FOF Best of 2016
Oh my goodness, it’s late February again! This could only mean one thing. My Seasonal Affective Disorder has reached its full bloom? No! Well…yes. But, that’s not what I mean. The Oscars are upon us again, and this means that it’s time to raise my “voice” anew. I’ve been warming up the “vocal chords,” and I think I’m now ready to bring it to you – my entirely nonprofessional, likely biased, and completely non-obligatory top ten films of the year list!!! (Please quiet the trumpets).
Who knows what this years’ festivities will bring to us. Apparently, in just one year, #OscarsSoWhite is a thing of the past. But what will come in its place? #OscarsMoreDiverse? #OscarsMultiethnic? #OscarsTrashTrump? I suppose we shall see.
Like last year, methinks a few caveats are in order. Once again, I largely neglected foreign films this year. Sad to say, but it’s true. On the bright side, however, I saw TONS of kids’ movies with my two little ones! Yay! The list will reflect this, as you’ll see, towards the bottom. The only foreign flick I saw was Elle, and while it was very intriguing, it was also decidedly odd. It felt a little long for such a psychosexual genre-bender. Perhaps I just wasn’t French enough.
Anyway, enough of that. I also wish to say that I like to highlight my favorite films of the year, particularly if they are a bit lesser known. I could just bang out a list that reads like the nomination card competition at your Oscars party, but what would be the fun in that? I’ve opted for a teensy bit of variety, and so this inevitably means some phenomenal works from an artistic standpoint will get left out (See: Moonlight).
Without further ado…
#1 Manchester By The Sea
You may have guessed, in a clever bit of deduction, that this is my best picture of the year. Kudos to you, if so. You are correct (more on why La La Land is NOT in a moment). Now, I’m not sure if it says something rather morbid about me that I’ve selected such a “downer” for such a prestigious honor. But, this one hit all the right notes (yes, that’s a jab at the actual musical listed below). It’s so much like real life, it’s scary. By that I mean, well, several things really. First, Manchester is chock full of full-bodied characters who are so well-drawn and so nuanced that they could be your neighbor. Second, though it features big name actors (some doing their career best work), the writing is such that they appear very naturalistic. This is a film stripped of stardom, and beating vibrantly with the rhythms of everyday New England life.
The inciting incident of the drama is the sudden death of Lee Chandler’s brother. After hearing the news, Chandler (played masterfully by Casey Affleck) soon hears something even more surprising – his brother has made him the sole guardian of his nephew Patrick. With that, Affleck is forced to move back to the town he left. It becomes clear to us very early on that he left for good reason, and though the mystery of the “why” behind this remains, we sense the tragedy lurking behind his past decision.
This all comes to a head a little under halfway through the picture when the past is finally revealed to us. (It is obscured from us and divulged over time through a clever plot device of splicing past vignettes amongst the present narrative). The tragedy is absolutely crushing and devastating in the worst ways possible. In a flash, we recognize how the vivacious Lee of the opening credits has become a hollowed out shell of a man, aimlessly fixing apartments in Boston. Here also, we see once again the brilliant flourishes of Kenneth Lonergan’s writing. For the tragedy once revealed doesn’t slow or stall the picture, but instead leads to plumbing new depths of the characters’ lives and motivations. Indeed, Lonergan’s script, alongside Affleck’s performance, is the real jewel of Manchester. It is at once painfully and devastatingly tragic, and yet filled through with wit and downright funny moments. Again, I argue, it is just like life.
I could go on, but I’ll end with a description of one more scene. It is my favorite of the entire film, and likely the one which gained Michelle Williams her latest Oscar nomination. It takes place in the film’s present, long after tragedy has befell the characters’ lives. Many films, it seems, and actors too acquire their Oscar hardware from that one big scene, that one tremendous monologue. That one…Oscar moment. And, if this film were going to have one, this would surely be it, as at long last the estranged couple comes face to face once again. What happens instead? There is emotion aplenty, to be sure, but not of the grand, shouting and pontificating kind. Rather, it is two deeply human individuals trying to grapple with the massive weight of loss and to find the right words to apologize, or reconcile, and find the strength to continue. In this way, the scene functions like an anti-Oscar moment. It is to those enormous, emotive scenes not unlike what the negative is to a Polaroid. This is the genius of Lonergan – an uncanny ability to explore love, loss, and the peculiarities of human connection without the fanfare of more grandiose pictures, but rather through his own beautifully realized, muted aesthetic.
#2 La La Land
I do not know what there really is to write about this film that hasn’t already been said. It’s likely going to win Best Picture and a slew of other honors (it’s already blitzkrieg-ed the rest of the awards circuit). Though I have little problem with this, because of its technical virtuosity, I can say that it will not be my top film of the year. More on that in a moment.
If you are looking for that ethereal quality known as “movie magic,” La La Land has it in spades. Nearly everything in the entire production works. Yet, for such a magical affair, the writing is actually very grounded and true to life. The actors’ performances are as realistic as they are fantastical. In this very unique and sort of unprecedented way, we have a musical which is very reminiscent of the past – i.e. Singing in the Rain, An American in Paris, and the like – and extremely of the moment. In so doing, La La is equal parts Rogers & Astaire and your everyday working, dual-income American couple trying to chase their dreams. The opening sequence of dozens of actors dancing on their cars at the 105/110 interchange in one grand, choreographed affair is a prime example of the former. (It is also a hilarious, insider LA travel joke if I’ve ever seen one). Even more notably, the 10 minute, huge soundstage montage near the conclusion of the film appears to pay direct homage to the towering musicals of the past.
Conversely, the incredibly well-written dinner conversation between Stone and Gosling (which functions as their first fight as a couple), is the example par excellence of the kind of gritty, real life dialogue which form the bedrock of the best dramas of today. Even the costumes and mise-en-scene point to this duality. Their attire looks ageless, but everyone at the party drives a Prius. Gosling considers himself a serious jazz musician, often citing the greats, yet he meets Mia again at a party playing 80’s covers “Take On Me” and Flock of Seagulls “I Ran.” Stone’s character works at a coffeeshop that looks an awful lot like Fivebucks (my name for that company that started in Seattle). I could go on, but I’ll spare you.
Another scene is deserving of note as well. I’m talking about that one EVERYONE will remember if they’ve seen the film. It’s the uninterrupted, near 6 minute dance sequence atop Griffiths Park overlooking Burbank. The crew and the actors shot the entire scene just four times (remember, it’s a single take) at the so-called “magic hour” – that short period of time when the light softens as the sun disappears below the horizon. This scene…oh man, this scene! The singing is great; the dancing is better! It’s everything a musical should be, and it is so impressively choreographed. Their banter, wit, and seeming ease of motion almost make this worth the cost of admission all on its own.
Beyond that, let’s talk tunes. This is a musical after all, and no musical works without great songs. Fortunately, here also La La does not disappoint. “City of Stars” should and likely will win the Oscar for best song. “Audition (The Fools Who Dream)” (also nominated) and bigger dance numbers like “A Lovely Night” show up at every plot turn. But best of all is the wordless piano piece “Sebastian’s Theme,” which first draws Mia’s attention and later serves as a musical etude for the couple’s entire relationship.
So, if all of this is so grand, why not crown it best picture? For me, the answers lies in the final act of the film. I will not get into the details and plot machinations therein, as this would offer big spoilers. Suffice it to say that I did not like the turn of trajectory that Chazelle took for his film’s ending. I thought it was wrong-headed and against the spirit of the entire picture. Further, even if I embraced the line of thinking the director was surely going for, I then disagree with some of the ways he played it out (again I’m speaking in code for those who haven’t seen it). It’s a bit too difficult to get into here. If you want my honest thoughts about the ending, you can hit me up personally later. Or, who knows, maybe I’ll write that up in the near future. In any case, La La Land ultimately rightly deserves all the attention it has already and will continue to garner for its incredibly unique way of grappling with those universal themes of love, partnership, vocation, dreams, individuality, and the freedom to pursue our own destiny.
#3 Hell Or High Water
There is something about that first great movie of the year which just jumps up and grabs you, isn’t there? Hell or High Water was that for me. It’s tough to know what to call this one, because many labels depict a portion of the whole. A thriller? Heist flick? Contemporary Western? (i.e. replace horses with pickups). Character study? Slow-simmering Southern potboiler? The answer for each is…eh, a little bit. Let’s be clear: Hell or High Water does not really DO anything new. Southern bank robbers looking to stiff the man and shake the law is nothing groundbreaking. Nor is sibling love, or the archetype of the wizened ole’ ranger on the cusp of retirement, taking on one last case because he just can’t quit taking out ‘dem bad guys.
So, why is it great? Well, it’s the unique combination of these factors which give Hell or High Water its particular flair. For starters, the film is fantastically paced. So much so that if you were looking for a shoot ‘em up, you would have found it to be downright slow. Sure it’s a thriller and a bank heist yarn, but it’s primarily a character study, and as such, we uniquely get to see robbers, sheriffs and the like painted with fine brushes instead of those grand sweeping strokes which are all too common in these types of pictures. We get into the heads of the characters – their motives, their pasts, their unique drives. In so doing, the lines between good and evil begin to blur.
The brothers are just trying to get back what they feel was stolen from them in the first place, and the bank network itself even has a dastardly, conniving role in the affairs. Beyond the characterization and pacing, this film has LOADS of tension. The best analogy I can muster comes from the world of sound. It’s that faint, high-pitched buzzing sound which starts really low. It’s imperceptible at first, but because of its continual presence, we begin to make it out. Then the sound slowly and steadily gets a bit louder and again louder until it’s become a downright searing squeal which consumes our entire attention. It’s moved seamlessly from background to foreground. Hell or High Water plays just like this, and so when the gunplay finally does come to bear in the third act, it takes on a monumental significance.
Finally, a quick kudos goes to the writer and director of this one for the great, non-theatrical, and realistic ending of this tale. The final conversation, for which I will give no spoilers, is frank, direct, and even carries forward some of the tension built and released in the third act. This porch convo and all that proceeds it make Hell or High Water well worth your time.
#4 The Lobster
There is something about that first great movie of the year which just jumps up and grabs you, isn’t there? Hell or High Water was that for me. It’s tough to know what to call this one, because many labels depict a portion of the whole. A thriller? Heist flick? Contemporary Western? (i.e. replace horses with pickups). Character study? Slow-simmering Southern potboiler? The answer for each is…eh, a little bit. Let’s be clear: Hell or High Water does not really DO anything new. Southern bank robbers looking to stiff the man and shake the law is nothing groundbreaking. Nor is sibling love, or the archetype of the wizened ole’ ranger on the cusp of retirement, taking on one last case because he just can’t quit taking out ‘dem bad guys.
So, why is it great? Well, it’s the unique combination of these factors which give Hell or High Water its particular flair. For starters, the film is fantastically paced. So much so that if you were looking for a shoot ‘em up, you would have found it to be downright slow. Sure it’s a thriller and a bank heist yarn, but it’s primarily a character study, and as such, we uniquely get to see robbers, sheriffs and the like painted with fine brushes instead of those grand sweeping strokes which are all too common in these types of pictures. We get into the heads of the characters – their motives, their pasts, their unique drives. In so doing, the lines between good and evil begin to blur.
The brothers are just trying to get back what they feel was stolen from them in the first place, and the bank network itself even has a dastardly, conniving role in the affairs. Beyond the characterization and pacing, this film has LOADS of tension. The best analogy I can muster comes from the world of sound. It’s that faint, high-pitched buzzing sound which starts really low. It’s imperceptible at first, but because of its continual presence, we begin to make it out. Then the sound slowly and steadily gets a bit louder and again louder until it’s become a downright searing squeal which consumes our entire attention. It’s moved seamlessly from background to foreground. Hell or High Water plays just like this, and so when the gunplay finally does come to bear in the third act, it takes on a monumental significance.
Finally, a quick kudos goes to the writer and director of this one for the great, non-theatrical, and realistic ending of this tale. The final conversation, for which I will give no spoilers, is frank, direct, and even carries forward some of the tension built and released in the third act. This porch convo and all that proceeds it make Hell or High Water well worth your time.
#5 Sing Street
There is something about that first great movie of the year which just jumps up and grabs you, isn’t there? Hell or High Water was that for me. It’s tough to know what to call this one, because many labels depict a portion of the whole. A thriller? Heist flick? Contemporary Western? (i.e. replace horses with pickups). Character study? Slow-simmering Southern potboiler? The answer for each is…eh, a little bit. Let’s be clear: Hell or High Water does not really DO anything new. Southern bank robbers looking to stiff the man and shake the law is nothing groundbreaking. Nor is sibling love, or the archetype of the wizened ole’ ranger on the cusp of retirement, taking on one last case because he just can’t quit taking out ‘dem bad guys.
So, why is it great? Well, it’s the unique combination of these factors which give Hell or High Water its particular flair. For starters, the film is fantastically paced. So much so that if you were looking for a shoot ‘em up, you would have found it to be downright slow. Sure it’s a thriller and a bank heist yarn, but it’s primarily a character study, and as such, we uniquely get to see robbers, sheriffs and the like painted with fine brushes instead of those grand sweeping strokes which are all too common in these types of pictures. We get into the heads of the characters – their motives, their pasts, their unique drives. In so doing, the lines between good and evil begin to blur.
The brothers are just trying to get back what they feel was stolen from them in the first place, and the bank network itself even has a dastardly, conniving role in the affairs. Beyond the characterization and pacing, this film has LOADS of tension. The best analogy I can muster comes from the world of sound. It’s that faint, high-pitched buzzing sound which starts really low. It’s imperceptible at first, but because of its continual presence, we begin to make it out. Then the sound slowly and steadily gets a bit louder and again louder until it’s become a downright searing squeal which consumes our entire attention. It’s moved seamlessly from background to foreground. Hell or High Water plays just like this, and so when the gunplay finally does come to bear in the third act, it takes on a monumental significance.
Finally, a quick kudos goes to the writer and director of this one for the great, non-theatrical, and realistic ending of this tale. The final conversation, for which I will give no spoilers, is frank, direct, and even carries forward some of the tension built and released in the third act. This porch convo and all that proceeds it make Hell or High Water well worth your time.
#6 Sully
This film needs some serious love. The awards circuit missed a real gem with this baby. They shafted Eastwood at the helm. They shafted Hanks as Sullenberger. They just plain old got it wrong.
What is great about Sully, besides the typically exceptional craftwork of Hanks as a lead and Eastwood running the point, is the unique way in which it approaches telling the story of the Miracle on the Hudson. The entire plot of the film actually takes place AFTER the plane has landed and Sully has been lauded as a life-saving hero. Indeed, we only see the actual plane in flight in a series of flashbacks, which are themselves crafty in that some show the actual events of the day and others Chesley’s feared disastrous endings in the form of nightmares.
This is the lesser told story of a pilot pulled and ripped apart in two separate directions. The first is the man in front of the camera – the humble hero, the worker, the pilot who trusted his gut in a split second and saved hundreds. The second is the rare treat of this film, the pilot who was under investigation by the very commission which allowed him to fly. Those in suits who began to question Sully’s judgment in landing a plane on the water, rather than trying to utilize a nearby airport. At this point, the picture takes on a courtroom procedural dynamic, and it is this setting which ultimately provides the satisfaction of Sully’s vindication and true recognition of his heroism.
To conclude, let’s address some issues from the so-called “other side.” Many have had critical things to say about Sully, and I’ll admit that many of the arguments are founded. The film is short, almost to a fault. The performances and writing is so “workmanlike,” to steal a critic’s phrase, that there’s little frills and extra drama. In fact, some have said that the multiple flashbacks don’t really accomplish anything in terms of progressing the story forward, and that Eastwood was rather just trying to stretch a short subject into a feature length film. Well, I’ll let you decide for yourselves whether you agree with these critiques. I tend to agree that the scenes on display are no-B.S., truncated, and the like. Sure, the pic is “workmanlike,” but when the workers are Eastwood, Hanks, and Eckhart, do we really have much to criticize? What we’re left with is likely just the kind of modest tribute that Chesley Sullenberger would have wanted.
#7 The Edge of Seventeen
Coming of age films, it seems to me, are about a dime a dozen. They’re everywhere and have been for years. Their plots play out like paint-by-numbers for the teenage soul. They generally feature similar characters, so rigid in their actions and characters arcs that they actually seem to morph into archetypes. Trust me, I’m not hating on them. I happen to love quite a few of them made in the last 30 years. But, these facts remain. So, one may rightly ask – How could anyone seeking to act like a “critic” recommend any of these to the serious moviegoer?
Short answer? Two words: John Hughes. Hughes’ films had a unique combination of attributes – whipsmart writing, hilarity wrung from sharp deliveries and the awkwardness of youth, terrific character arcs, good tunes, great endings, and this almost preternatural ability to delve into the lives of very specific characters with all their idiosyncrasies and yet wrest from them these amazing universal truths – which put him in very rare air indeed.
Hughes’ films were so good that everything after them began to be compared TO them, not unlike a currency to a gold standard. In the process, so many felt derivative that the genre appeared to completely lose its ability to say anything new. In fact, part of the quirks of independent filmmaking in the past, say 15 years, may have been an attempt to mine some of the uniqueness and humor from these films without having to rehash all the tropes of coming of age sagas. Who knows if I’m right. It’s a theory I’m working on anyway.
But if it is true. In other words, if great Sundance flicks like Little Miss Sunshine et al. grab comic gold and other bits and pieces from the films of yesteryear and then spinoff into their own indie universes, then The Edge of Seventeen is REALLY impressive. I mean, really truly something special. Because it doesn’t try to do that at all. It looks the genre dead in the eye, runs the length of the floor, hits all the flips and turns, and sticks the landing (OK, so I watched a lot of the Olympics last summer). This is the first film in many moons that actually felt like a John Hughes film. Not an imitation. The real deal. Steinfeld’s wit, humor, self-deprecation, and commanding presence are very reminiscent of Molly Ringwald’s at times. In fact, I think Steinfeld may actually be a more versatile, well-rounded actress. She plays an equally detestable and likeable character from moment to moment with a unique flair. The writing is razor sharp, funny, and incisive. The conflicts and character emotional arcs are genuine. Finally, if for nothing else, see it for the hilarious, deadpan turn by Woody Harrelson, who as her favorite high school teacher is the perfect stoic foil for her roller-coaster emotional self.
#8 Eye In The Sky
This is another film that I haven’t see on too many folk’s year end lists. But, I think this is an unfortunate oversight. Indeed, there have been many pictures made about the so-called War on Terror, and even recently, on the unique engagement and troubling pitfalls of drone warfare (Ethan Hawke’s Good Kill from 2015 is a fine example in this vein). Yet, there have been few willing to engage the thornier questions of modern warfare, delve into them in a very specific setting, and refuse to take sides in the whole affair. This Eye in the Sky accomplishes with unique sangfroid and aplomb.
After all, this sort of fence-sitting takes guts. Some would see it as weak, or noncommittal, or downright juvenile (as in too immature to pick a stance). Well, this flick blows those theories out of the water (or out of the sky, in this case). The immediate point of focus for Eye is Colonel Katherine Powell (played by the always assured Helen Mirren), who is a UK-based military officer in command of a top secret drone operation to capture some terrorists in Kenya. Powell soon discovers that the targets are holed up in a little shack, plotting a suicide bombing. The catch? As the mission begins to build from capture to kill, a 9 year old girl enters the kill radius, setting off a chain reaction across nations.
In terms of its aesthetic, Eye in the Sky pinballs back and forth from control rooms to commanding officers to drone pilot headquarters to surveillance on the ground and then back again. These locations are indeed global, from pilots in Las Vegas, to kill radius calculators in Hawaii, to the UK base of operations, to insiders in Nairobi, suits in England, and Secretaries of State in embassy tours in Asia. Modern warfare is truly a global phenomenon, and Hood makes sure that we do not miss this fact. In all of this scene jumping, we’re given a unique take on how war “gets done” in today’s world.
Once the girl enters the picture, there is almost a macabre amusement to the red tape the operation encounters. No one seems willing to issue the age-old “pull the trigger” command, instead sending the decision up to the next high ranking official one step further removed from the ground. When the issue to fire is finally given, a huge dispute over the moral, political, and even personal implications of such action begins to rage. Should we bomb a terrorist, if she has legitimate British citizenship? Should every last precaution be taken to save the little girl’s life? If these do not suffice, does the unique opportunity to save hundreds of lives in a possible future suicide bombing outweigh the almost definite damage to life that would occur if the kill order is executed? Eye in the Sky tackles all of these queries head-on, doesn’t blink or seek easy cop out answers, and majestically maintains the wartime political “thriller” appellation, even as very little physical “action” actually takes place. Contrast this with Michael Bay’s 13 Hours, for instance, and note the distinctions. In the end, Eye posits that war is no easy business, and that the stakes, for the loss of even one life, are necessarily, ridiculously high.
#9 Kubo & The Two Strings
*Jungle Book/Zootopia/Moana
In the beginning of this write-up, I informed you that I had spent much more time watching kids’ flicks this year. Maybe it’s because of my own two younger children, or maybe it’s because of my own kid-like heart. (Or maybe I just used the kids as an excuse to watch the movies I wanted to see anyway. J ). In any case, this was a GREAT year for G/PG films. I guess I could call this little section “Kids Corner.” I’m highlighting what I found to be the most original, impressively drawn, and craftily written of them all, but all are deserving of mention. Favreau brought The Jungle Book with such exquisite results. The CGI with the animals, the live acting, and that age old Kipling classic story made this a great adventure for the whole family. (Incidentally, I could say many of the same things about Pete’s Dragon). Zootopia, on the other hand, was just downright funny. Casting Jason Bateman as the off-color (in a kids setting, mind you), scheming and scamming fox was a move of genius. The screenplay bursts with wit and adventure. The characters are rich and well-developed. Finally, you can’t talk about Zootopia without mentioning the sloths at the DMV. That five minute sequence is one of the cleverest, most hysterical animated bits I’ve seen in years. Kudos to the writing team there.
Moana, by contrast, was great in all of the ways that Disney films of old have been great. By that I mean, that exceptional knack for writing beautiful song numbers, introducing well-orbed characters, tremendous detailed animation, and…ahem, you know…the ability to mine and completely bungle the history, religion, and origin tales of native cultures. In fact, Disney has a long history of doing this, from Mulan to Pocahontas, Hercules to the Hunchback, and oh so many more. So, I suppose you can choose which way you want to lean on this one. You can opt, like one Smithsonian writer, to see the cut-and-paste collage work of Pacific Island origin tales, the reinforcement of stereotypical Islanders as being overweight, macho, and kind of stupid (the actual Maui character is generally seen as lithe, strong, and incredibly keen in such tales). Or, you can elect to see the other side – another beautifully told, strong female coming-of-age tale with gorgeous animation, a gripping story, a captivating soundtrack (trust me, I’d know. This baby has been on in our minivan plenty.), and a gut-busting turn by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as the lovable, if not misguided Maui. I’ll leave the choice up to you.
Yes, I know…I didn’t mention Finding Dory on this list. Look, my kids loved it. I just happen to think it greatly paled in comparison to the original. And that…at last!…bring us to Kubo & the Two Strings, which I loved. For my money, Charlize Theron and Matthew McConaughey as two of the voice leads here are the very best. The animation is so unique in the way it almost blends two and three-dimensional artwork, and the hero’s journey is beautifully told. I appreciated the uniqueness and originality on display in Kubo, even as it did not particularly break new ground in its story. There is an ethereal quality to the drawing of some of the supernatural aspects of the story which is really enthralling. You cannot really go wrong seeing any of these films, but if you’d like a fresh take on an old story, give Kubo a looksy.
#10 Hacksaw Ridge
I debated long and hard on my final selection for this year’s list. After much deliberation, I narrowed the pack down to three films: Hacksaw went head-to-head, in my mind, with two other gems – Nocturnal Animals and Moonlight. The former boasted the incomparable talents of Amy Adams, who it seems to me does for her films what Tom Hanks has long done for his own. In effect, they completely anchor the projects they’re involved in, somehow creating this orbital force within them that all of the other pieces of the film seem to revolve around. Indeed, you need look no further than Arrival from this year to make this fact abundantly clear. In the case of Nocturnal, however, it is not Adams alone who carries the project. For my own part, I think the Globes actually got it right on this one. The strongest supporting role I saw all year was from Aaron Taylor Johnson, as the completely depraved and villainous Ray Marcus. These facts aside, I ultimately found that while the production and visuals were quite gorgeous, the conclusion of the whole messy affair lacked staying power.
By contrast, Moonlight is probably the most artistic thing you could see all year long. It is phenomenally edited, expertly thought out and shot, and greatly acted across its distinct, three act structure. The film could be equally criticized or hailed for hitting all the right “liberal” labels – inner city cycle of poverty, druggie mom, black adolescent outsider ruthlessly bullied, and latent homosexual yearnings in the face of a macho male culture. Yes, it checked all the right boxes, and it contained a memorable, if too short, performance by Mahershala Ali. But, it was not simply artful. It was also exceptionally done.
So, why, in the end, did I land on Hacksaw Ridge? Well, I suppose the answer starts with the fact that Hacksaw appears to me to be the most complete film of them all. Moreover, Andrew Garfield’s lovable and ultimately winning performance as the conscientious objector Desmond Doss will stick with you long after the credits roll. Still, in truth, I opted for Hacksaw because of one 20 minute segment in the center of the picture. It is, to put it simply, completely mesmerizing. In it, we witness Doss risking life and limb to crawl back over a war-torn battlefield in an effort to save as many soldiers as he can. See, Doss had wanted to be a medic since his childhood. As a principled man who deeply eschewed the use of personal violence, he nonetheless believed in the validity of the American war effort. So, after much ridicule and some real hoop-jumping, he at last got through basic training and was finally sent with his unit to Okinawa, Japan – aka the bloodiest battle of the Second World War. In the scene, Garfield truly embodies Doss, and as he combs the fields looking for his fallen brethren (he even sends some Japanese soldiers over the wall for aid), we realize we are witnessing a true courageous and incredibly self-sacrificial act of heroism.
Now, I can’t leave this film behind without mentioning Mel Gibson. It is true that Hacksaw does share some similarities with Gibson’s other projects. It could be criticized, for instance, for its near obsession with blood and violence in the key battle. These are criticisms also leveled at some of his other projects, but I ultimately find them unsatisfactory. This is war, folks. Gibson isn’t basking in the glory of rising body counts, like some Michael Bay production. He’s simply highlighting the danger, tension, and even terror facing those who fought that day, which actually stands to FURTHER bolster what Doss was able to accomplish. More to the point, Hacksaw does contain that common Gibson formula of a solo male heroic figure doing battle alone and seemingly saving the “world” of the picture. Braveheart and The Patriot are, of course, the most obvious examples in this vein.
This critique seems to be a little more valid to me, but I believe in this particular case Mel Gibson was able to transcend this bugaboo. Firstly, because Hacksaw was more historically grounded than, say, Braveheart which certainly took some creative liberties with the William Wallace character. Secondly, and most importantly, Gibson did not cast HIMSELF as the hero. In fact, as has been stated, he cast the perfect actor to transform himself into this good old, faith-filled country boy who had charm and charisma for miles and guts for days. It is for all of these reasons that I wholeheartedly recommend you see Hacksaw Ridge. I’d be shocked if you found it disappointing.
Other Awards:
Best Acted Film of the Year: Fences
Art Kid’s Dream Film: Moonlight
Funniest Film of the Year:Bad Moms
Honorable Montions:
Nocturnal Animals
20th Century Women
Deepwater Horizon
Moonlight (Did I mention this was well done?)
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