by Nathaniel R
Swallow, one of 2020's twenty best
Dementia, toxic masculinity, mental illness, economic inequality, nationalism, and racism were impossible to miss in 2020. And for once I'm not even referring to the soulless depravity of the GOP! Those were also recurring themes in world cinema this past film year. The silver lining is this: difficult topics and trying times can make for great art. This past year's best films were hardly a cheerful lot, but the best filmmakers know how to incorporate tonal variety to keep their movies three-dimensional and lively with ideas, moods, and unforgettable scenes.
The following movies greatly enriched a very tough year. Whether you already love them or are yet to discover them I wish you the best film experiences with these...
IF THEY WERE FEATURES THEY'D FIGHT FOR TOP TWENTY PLACEMENT
2020 further blurred the lines, at least in terms of perception, between television and film, though we think there's an easy solution to the riddle (if streaming is indeed the future primary mode of delivery for both) that people just aren't addressing due to longstanding norms: How about if anything that is a singular story and made for one sitting is a feature and everything else is television? Simpler! But for the vague record I liked HBO's Bad Education (which already competed at the Emmys), the Almodóvar short The Human Voice, and three miniseries The Queens Gambit, Normal People, and Unorthodox as much some of the features you'll see in this top twenty list. (I am saving Steve McQueen's Small Axe anthology collection until after the Oscars since it's competing for the Emmys in 2021. I'll consider those 7 hours of screenings as my reward for making it through Oscar season.)
BEST OF THE UNRELEASED
What was or wasn't released this past year depends on a) how you view "releasing" and b) where you lived and c) what you had access to. It's a thorny issue, especially during a pandemic, but for my personal awards I had to make a decision. I am not following the Oscar's "through the end of February 2021" line because I believe in the calendar year as the sanest way to compartmentalize movies into lists/time frames. But 2020 was strange and we all had to make adjustments so I opted to count any film that had a festival or streaming release within the US as being eligible (unless it was purposefully waiting out on the pandemic for a later in 2021 release.
Of the films that didn't qualify, the three best were the lesbian coming-of-age drama Cocoon (from Germany), the man vs bureaucracy child custody battle Father (from Serbia) both of which I saw while jurying for the Calgary Film Festival, and the mysterious immigrant/massage therapist whatsit Oscar submission Never Gonna Snow Again (from Poland). You'll notice some 2019 festival titles in this top 20 and in my annual Film Bitch Awards. That's because they weren't released in the US until 2020... and in previous years I adhered strictly to "theatrical release only".
FAVOURITE DOC OF THE YEAR
I've never been comfortable comparing docs to narrative features, so they're always absent from the eventual top ten lists. I find their goals entirely different and, perhaps more pointedly, I simply don't see enough of them to feel they've been given a fair shot. (I leave that coverage to Glenn.) But all that said, I totally loved Kristen Johnson's personality-rich hybrid of dementia drama / family memoir / and movie-about-movies called Dick Johnson is Dead.
Honorable Mentions
20 Beginning (Dea Kulumbgashvili, Georgia) A startlingly abstract and confrontational debut about a fundamentalist woman reeling from both external and internal terrors.
19 True History of the Kelly Gang (Justin Kurzel, Australia) John Waters called it gory, insane, and homoerotic and he didn't lie. The movie, not to mention its truly committed thespians, is unhinged but completely mesmerizing.
18 One Night in Miami (Regina King, US) A riveting meeting of nascent icons during the fraught all-hands-on-deck Civil Rights struggle of the 1960s.
17 Swallow (Carlo Mirabella-Davis, US) One of the slipperiest most counterintutive feats of the year, an act of emancipation through self-destruction, told in bold colors with opaque feeling.
16 Beanpole (Kantemir Balagov, Russia) Postwar trauma was brilliantly embodied in a codependent female friendship in Leningrad. What a filmmaker Balagov is and he's only 29!
15 Babyteeth (Shannon Murphy, Australia) That cloying title and the depressingly familiar genre (cancer drama) made this one easy, but unwise, to avoid; it's a wonderfully acted and blessedly peculiar gem.
14 News of the World (Paul Greengrass, US) This handsomely produced western, taking place shortly after the Civil War, surprisingly illustrates current fault lines. They're dangerously old and familiar.
13 First Cow (Kelly Reichardt, US) Kelly Reichardt's films rarely have "energy" but this time her slow observational patience creates a cumulative wealth of feeling and even a thriller's tension. That ending truly lands. Her best since Wendy and Lucy and maybe since ever.
12 Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (George C Wolfe, US) August Wilson's play comes to exuberant life with one of the year's best ensembles.
THE TOP TEN
10 GAY IMMIGRANT DOUBLE FEATURE
I Carry You With Me (Heidi Ewing, US/Mexico) SPC. US festivals then 2021. 111 minutes
AND No Hard Feelings (Faraz Shariat, Germany) TLA. US festivals then streaming. 92 minutes
These are two separate queer movies but since they're about romantic connection, chosen family, the disorienting difficulty of immigration, and the tragedy of separation for the undocumented, who are we to separate them? Oscar nominee Heidi Ewing's genius fusion of her documentary instincts with narrative filmmaking in the decades-spanning I Carry You With Me charts the romantic course of two Mexican men, one of whom is planning to cross the border when they first meet. It's clear-eyed but romantic and soulful and pulses with authenticity. Faraz Shariat's less polished and wilder No Hard Feelings, partially drawn from his own experiences, is similarly stunning (despite a bad title). The latter film is about a German-Irani who falls in romantic friendship with a brother and sister in a nearby refugee centre. Though the film won the The Teddy Award at Berlinale in 2020, it's had a frustratingly low profile since. It's youthful energy, generous love for its central trio, and its authenticity around both queer sexuality and defiant immigrant identity are truly winning. Sharat is just 27 so we can't wait to see what the next ten years of his career will hold.
09 Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell, US) Focus Features. Dec 25th. 113 minutes
This movie spit in my coffee! For some mysterious reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it and came back for seconds. More delicious the second time. Yes, that places me very awkwardly in the position of one Dr. Ryan (Bo Burnham) rather than in the protagonist's more righteous shoes but it's one of writer/director Emerald Fennel's savviest tactics to give you no easy pleasures, despite giving you plenty. The sets are weaponized. The music is poppy but curdled. And the "hero" herself Cassandra (Carey Mulligan, brilliant) has self-erased to the point where the only truly sympathetic characters in the film (Nina's mother, Cassie's parents) either beg her to stop, or weep from missing who she used to be. I, II, III, IV... you could count the ways this stylish movie goes rogue or self-harms, but somehow it works. Or mostly works. 2020 was the year of the messy bold imperfect movie -- films that were always TOO MUCH but full of ideas and great moments, and hard to shake. I'm talking films like True History of the Kelly Gang, Bacurau, Possessor, Da 5 Bloods and more; Promising Young Woman was their reigning queen.
08 Wolfwalkers (Tom Moore & Ross Stewart, Ireland) Cartoon Saloon. November 13th. 103 minutes.
Cartoon Saloon continues to be a miracle of an animated studio and with Wolkwalkers they may have made their best film yet. Like their eye-popping debut The Secret of Kells and their gorgeously adventurous Song of the Sea, they're harnessing Irish folklore and pairing it with their own exquisite artistry to create movie magic. Wolkwalkers tale of a hunter and his daughter who are suddenly on different sides of the crossbow after the daughter has a contagious run-in with a mystical wolfpack, is tense but joyful. The hypnotic recurring image of the wolf pack leader Moll MacTire, lost in a kind of trance as her spirit is trapped elsewhere, is both serene fierce. It's a takeaway image as beautiful and vulnerable as wild animals in vanishing forests.
07 The Father (Florian Zeller, UK) SPC. US festivals. Qualifying in Dec... then 2021. 97 minutes.
Dementia was a running thread in 2020 cinema. Mental decline became smart allegorical horror (Relic), straightforward drama (Supernova, Falling), and even, as mentioned, a treatise on filmmaking itself (Dick Johnson is Dead). Slightly less ubiquitous but still hard to miss were one-set movies based on hit stage plays. In both of these subcategories, The Father reigned. It isn't just Anthony Hopkins' sublime performance, though you'd be forgiven for assuming so, given that he's getting all the credit, but in the delicate shape-shifting of the talented supporting cast and in Florian Zeller and crew's rich filmmaking. As Eric so perfectly stated in his review, the exquisite craft really sneaks up on you. That kind of leap between mediums -- being reknowned in one and then somehow intuitively understanding the new foreign medium and its different needs, is not common or easy and Zeller never breaks a sweat. He first won awards as a novelist and then as a playwright. Now he's a filmmaker. Which artform will he take up next?
06 Another Round (Thomas Vinterberg, Denmark) Samuel Goldwyn Co. December 18th. 117 minutes
05 Sound of Metal (Darius Marder, US) Amazon Studios. December 4th. 120 minutes
At first glance there isn't much that unites Vinterberg's spirited enjoyable dramedy and Marder's muscular sullen drama. Another Round tells the story of Martin (Mads Mikkelsen) and his fellow middle-aged high school teachers, experimenting with constant boozing to revitalize their lives; they've long since checked out and they want to feel life again. Sound of Metal begins on the road with young metal drummer Ruben as his life goes off the rails due to irreversable hearing loss. Both films are blessed with exceptional towering leading performane from Mads Mikkelsen and Riz Ahmed, respectively, and middle sections where the men seem to find happiness before discontent marches back again. But mostly what unites them is their perfect twin endings, one ecstatically musical and wild, the other ineffably sad and silent, the chaos of the world surrounding them both. These films ask Martin and Ruben to let go of the past, embrace their present and find peace. But will they? Both films linger beautifully but with some discomfort, however you'd answer that question.
04 Palm Springs (Max Barbakow, US) Neon. July 10th. 90 minutes
Groundhog Day doesn't own the concept of looping time. Eternal Sunshine doesn't own the message that loving someone is still important even if it might end brutally or with a complete memory wipe. Palm Springs is an already undervalued example of the truth that all stories have been told before but any gimmick or trope can feel fresh and revelatory in the right team's hands. Nyles and Sarah may dread spending every day at the same wedding but the movie will surely become a perennial and thereby keep their loop going. Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti give performances that should be studied in comedy acting class for how much they're juggling. In addition to being hilarious they're also detailing the nuances of getting to know someone while illustrating the fear and anxiety that can come from vulnerability in romance. While doing that, they're also crafting three-dimensional personalities so your characters aren't just types but this Nyles and this Sarah who have lived before this movie to make their stuck-in-time problem really land. It's the best romantic comedy since The Lobster and though no one becomes an animal, we do feel for that goat.
03 Minari (Lee Isaac Chung, US)
A24. Several US festivals January-October. Qualifying in Dec... then 2021. 115 minutes
You know what's the rarest of cinematic beasts? A gentle drama. No movie felt more like a salve to this particularly difficult year than Lee Isaac Chung's moving family story, part memoir, part fiction, all lovely and comforting, without ever pandering or simplifying itself. That's true even when it's facing down hard topics like the difficulty of marriages, economic hardship, time with relatives in tight living quarters, being a racial minority in white rural America, and especially the way the American Dream can give people drive and purpose but also pull them under. The Boston Globe's pull quote was "It will break your heart only to piece it back together stronger than before" and it gave me professional jealously because, yes, that blurb. Exactly.
02 Nomadland (Chloé Zhao, US)
Searchlight. Several US festivals. Qualifying in Dec... then 2021. 108 minutes
Talk about aging well. And I don't mean Frances McDormand, though she is aging exquisitely, by always being true to her self and f*** you if you don't like her anti-movie star brand of movie stardom. I mean the film itself which is far more than the Fran Show though it's also that. (Note that its star even goes so far as to practically play a 'what if' economically precarious version of herself; "Fern McD..." is all we learn of her character's name in Nomadland). The first time through Nomadland I marvelled at its quiet beauty and thought long and hard about its socioeconomic realities and how we came to this place in American history. The second time through, months later having thought of it consistently all throughout that gap, sometimes with ornery questions about whether it was romanticizing something we should be angry about, it was a different beast. As a study of fleeting awkward human connections and loneliness -- Fern, has such a hard time being with people and it will only getting worse the longer she lives this way -- it's fascinating. As a study of how entrenched grief and loss can become, it's devastating. But it's also filled with peace about the difficult journey of life. I'll see it a third time 'down the road' and it will be just as beautiful but different again. Older and perhaps wiser, too.
01 And Then We Danced (Levan Akin, Sweden/Georgia)
Music Box Films. February 7th. 117 minutes
Falling in love with a movie is a bit like falling in love with a person. First it's a lot of looking at them (although in the movies you're expected to stare) and then a lot of figuring them out: What makes them tick? What do they want from me? Will we be good to each other? These nervous dances of possibility are particularly fraught for queer people, especially in virulently homophobic places like Georgia, where this miraculously movie was surreptitiously shot and takes place (and where it was protested upon release). And Then We Danced tells the story of a gay dancer Merab (Levan Gelbakhiani) whose inner life opens up when he realizes that his new rival for a single male spot in the national dance team, Irakli (Bachi Valishvili), might actually be looking at him right back. The world around them, in this case the rigidly heternormative world of traditional Georgian dance, also sees them, but doesn't want to. But once you've accepted your own queerness, something can unlock inside of you; You're stronger, braver, and more defiant about not loving who you love which includes yourself. Irakli and Merab's bodies will never be paired onstage and the movie's bravura multi-faceted and winding scenes at group getaways and straight weddings reinforce this fact. Despite the pressures, Merab is already too strong to conform. He's cast aside the gendered expectations and will perform for you half naked in a femme and fuzzy hat, or stare you down with a girly flourish after he's proved he's twice the dancer you'll allow him to be in the film's seismically effective final. I fell so hard for this movie and it stared back, inviting me in. In the immortal words of Robyn, it sang to me. "Come get your honey."
What were your favourites of 2020? And yes this means the 21st annual Film Bitch Awards have begun. Check out page 1 here...