FOF Best of 2014
Updated: Oct 14, 2022
Year number two!
*My Top 11 Films or so of 2014 (in some particular order):
#1 Boyhood
Let me just be clear at the outset here: I wanted to dislike this film. I really did. I generally don’t like extraordinarily long runtimes in films, and I find film gimmicks to be as annoying as they are impressive. Double-whammy here! But, as this film progressed, it COMPLETELY won me over. Moreover, those two devices were intricately important to the narrative arc and profundity of the film’s conclusions. Let me try to it unpack this in a few words. For the first 75-90 minutes, my inner monologue went something like this: “OK, so we’re getting a lot of vignettes here. Snapshots. Lots of things are left unsaid. The plot progresses between them, and we are expected to fill in the gaps. Wow, Linklater’s daughter is the weakest actor here. By far. Ah, all the characters are getting older. Ooook?”
Then, the cumulative effects of the film’s scenes start hitting you, particularly as Mason hits adolescence. It’s becoming clearer that we’re quite literally watching this kid grow up. Then the three or four final scenes drop like a bomb. To avoid spoilers, I won’t quote dialogue specifics, though I found them to be monumentally insightful. Suffice it to say they are reflections on Mason’s graduation party and a dialogue between his long-separated, now world-wise parents, a discussion of empty nesting, a father-son talk on the nature of life, and a final theme statement as Mason’s college life begins.
It seems Linklater and Hawke are practically tied at the hip when it comes to filmmaking, and the latter really nails it here again. But, to me, Patricia Arquette rightfully deserves the best supporting actress Oscar which she will most likely be given. My hero just happens to be a single mother who, like Arquette, battled through work obstacles, broken relationships, and extreme levels of self-sacrifice to keep her kid on the “straight and narrow.” This hero just happens to be MY mother. Arquette’s portrayal here imbues that familial role with just the right touches of grace, brokenness, humor, and wisdom gained through life’s unpredictable ups and downs.
In the end though, the “gimmick” became so crucial to me because I felt the ground shifting underneath me as my own perspective changed. I began watching simply as a viewer, soon was a teenager and a son, and by the end, found myself reflecting (alongside my wife) on that crazy, nutso, wild, and crucial role of parenthood. How fast the years do fly by, and how quickly our kids do grow up? And mine are only toddlers! The vignettes are profound, not because they’re haphazard, but because they’re profoundly human. After all, as we reflect back on our own childhood and adolescence, what do we remember? Snapshots. Events. Not continuous timelines. We remember sweet 16 birthday parties, our own forms of rebellion, the music we liked, mistakes we made, and for those of us from “broken families,” all the strangely infuriating and blissful dynamics that arose from that arrangement.
Sorry haters…this is the best film of the year. Hands down.
But I still say Lorelei Linklater can’t act.
#2 Nightcrawler
Wowza! This is one of those films that just finds a way to get under your skin. I liked it more and more AND MORE as the days passed following my trip to the dyingplex. I could fill the page with details of Gyllenhaal’s magnetic performance, but I’ll return to that momentarily. To me, the film is among the year’s best because it nails so many of the “meta” things – media sensationalism, covert sourcing, and truth-stretching, cultural obsessions with voyeurism and hyperviolence, and the accompanying disintegration of humanity left in its wake. Some folks in some places will probably raise a cry that actual media outlets don’t do “this kind of thing.” Really? Let’s do some source checking before we sound that alarm. Perhaps we could snuggle up to Brian Williams for a few minutes. In any case, let’s leave that argument aside and accept the criticism for the moment – so the film is farcical. Great! Then it’s a scathing satire of our times, one which is sorely needed in our burgeoning age of media over-saturation.
To return to Gyllenhaal now, I feel his character has a rather profound antecedent. I wish I could say I thought of the comparison first (I surely did not), but I will relay it here once again. There seems to be more than a little of Deniro’s Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver in Gyllenhaal’s Lou Bloom. We see it from the iconic and sadistic eyes, to the anti-hero whose sick consistency in his deplorable “ends justify the means” logic is bone-chilling. Russo, returning from whatever rock she’s been hiding under since Thomas Crown Affair, also gives a powerful turn as the network chair who’s willing to do just about anything (read: pure sleaze) to get her story. The restaurant scene with her and Gyllenhaal is among the best of the year. Though the Academy has generally nailed the more distinctive and artistic films of this year, in my opinion they whiffed BIG TIME on this one. Please don’t do the same.
#3 Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)
My goodness, the hype around this film was massive! “Keaton’s career defining performance!” “Inarritu goes rogue and uses eternal steady cam shots!” “Magical realism.” “The return of Norton”…on and on. But are the critics right? Or is this a self-infatuated love affair – a movie about making a movie (play)! – which all the Academy heads just cannot overlook? After all, this one definitely has some gimmicks of its own.
I think so. In fact, there are many reasons why this film is exceptional. Let’s start with the camerawork. Not only is it impressive; it’s immersive. It’s clear from the word go here that Keaton is not quite right mentally. In some very real senses, he’s in over his head with even attempting to mount this Broadway production. So, what do the long takes offer us? In short, a chance to dwell inside Keaton’s skull. We feel his claustrophobia, as he flies in and out of narrow halls, on and off stage, between characters, family, and friends past and present. His personal drama enters the shot and departs as quickly, and all the while, his alter-ego lurks in the background waiting for a chance to seize control. The camerawork also allows for the story to seamlessly shift from dialogue offstage to acting in the play onstage to these bits of magical realism with the Birdman. (Think Haneke’s Cache or Fellini’s 8 ½ – the true best movie about making a movie). It’s hard to imagine how Inarritu could have pulled all that off otherwise.
Norton is awesome as usual here, and his character’s arrogant defiance is a perfect foil for Keaton’s attempt to be taken seriously as an artist. Bits of irony are almost always mined for their humor (how about casting a former Batman as the actor who used to star in Birdman superhero films). When’s all said and done though, the end of the film will likely make or break it for many people. For my own part, I see about three or four possible interpretations of the events that transpire. I love breaking down the scenes which preceded it to identify hidden clues or mixed meanings. But, for some, the end will likely be an artsy-fartsy bow on an outside-the-box crapshoot of a film. You’ll have to make your own call.
The last time the Academy had a chance to honor a movie about making art, Hollywood did not pass up the chance to stroke its own ego. That film was Argo. We’ll see what happens on Oscar Sunday this year.
#4 Whiplash
I pretty much adore most anything in which Darren Aronofsky’s involved. This really has nothing to do with Whiplash at all, except this: a few years back, Aronofosky directed a suffocating gem called Black Swan. Swan is essentially a behind-the-scenes look at the cutthroat world of ballet in prestigious schools. For these would-be stars, the pressure and tension on their performance are consistently ratcheted up to near 10 proportions. The result of this leaves the performers with very little breathing room, and inevitably sister turns against sister as each tries to climb over the backs of others to make their way to the top. The film is visceral, intense, stifling, and, in the end, phantasmagoric.
Though Whiplash keeps its feet firmly on the ground, in contrast to Swan’s ending surrealism, I would argue that the film does much the same thing with regards to performance jazz. Teller’s character, much like Portman’s, is a bright-eyed adolescent wunderkind hell-bent on making it big in the best school and performance halls in the country. He stays up nights, playing old casettes of jazz drummers, banging out their cadence with increasing proficiency.
All is well for Andrew Neyman (Teller) until he comes under the tutelage of J.K. Simmons’ Terence Fletcher. It could be argued pretty convincingly, that Simmons’ performance is the single strongest of the year. He is an absolute sadist – all fire, passion, and condescension in his pursuit of bringing perfection out of his students. The initial sequence when the two first meet in the practice room, where Fletcher hurls both insults and chairs at Neyman, is absolutely brutal and yet magnetic. (“Is it a little too slow? Or too fast?!) The former seems to channel the bark and bite of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman in Full Metal Jacket, and his character appears to continually ask the question: “How far is too far?”
Whereas Black Swan contains some strong fantastical notes in its conclusion, it is Whiplash’s visceral nature that perhaps stays with us most – literally drumming until blood drips from his fingers, tears from his eyes, and blisters open on his hands. Proud and resolute, these two men engage in a battle of wills which does not find its closure until the very final sequence.
#5 Begin Again
Is it an overstatement to say that Begin Again boasts nearly the best final 30 minutes of any film this year? I’ll leave that for you to decide. From my perspective, it’s magnificent. The “bench scene” between Knightley and Levine is among the best written bits of script in a long time. It throbs with authenticity, heartache, discovery, and awakening. It’s as if, if you sit still enough, you can feel the lead character’s narrative arc sweeping around you. She’s finding her voice – an ironic feat in a film all about singing and making a record. Perhaps all of this pales, however, in comparison to the ultimate finish. Here, we’re treated to a song, a juxtaposition of scenes over a falsetto from Levine which would soften the hearts of even the most vociferous “the industry kills true artistry” advocates. (I may or may not be one of those). Congratulations, Adam. I forgot all about Maroon 5 for 4 minutes while you were at the mike. Throw in some not so subtle musical distribution commentary (a la Radiohead and the like, perhaps?), and this is a classic. You need to make this film a part of your future.
#6 Gone Girl
This film was total “must see” material for me, because I so greatly enjoyed the book. Well, I should say, I enjoyed about 97% of the book. I still find the ending of the book to lack something, and I’m sorry to say, that I don’t believe the film does much to fix it. In any case, the real genius move of Gone Girl seems to be nabbing Gillian Flynn (the book’s author) to pen her own screenplay. As such, she very deftly edits her own source material to find the best scenes, dialogues, and characters to bring to life on the big screen. Indeed, probably my greatest reason for recommending this work goes something like: This is one of the most finely adapted books I’ve ever seen on screen. Flynn totally nails it, and her guidance gels expertly with David Fincher’s own steady hand.
Gone Girl is rightly lauded for the strength of its actors’ performances, probably none more so than Rosamund Pike. Though she certainly did a lot to prepare for the rolephysically, in my humble opinion it is really Carrie Coon who shines here. ‘Go’s character in the book acts as humorous foil and sounding board for Nick Dunne’s (Affleck) true feelings about what he is experiencing as the investigation proceeds. But Coon gives her still something more on top of the one-liners and petulance, namely a quiet humanity, a sincere disquiet about her brother’s future. She is riveting.
In closing, I would just highlight one phenomenal sequence (those who’ve seen it will recall it immediately): the conclusion of the relationship between Desi Collings (Neil Patrick Harris) and Amy Dunne (Pike). Wow. So intense. Spoilers aside, we’re finally treated to the primitive, animalistic nature of our supposed heroine. Feel free to scratch your head at the conclusion of this one (I did…twice), but the journey there will be well worth your time.
#7 Blue Ruin | Cold July | Mystery Road
Man, it is so completely unfair for me to do this. Pretty much the height of douchebaggery, I’m aware. You can’t have a top ten list with 12 films, you say. I know! You’re right. But, I can’t recommend either of these three individually as one of the best of the year, and yet they do share a sort of genre consistency in their Southern gothic, neo-noir natures. (Yes, I’m aware Mystery Road was set and shot in Australia). Of the three, Blue Ruin comes the closest to a top-ten nom for me. This is not simply because it was shot on a shoe-string budget which ran little more than a pair of Jordan’s. A budget which I must say is all the more impressive because it arose from crowdsourcing in a Kickstarter campaign. Nah, the film itself is fabulous too. Its plot simmers and sustains tension like that of the strings on a finely-tuned Stradivarius. At any moment we expect the wires to snap, and the finale does not disappoint.
Cold in July has a terrific conclusion in its own right, though the film does grow a little sluggish in its middle third. I just think it’s worth watching to love on the exquisite Don Johnson cameo, as he casts aside both his Miami Vice and Nash Bridges personas with equal abandon, in favor of a sarcastic, steel-toed Southern gunslinger. This is the weakest of the three, but still worth your time if you enjoy the genre.
All things considered, Mystery Road is the best of the triumvirate. It takes
the noir elements and blends them with all the genre trappings of an old Western. Aaron Pedersen is SOOOO good in the lead role. To keep things brief (and avoid spoilers), I’ll just say this: There. Is. A. Shootout. It’s just about better than any of the ones in all of Eastwood’s Man With No Name trilogy combined. ‘Nuff said?
#8 Dawn of the Planet of the Apes
I’m painfully aware that I may be drawing strong guffaws for not including Guardians of the Galaxy on this list. This review of Dawn will serve as good a place as any to note my love and appreciation for both of these films. Honestly, I would be totally fine with puttingGuardians on my year-end list. It fully scratched my childhood love of Star Wars itch, contains exceptional characters, expert costumes, and delightfully adolescent humor to boot. The trouble is that Dawn of the Planet of the Apes nails all those things as well, but perhaps in service of a more serious and precautionary tale.
I still recall the very first time I watched the original Planet of the Apes with my father on vacation somewhere around my middle school years. Charleton Heston in full star form. The conclusion – the beach, the destroyed Statue of Liberty head on its side, Heston’s screams (sorry if I’m spoiling this for anyone). It just seemed to be so time-bound and powerfully of the moment, that I couldn’t ever imagine a successful sequel series arising so many years later. Indeed, the original series nearly proved this in its own right. While some of the original sequels were good films on their own, others were barely watchable (I’ll leave you sci-fi heads to sort the two).
Yet, here we are two films in, after the disastrous original Apes rehash with Marky Mark, and these just keep rolling right along. In fact, the films are getting STRONGER. Caesar’s character is not only an extreme feat of technical virtuosity; he’s also a genuinely sympathetic protagonist. If the striking effects are not enough for you, the emotional resonance of the characters will likely win the day. Two of the film’s most central relationships flesh this out more fully: Between Caesar and the human Malcolm, we find friendship, trust, goodwill, and the desire to work together to rebuild a broken world. Alternatively, the cruel ape Koba’s connection to Caesar is marred by power-grabbing and mistrust. While the former’s actions are somewhat understandable in light of his suffered abuses in the first film, he remains entirely destructive in his efforts to thwart any lasting peace between human and ape. These two relationships have many powerful antecedents in the history of film and literature, and it is perhaps the way these interactions play out which makes Dawn such a convincing pick for me.
#9 Fury
Are there better WWII films than this one? Undoubtedly. So why not roll with American Sniper here? Well let’s head that argument off at the pass. I have it on good authority from my sister that the Sniper book is VASTLY superior to the film. It’s more episodic, and therefore realistic. Its drama arises more naturalistically from the day-to-day reports on and off the “field of battle,” rather than trying to wring suspense and tension from some mano y mano snipefest between two men on opposing sides of the war. To be honest, I really don’t get the hype over the film here. Save yourself $10 and reserve The Hurt Locker 10 consecutive nights at your nearest Redbox. Sure, Cooper probably convinced me he has some real chops in his transformation here – put on the weight, then muscle up, grow a nice beard, adopt the Southern drawl, and then tone yourself down to not overact in key moments. I buy it, and he works it well here. But, I find little else to put it “a cut above.” Other 9/11 era films nail PTSD more convincingly. Still others are just as credible about life “on the front lines.” Just saying.
Returning to Fury, I suppose many of the same arguments can be made. It’s not the best of its genre by any means, but it does have the audacity to push a fresh take on a war we thought we’d explored from every possible angle. In this case, it is life inside the overstuffed interior of a Sherman tank behind enemy lines. Ayer’s penchant for exceptional dialogue (on full display in End of Watch, for instance) gives the viewer the royal treatment of getting to know five full-orbed characters in all their humanity.
Specifically, Pitt’s Wardaddy is a grizzled vet who takes the newbie, Logan Lerman’s Ellison, under his wing, as he gradually accepts what he’s become in the course of this war. Still, in an apparently personally life-altering performance (see his post-film claims to newfound faith), perhaps it’s Shia LaBeouf’s exuberant Bible-quoting youthfulness that rises to the top. Due to the closed insular nature of shots inside the tank, we almost feel like we know these guys as friends by the end of the (tank’s) ride. This is what makes the final sequence all the more gripping and moving.
Finally, the action is great here (as it should be in any war film). Especially memorable is an extended sequence where Wardaddy’s (Pitt) tank does battle with a German tank across an open field. The finale is also distinctive and moving, as the men make their own stand in a modern recapitulation of the ancient Horatius at the Bridge legend (dust off your history books, folks!). The film could rightly be criticized for its unrelenting nature and overlong runtime. But, against all odds, the men at its core stand together.
#10 Snowpiercer
Snowpiercer gets this year’s award for most original idea for a film. I think that honor should really stand for something in our age of sequel-happy, regurgitated mediocrity being produced and peddled by most of the major studios these days. Piercer grabbed me almost immediately on several levels. How about the global warming conscious plotline of a world gone frozen after an attempt to control Earth’s temps through a new gas goes sour? Or, what about all the class distinctions and warfare that arise aboard the train, which acts as a microcosm of society as a whole? Fans of history and political philosophy alike will be intrigued by the way this story unfolds (there’s more than a little Marxist proletariat vs. the masses comparisons therein). Though relegated to eating horrible food in horrendous conditions in the tail section of the train, the common men and women will soon rise up! So, our story is born.
Besides these things, the film boasts some really terrific action sequences, as the tail-enders make their inevitable journey towards the front. It also has some great set designs as we move through each section of the train in its growing opulence and encounter kids’ classrooms, drug dens, relaxing spas, greenhouses, sauna rooms, and sushi bars of all things. Overseeing it all, and acting as the actual face of the man behind the curtain, is the villainous Mason. The fake teeth, bug-eyed glasses, and speaking impediment so transformed Tilda Swinton that even longtime haters (this guy!) of her roles couldn’t help but dig it. It’s an action movie for action lovers, thinking movie for thinkers, and underdog film for all those relegated to the margins. And it’s instant!
#11 The Grand Budapest Hotel
It seems to me like people’s opinions of Wes Anderson films seem to fall into 4 major categories, with various smaller iterations: 1) So idiosyncratic I don’t get it, nor do I like any of it, 2) So quirkily human and authentic that I adore all his characters and films, 3) I love early Wes, a la Rushmore and Bottle Rocket. Though possibly inaccessible to the masses, he gets my own family, friends, and what real living is about (Tenebaumsanyone?), 4) Despite my distaste for early Wes, I can’t help but start to like recent Wes with his ability to tell cohesive tales full of humor, wit, and genuine down-to-earth people.
There are of course combo categories as well. For instance, many 2-er’s are also 3-er’s, and early 1’s may find themselves becoming 4’s in the long run. For my own part, I’m about a cross between 1 and 2 turned 4. Eh? I found his early works to be glorious in parts, but very odd in the long run. I absolutely love Royal Tenebaums (as does most of my family, go figure J), but I find him to really be rounding into form as of late – Fantastic Mr. Fox, Moonrise Kingdom, Grand Budapest…solid solid solid.
I set up all these ridiculous distinctions to say this: If you don’t like this film, you’ll probably never like any Anderson films now or ever. It’s possibly his most accessible work by a long shot, though it retains his predilection for goofy, over-the-top characters, humorous jump cuts, and non-traditional storytelling. In essence, it retains the delightful idiosyncrasies of early Wes while basking in the glow of late Wes’s growing ability to spin a fabulous yarn (i.e. great narrative storytelling). If you need any more convincing, I’ll give you two words: Ralph Fiennes. Yikes! Talk about a tour-de-force performance. It’s worth the watch alone to see a character actor like him go for broke and hit comic gold like this. In my eyes, he joins the ill-fated group of comic performances disregarded by the Academy in favor of “real art.” Bull. Methinks all four categories of viewers will appreciate him and this tale.
*Also Rans (Basically just movies I think deserve more notice and mention than they are getting):
*Foreign Films You Should See:
I Saw the Devil
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