FOF Best of 2015
Updated: Nov 2, 2022
Hello hello, good people! It’s that time again. Oscar weekend, red carpets, fashion police, stodgy old Academy members, annoyingly themed parties hosted by people who haven’t watched a one of the films nominated, aaaand…my entirely subjective view of the best films of the year. This year, the Oscars add a fun dose of racial tension, with a nominee list which includes no “people of color.” Ironically, they’ve selected one of the most outspoken “people of color” to ever grace the airwaves to host the thing! So that could get interesting…
Anyway, on to it. Here’s a couple quick disclaimers. You may ask me: Are these the BEST films of the year or merely your favorite? These are my favorite movies of the year, but I’d like to think they have qualities which could put them at the top of the ranks for many people. Even so, I want to say that I did have some sort of “genre awareness,” (could we call it that?) when I constructed the thing. Do the 10 BEST films of the year include a comedy, a horror flick, and an animated yarn for the whole family? Maybe not. But, I think they’re worth checking out nonetheless. Call it the variety hour.
Speaking of diversity, I just want to point out that there are NO foreign films on this list. This is likely a calamity of disastrous proportions on my part. Quite frankly, I have two young kids and a whirlwind of daytime activity on my plate right now. I simply didn’t see any of them. You’ll have to forgive the oversight and my dastardly ethnocentrism. Certainly, from the pundits, Son of Saul seems worthy of all of our attention.
Finally, this bad boy is LONG. Be forewarned. I’ll understand if you go skimming through it. But hey, I only do this ONCE a year. (Also, if you don’t want me to tag you in future lists, just let me know. I won’t be offended. Much.)
Without further ado…
#1 Me and Earl and the Dying Girl
Let’s go ahead and rip the Band-Aid right off – this was my absolute FAVORITE film of the year. Huuuuuuh??! It was freaking criminally underappreciated in the awards circuit, despite the fact that it took home both the Grand Jury and Audience awards at Sundance. There’s probably a host of reasons for you not to like this one: a film title which could only be that clunky and obtuse by design, another dark YA novel turned visual tearjerker, that whole Sundance-y-indie paint-by-numbers vibe, the approximately 2.7 people who went to see it, and, oh yeah, the director being a relative unknown. That’s just to name a few.
But, for me, this one just hit all the right notes. For starters, the film is soundtracked almost exclusively by two of my favorite Brian Eno records (more on this in a second) – Here Come the Warm Jets and Another Green World. Moreover, its ideal viewer appears to be not only one interested in those ever-present themes of death and friendship, but also the self-proclaimed cinephile – the movie fanatic. Me and Earl comes at those things in ridiculously inventive ways.
The inciting incident in this drama is set in motion by Greg’s (the protagonist) mother. She insists, despite her son’s blaring protests, that he begin hanging out with a classmate who has leukemia. Greg, a self-proclaimed loner who has perfected the art of maintaining fringe acquaintances with every social sub-strata in high school, spends his days making spoof films with his longtime pal, Earl. Their formula is simple, and one doomed to failure – they take the titles of famous, universally lauded films and change them into something comical. Then they use home camcorders, sock puppets, props, and a host of other things to bring hysterical results. So, in the course of the movie, we get titles like: A Sock Work Orange, Eyes Wide Butt, Senior Citizen Cane, and Pooping Tom. Unless your heart is pre-Cindy Lou Who Grinch, you’ll laugh as much as you’ll cry in this one.
I could go into the plot of the film in more detail. But, you could do a Google search and get far more intricate, more well-written material of that kind at any time. Truthfully, the music and home films just totally hooked me here. About 5 years ago, I made a personal goal to watch the Top 100 AFI film list, Oscar Best Picture list, and the Sight and Sound decade lists in their entirety. After completing these, I set to work on the USC Film School list. So, while many may not recognize “400 Bows” (from Truffaut’s harrowing 400 Blows) or another French New Wave gem Breathe Less (from Godard’s Breathless), or “Ate ½ (of my lunch)” from Fellini’s 8 ½ (which is one of my ten favorite films…EVER), for me it was like a homecoming to my old friends. Furthermore, there is Scorsese references all over the place – from Greg’s T-shirt to his wall posters to “Grumpy Cul-de-Sacs” (instead of Mean Streets). The list goes on and on. Bergman, Coppola, Kurosawa, Kuprick, Hitchcock. It plays like a Hugo for adults. Total homage to the golden screen, with subtle brilliant references popping up everywhere you look.
Finally, I can’t leave this film behind without putting one more matter to rest. The comparisons between Me and Earl and Fault in Our Stars from last year are obvious and manifold. Space forbids a full exposition on that matter here. Instead, I would like to argue that Me and Earl is a VASTLY superior film. Let’s return to the story quickly…eventually, it is suggested to Greg by a crush, no less, that he and Earl make a film for Rachel (the dying girl). The culmination of this painstaking process for Greg is one of the more powerful denouements in recent memory.
Without presenting spoilers, I would say it is at this point that Me and Earl curbstomps Fault completely. The latter attempts to wrest liquid from our tear ducts at every turn by presenting its own earnestness and then commenting on that very earnestness ad nauseum. Each plot strand in the final half hour feels staged for maximal gush impact, including reading funeral letters to people still alive, and the like. By vast contrast, Me and Earl proceeds more like reality, with highs and lows, belly laughs and gut-wrenching weeping, walking side by side in this messy, beautiful hilarity we call life. This all comes to a head in the climactic scene, which plays almost entirely wordlessly to Eno’s “The Big Ship.” The grief you’ll see presented at that moment, one which would render anyone ineloquent, is as authentic as it gets. In saying nothing, Greg says everything to Rachel, and to us by extension.
#2 Mad Max - Fury Road
Here’s a total kneejerk change of direction. From Me and Earl to…Mad Max? Yikes! We’ve got work to do. Listen folks, if I had to construct a thesis for this bad boy, it would read as follows: they just don’t make movies like this anymore. You know the kind I’m talking about, don’t you? Think Die Hard; or, sub in any of your other go-for-broke action flicks, with seemingly untouchable stars, off-the-cuff one-liners, enormous set pieces, gut-punching visceral action for days, and a plotline thinner than a runway model. Indeed, I think it’s that last one that causes me to say “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.” Oh there are plenty of action movies without plotlines nowadays. See The Last Witch Hunter with perhaps the greatest miscast in history – Vin Diesel – for the latest example in that line of travesty. Or, just stab yourself in the eye repeatedly with a copy of any Steven Seagal film, excepting Under Siege, of course. Whichever you think would be best.
Conversely, they make super-intelligent thrillers, with astute psychological analysis of the killer or adversary all the time today. In fact, these seem to be the order of the day. Bad guys are never just bad anymore. Someone pushed them down at recess when they were 7. (Please be aware I’m adopting a certain action-movie loving, Tim Taylor “Oh ho ho” persona right now deliberately). Well, in this movie, bad is just bad. Violence is just violence. And, yes, the plot is rail thin. Put another way, you could represent this film quite easily in terms of simple geometry. Grab a piece of paper and a pencil. Start somewhere, anywhere, and draw a line segment of a desired length. Then, stop, turn your pencil around and draw a line segment back to the start. You just represented the two halves of Mad Max: Fury Road. My congratulations.
Plenty of movies today contain enormous budgets and skinny plotlines. FEW movies today contain those things and are this darn riveting. This freaking good. Plenty of movies today contain loads of CGI, special effects, and other computer-generated tricks and gadgets. Almost none have all that and look this REAL. I usually hammer films that falter on their setup. Believe me, there is certainly some exposition which could help us along in the beginning of this film too. There are all kinds of different divisions and classes of humanity hardly introduced with more than a few cursory phrases. Even so, I can’t help but give the dialogue and story a pass. I imagine it’s a bit like trying to have a conversation over tea behind the engine of a 747 – all bluster and noise, plenty of lip movement, and little comprehension of what the hell anyone is really saying.
For the film, a perhaps wizened, now 70 year old George Miller climbed back into the director’s chair. The movie bears the name of its predecessor from ’79, which starred Mel Gibson in his real career-making role. But, let’s make no bones about it – this one is much more akin to the sequel Road Warrior than the name to which it pays tribute. To say the same thing yet ONE more time in a different way, dialogue here hardly furthers the story along its way. No, it’s more like momentary filler between one breathtaking chase sequence and the next which will follow. Start the timer when the words begin, like a rest period between your latest HIIT workout, and see if you can actually catch your breath before the machines get rolling again.
#3 Spotlight
So I just took a short break and the wife read my first two reviews. She then wondered aloud, “Do you think if your write-ups are too long not a lot of people will read them?” So there you go! Time to shorten things up a bit. Hmm ok…given that the first two films were my favorites of the year, perhaps it’s fair to say these will be more succinct. What you need to know about Spotlight can be summed up in just one word – screenplay. Here’s another…dialogue. Spotlight is the very antithesis of Mad Max in this way. It is two plus hours of nothing but talking. No sex. No violence. Hardly a character who raises his voice. Yet, the film zips by, is fully engrossing, and actually builds genuine tension and suspense simply through the use of words. That kind of achievement in writing is absolutely remarkable to me.
This is the kind of film where SO much IS said, and yet we want more. We feel as if we are only getting the surface layer of each convo. The words bore into us and, consequently, we desire to bore into the character’s worlds ever deeper. Spotlight does not attempt to humanize the perpetrators of pedophilia and abuse. Instead, it lays the issue bare before us and allows us to draw our own conclusions. It tells the story from all sides, from those of the victims, perpetrators, leaders, con artists, cover up officials, lawyers, and experts studying the field. It has a very quasi-documentary feel in this sense.
Indeed, there’s a sort of “meta” thing going on as the story progresses. In depicting a core journalistic team vigilant and obsessed with the pursuit of the truth and the freedom to tell it, the movie begins to take shape as a grander archetype on the incalculable value of the freedom of the press. What a sorely needed reminder of how revelatory and transformational REAL research and knowledge can be when it’s unsullied by big bucks, agenda-driven networks, and the “sexy story.” (I won’t deny the Globe has agendas of its own). You may end up disagreeing, but at least the film is smart enough to raise the questions.
Finally, it is Oscar Sunday after all, and so I cannot miss an opportunity to talk about Mark Ruffalo’s work here. The entire cast and acting is top notch all the way, but, to my mind, Ruffalo stands above the rest. He imbues his character with such human idiosyncrasies, in the ticks and movements of his face and body, his unique style of speech, and much more. By way of example, there is a scene in the film about 2/3 of the way through, where Ruffalo stands on McAdams porch, and the two talk intimately. The entire hue of their conversation is different from all of the procedural dialogue and movement which went before. Ruffalo’s character finally stops, and like us, begins to feel the full weight of the story they are trying to birth to the world. His portrayal of that moment, that internal struggle to find sense in the senseless, is breathtaking. I mean no disrespect to Stallone (who was fantastic again in Creed) or Hardy’s gritty, despicable Fitzgerald in The Revenant, but I think this should be Ruffalo’s statue to lose. Sadly, it will not likely be so.
#4 The Big Short
Quickly, let’s play six degrees of separation: name three other films which were directed by Adam McKay besides The Big Short. Did you guess Anchorman, …Ricky Bobby, and The Other Guys? No? Well, that’s the truth. I think it’s crucial, in fact, that we establish this before we analyze the movie. The Big Short is many things, but perhaps it is above all HILARIOUS. The topic at hand, namely the untold story of the few men who bet against the financial system and struck gold in the wake of the 2008 housing collapse, is potentially rife with cynicism and distaste. Indeed, the subject actually DEMANDS gobs of acerbic wit and industry criticism. Still, McKay was the perfect man for the job, because he could so deftly juxtapose the vitriol, utter contempt, and complications surrounding this subject with consistently brilliant, biting humor.
The acting is top notch here (though I still can’t fathom how Bale gets the nomination over Carell), but it’s the writing that really wins the day. McKay and co-writer Charles Randolph’s attention to detail is truly something to behold. The issue demands that the writers move dexterously between insider financial, specifically banking, market jargon and laymen’s terms for the everyday person on the street. This the film rather adroitly accomplishes by using aside cameos featuring famous names in hysterical settings to explain matters to us. In such ways, we learn what CDO’s are, what makes loans subprime, about adjustable rate mortgages, tranches, and the difference between AAA and BBB loans from the likes of Margot Robbie in a bubble bath and Selena Gomez at blackjack table. At other times, the character speaking simply breaks the fourth wall and tells us directly what is happening. Or, more shockingly, they frankly announce to us that the coming sequence happened exactly that way in real life.
Anyway you “slice” it (anyone pick up the tranch analogy there? Huh? Huh?! J), The Big Short is a scathingly uproarious indictment of the true villains in this matter. Its conclusion is as powerful as the go-for-broke scenes which preceded it. Carell, offering the conscience barometer for the whole crew, presents us with what’s left in the wake of collapse. The picture is wholly serious, bitter as bile, and quietly devastating. For sure, there is wealth aplenty to go around for those smart enough to bet against the market they serve, but the riches come at what cost?
*If you liked this: 99 Homes
Also, a great film. To put it simply, one film shows all the smart guys who got rich off the banks’ irresponsible lending. The other shows the actual real life people who accepted the loans, whose homes were eventually lost to foreclosure. It is the tale of a man who loses his home, and in desperation to get it back, joins a shark who evicts people onto the streets.
#5 Brooklyn
I’m not gonna lie to you – you’ve seen this story before. You can spot the narrative arcs, the clichés, the tenderest of moments from miles away. Yet, I wonder how long it’s been since you’ve seen one this well done. One so poignantly and passionately acted, so homegrown and authentic. You can play the label the movie game and come up with plenty: chronicle of youth coming of age, minority struggle for survival in a new city, homesickness and the fight to find whole-heartedness in the midst of separate worlds an ocean apart, love triangles, or, more euphemistically, the eternal struggle of whether to settle for what’s comfortable or branch out into new horizons. Yes, you may have guessed, I’m talking about the Italian vs. the Irish suitor on that last one.
Were it not for Brie Larson’s haunting portrayal of a young mother in captivity in Room, I would make strong arguments for Saoirse Ronan’s award worthiness in this film. She is simply fantastic. Her character is well-written and powerfully acted, humble, grounded, and slowly gaining confidence in her ability to find her way in this world. In truth, we can witness the entire arc of the story in her manner of speaking and facial expressions.
To be perfectly honest, I debated whether to really add this one to my list. Certainly, Room was a film with many firsts and such gripping moments. In Brooklyn, there’s nothing fantastically eye-popping. It doesn’t flash and pop with glitz and glam like some Baz Luhrmann production. It just matter-of-factly tells a beautiful, human love story, with all the nuance and complexity that that word implies. It’s nice, and sadly rare, to get a gorgeous love story without all the bells and whistles in our time. This is probably the best date night movie of the year, folks.
*If you liked this: Far From the Madding Crowd
Another criminally underrated film from this year, Far also boasts a powerful female performance in a coming of age tale. Based on the novel from Thomas Hardy (no, not the Aussie actor all over the big screen today, the author of Tess of the d’Urbervilles), this is likely the second best date movie of the year.
#6 Ex Machina
Plenty of adjectives could be used to describe Ex Machina – eerie, haunting, claustrophic, mind-bending. All are apt, and all convey a portion of this deceptively simple sci-fi yarn. At its core, the film is simply four characters (three primarily) in a secluded estate. The setting is intimate and the budget small. These truths, however, belie the big ideas at the heart of the narrative.
The catalyst for this story is a competition which is initiated by the CEO of a massive internet-search giant. One programmer in the company wins, and as a reward, gets to spend a week at the private estate of the reclusive, aforementioned CEO. Let’s pause here for a moment. The estate is like plush European style…something. I’m not Mr. Feng Shui. All I know is the building has like a Bond villain vibe all over it. Nathan, the CEO, played brilliantly by Oscar Isaacs, has a restlessly inventive mind, drinks like a fish, and pumps iron everyday. Caleb, the programmer who wins, also exceptionally played by Domnhall Gleason, is by way of contrast timid, unsure, yet also brilliant.
Once the programmer arrives at the estate, he soon learns that though he was brought there under the auspices of a competition’s award, Nathan has altogether different plans for him. He is, rather, to take place in a human Turing Test to determine whether an A.I. created by Nathan is complete. Complete, in this sense, meaning fully capable and conscious enough to respond just as a human being would. Thus begins what proved to be my favorite element of the film, namely that behind all the sci-fi clichés and terminology, what we really have here is a play. A stage play, in fact. A series of vignettes between the programmer and the machine, the latter depicted effortlessly by new star Alicia Vikander.
This is a cat and mouse game if there ever is one. As the two “learn” more about each other, care and concern is born in them. Their growing mutual affection stands in stark contrast to the increasingly alienating presence of Nathan. While avoiding spoilers, suffice it to say that Nathan may not prove to be just as he says he is. The same could be said for Caleb and for Ava (the robot). So, we watch the game of constant one-upmanship pass between the players as a growing sense of dread descending on the whole affair. It is a love triangle of the sort I never expected to enjoy. It has elements of creator and subject and myriad questions about humanity. What’s it mean to be human? Of what are humans fully capable? As we delve into this compacted world of treachery, deceit, and yes, love, maybe some answers will emerge.
#7 Inside Out
Is it just me, or have animated films completely changed over the last, say, 15 years? Yeah, I know about the technological advances – birth of Pixar, 3D-animation, bytes and pixels, yaddy yaddy yada. That’s not what I mean. It seems to me that when I was a kid, cartoons were made primarily for kids. They told stories containing kids, were voiced by kids, presented kid laughs, and held just enough strands of maturity to keep adults from holding their breaths until blackout. Earlier this year, I watched the Peanuts movie with my kids. (Well, Emma watched it. Caleb oscillated between watching it, Kindling Adele’s Hello, and jamming along to Caillou. Why does that dude have no hair?!!) Anyway, I was struck by something intangible during the course of the film which lingered with me afterwards. It took me hours to figure out what it was. When I finally did, it was eye-opening. The movie actually stuck to the wonderful world of innocence and naivety created by a neighborhood of kids interacting and growing up together. In other words, it brought the sweetness of Charles Schulz’ decades long universe to the screen in three dimensions, but it resisted the urge to transform it into something new.
By contrast, I think most animated films are actually heading in the opposite direction. Cartoons are now for adults just as much as kids (see Spike’s Adult Swim), though they contain enough of the cute trappings to keep kids glued to the screen. I’d say the trend started with Shrek, which if you think hard enough about a few of the sequels’ gags, could be downright scandalous to young ears. New films like these are littered with cultural references, social memes and idioms, and contain very adult-like payoffs. To my knowledge, Inside Out seems like the quintessential example of this emerging trend.
To that end, the plot of this film is essentially Psychology 101. Dudes like Paul Ekman argued that there are six basic emotions, meaning ones that are universally recognized in cultures all over the world. We’re hardwired for these things: anger, joy, sadness, disgust, fear. Some psychologists add ones like surprise or contempt, but I’ll let you sort through that research. The point is that these are precisely the characters of this film, all residing inside of Riley’s head. Moreover, it’s voiced by some of the top adult comedians working today. Though they all begin inside “Headquarters,” the control center of Riley’s mind, Joy and Sadness are soon cast out into all the creative nether regions of Riley’s brain (also chock full of psychological allusions – Long Term Memory, Abstract Thought, Subconscious to name a few). They need to find their way back home, and in so doing help Riley adjust to her nascent adolescence in a new school, town, and neighborhood.
The film is simply gorgeously animated and well-written. It beautifully depicts the triumphs and tragedies of growing up through changes, and how, more importantly, some of our greatest memories are an amalgam of joy and sadness. And who can forget Bing Bong, her imaginary friend? The dude cries candy for goodness sake! He’s all heart on his sleeve kindness, and in following his lead, Inside Out wins our hearts over too.
#8 The End of the Tour
Is David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest the essential primer to hipsterdom? Is it like a necessary infusion into the literati’s bloodstream? I don’t know. I’m sad to say that I’ve not yet had the pleasure of cracking open any of its 1100 or so pages. Thanks to this movie, however, I feel I know the author a good deal better than I did before. At its heart, End of the Tour is really a road movie. Two men at a crossroads joining together, traveling long distances, becoming acquainted with all the particulars of their respective lives, and leaving the experience changed. End is definitely this, but I would contend that it is decidedly more as well.
The film portrays the weeklong journey which took place in 1996, between Rolling Stone reporter David Lipsky and David Foster Wallace, just after the publication of his monumental novel. Interestingly enough, the words of the interviews were never officially written down. Instead, Lipsky made audio tapes of his talk with Wallace over the course of those 5 days. When he left, he kept the tapes, though he never saw Wallace again. The movie is based on the memoir Lipsky wrote about those tapes after Wallace’s suicide in 2008.
Apparently, I’m on a talky kick with all of my selections from this year. Yet again, this movie is almost wholly dialogue, but it is exchanges of words of the most heady, insightful, and erudite kind. Truthfully, Lipsky and Wallace are like two prize fighters throughout this thing, feeling each other out, deciding where to pounce. It’s never clear if either is being completely truthful with the other. It’s a phenomenal example in the long line of the “So much was said but SOOOO much was left unsaid” kind of movies.
In the course of the interviews, each man’s frailties come peeking through, even as they attempt to mask them. Lipsky has been published, but only a few times and even then to little acclaim. He’s constantly swallowing the bile of jealousy and envy which threatens to rise inside of him at the immense gravitational pull that Wallace seems to effortlessly create in his own universe. As these themes develop, a naked rivalry is born. In short, it is a tirelessly working minor writer being forced to walk in the shadow of a seemingly lethargic giant.
But Wallace, for his own part, is no man of perfection. Throughout the discourse, the dark spots on his past come into focus – alcoholism and drug abuse, the suicide attempts, an obsession with television, and the inability to maintain long-term human relationships. Furthermore, Wallace seems obsessed with curating a particular version of himself being presented to the world by Lipsky, in contradistinction to the man he actually IS.
So, as I said, road movie – yes. But one with colossal themes of identity, accomplishment, and the significance and meaningfulness of our own art. We would be remiss if we did not grab a hold of this beautiful tale.
#9 It Follows
What’s the oldest horror trope in the book? Anyone? How ‘bout this…every horror movie begins with two (generally white) people having sex? Or, its corollary: Whenever two people do the horizontal polka, they aren’t gonna be around too much longer. Well, in true tongue-in-cheek fashion, David Robert Mitchell begins It Follows with this premise and expands it into one of the more genuinely freaky flicks in years.
The story begins with – you guessed it – our darling protagonist having a good time with a guy in the backseat of his car. Afterwards, instead of being offed, she’s told that she will be followed by a presence determined to kill her. From there, the film takes off like a Lear jet. Let’s relish in the details for a moment. The film is shot using this very unique, menacing dark and blue photography. Moreover, any truly great horror thriller has a dynamite score, and this one is no exception. To this end, Mitchell enlisted a 28 year-old named Rich Vreeland, who goes by the name of Disasterpeace, to craft a “bold, electronic score.” Disasterpeace. Sounds pretty BA, right? Uh huh. Whitest. Dude. Ever. I mean, this cat is like one of Zuckerberg’s classmates at Harvard. Maximalist nerd, minimalist score? Who really knows, but he did previous score work on video games, and everything he does here is frankly chilling.
Let’s be honest for a second. I’m a major scaredy-cat when it comes to these kinds of tales. I almost want to fast forward through the night time scenes to get a reprieve. But, It Follows offers us no such solace. With the shooting and score, I was genuinely creeped out during the broad daylight sequences! I can’t remember the last time that’s happened.
See, if you want to craft the perfect villain, make it ubiquitous and faceless. Make it everyone and no one at the same time. That’s the “it” in this movie. Any person can walk into the scene at any time and start pursuing whoever it’s after. And, the film is a total homage to Carpenter’s Halloween flicks. The nameless faces are never in a hurry. They just saunter along towards their destination. No matter how fast the victims run, they’re always caught! Usually you just have to buy this as one of the preposterous aspects of horror movies. Here, there’s a (quasi?) logical out, namely that the next person in the victim’s vicinity can pick up the chase at any time.
Finally, two more quick things. First, I just love the fact that the only way one can escape the terror is to “pass it on,” aka sleep with someone else and make them the new target. This is just brilliant stuff here. Think about that. The villain is an STD monster! The movie is brimming with dark humor anyway, but this subtle commentary on the dangers of irresponsible sexual expression “takes the cake”! Additionally, there’s nary any blood to be found anywhere! This is like full-on anti-Eli Roth type stuff. The scares are in the pursuers, the unending sense of dread, and inescapable feeling of doom. In the end, It Follows is just an old-fashioned spookfest that forces us to face the age-old inevitability of death, while introducing a new element of terror: Where do we go when we can literally see it coming?
*If you liked this: Unfriended
#10 What We Do In The Shadows
If one were pressed to name the best comedy of the year, it’s likely a few names would rise to the head of the list – Spy, Trainwreck, Pitch Perfect 2, The Martian (sorry, Golden Globe joke). I’m not trying to be a stuck-up elitist right now. I liked several of those movies a great deal, though I could create an even longer catalogue of comedies I didn’t like from this year. Hot Tub Time Machine 2?? Waste. Of. Space. Beyond that, I just thought this one transcended all the other good movies in terms of conception and writing. This movie is like Real World and reality TV meets This is Spinal Tap. It’s all kinds of dry and British. It’s clever, witty, and constantly raucous.
So many people have grown tired of the tireless procession of vampire chronicles over the last decade plus that they just wish it would stop. Still others are reaching out for ever new takes on old tales. WWDITS somehow manages to please both crowds, sending up vampires in the most ludicrous way possible – as a mock documentary by the dudes from Flight of the Conchords. Not only is the concept genius, but there attention to detail is also remarkable. It’s as if they leafed through countless vampire mythologies to pluck out the best artifacts or minutiae and then spun them on their head.
Four vampire roommates with a difference in age ranging over a millennium trying to make it together in today’s world and show a brand new convert how “cool” it is to be undead. What do they do to pass the time? Well, they have formal dinner parties…and then they try to eat the guests. They go out “clubbing,” but they can’t steer clear of the neighborhood werewolf pack. The two sequences of lame insult-passing between the vampires and the werewolves in this movie trail maybe only Monty Python’s Search for the Holy Grail as the very best in this vein. Comic gold. They hynoptize cops investigating neighborhood disturbances, and befriend a computer programmer named Stu who will eventually help them adjust to 21st century living. Need I say more? You’ll likely hear far less about this one than all the other dirgefests parading around as comedies this year. Come on. Just rent it and give it a shot. It’s not like it will bleed you dry.
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