true in the future. The performances have an effortless quality to
them. Every fame feels like a snapshot of Americana and is novelistic in its
structure and sense of intimately, personal stakes. Mud is an honest and
uncynical story of love and what that entails. It is these big ideas viewed
through a small window that makes the film work on the level
that it does.
8.
Before Midnight (dir. Richard
Linklater)- I hadn’t seen Linklater’s previous films
in this trilogy (Before Sunrise, Before Sunset) until this year. I
watched all three in order and while the film holds up well on its own, it is
in the journey of Celine and Jesse’s relationship over the years that make this
film such a worthwhile experience. Before Midnight, as part of a trilogy,
is a remarkable testament of cinema’s capability to bottle time. The film is
not so much plot driven as character driven and the dialogue is sharp, tender,
awkward, and painful in all the right moments. The exploration of the
relationship here is also complex enough not to be one-sided in terms of what
is exposed. In the end Linklater’s “Before Trilogy” is one of the most
interesting cinematic experiences I’ve seen.
9.
The Place Beyond the Pines (dir. Derek
Cianfrance)- The opening tracking shot through the carnival is one my favorite
shots of the year. There is an intimacy to the filmmaking which makes each of
the characters feel like people you know, despite how briefly they each appear
in the film. The most interesting aspect of the films is its four narratives,
arching across generations and how the characters parallel each other. Pines is an unglamorous look at crime,
poverty, corruption and forgiveness. Despite the star power of Ryan Gosling and
Bradley Cooper, they blend in seamlessly with the film and their settings
instead of becoming a distraction from the otherwise low key casting choices.
In addition, Mike Patton’s score is hauntingly effective.
10.
Spring Breakers
(dir. Harmony Korine)- Simply put, Spring
Breakers is frightening. It is a horror movie operating outside of the
genre of “horror film.” It is exploitative and self-indulgent and it rubs your
face in it. It is a movie that in some ways begs not to be liked. There are
points in the film that are empty, empty in terms of offering new content,
empty in the fact that the audience is exposed to repeated shots of partying,
over-indulgent college students. But it is in the emptiness that the horror
comes in. The emptiness reflects an
empty youth culture, a culture where “masks” are used to cover up the lack of
individuality, the lack of goals, the lack of identity. James Franco’s Alien,
cobbled from southern rappers and an over-exposure to Scarface, is not an outsider
despite his namesake. In his cornrowed, grilled persona he is right at home
with the rest of the “spring breakers”; he is right at home with people who
live life like video games as if their actions lack consequences. These
characters dance around consequence throughout the film. The feeling that
something tragic would happen was unshakeable. And yet in the end the real
tragedy is perhaps that the ending is not tragic enough.