Feb 1, 202033 min read

FOF Best of 2019

Greetings Cinephiles!

What a year for film! No, really. I mean it. WHAT A YEAR FOR CINEMA! Still not buying it? Need further convincing? Well, I’ll put it this way: If you were a sophisticated, intergalactic anthropologist dropped out of the sky (like something you’d see in an Abrams movie) and tasked with studying the most majestic of artforms – “The Cinema” – you’d be hard-pressed to find a better year to make your maiden voyage.

I have been compiling my musings for seven years into that glorious postmodern medium known as the listicle. But, in truth, I’ve been seriously studying movies for nearly a dozen, those first five years punctuated more by playing the voyeur to others’ thoughts amidst my own cowardice, basking in the glow of their own more fully-formed ruminations (looking at you, Adam Kline). Professing to have any kind of inherent authority in the realm of something so subjective may be foolhardy. At the very least it's an act of courage. Still, I've put in the time. And now I'd love it if you'd see if my thoughts resonate with you in any way.

OK, I digress. Let me return to the point: I’m not sure if I’ve seen a year with such a vast array of quality work. Top to bottom. Genre after genre. In the past, I've made it a point to select some films which I thought deserved recognition or were lesser known, were of a certain genre or struck me in a particular way. This year, we'll have none of that. There's simply no room! The pool is too large and loaded. Indie gems like Peanut Butter Falcon and Wild Rose will have to join a long list of the also-ran's. So too will major studio popcorn flicks (Ford vs. Ferrari), cutesy rom coms (Plus One), awesome music-influenced pictures (Blinded by the Light, Her Smell), female-directed fllms starring scene-stealers J-Lo and Constance Wu (Hustlers), and a melodramatic teen fever dream which left turns into Terence Malick navel-gazing land in its second act (Waves).

After ALL that, what remains below are the ones that made the cut. Twenty of them. It couldn't be helped. Enjoy!

#20 John Wick: Chapter 3

Violence as poetry. It's the hyper-stylized violent imagery of Jodorowsky in a waltz with the choreography of ballet. But, could such a marriage really work? John Wick 3: Parabellum screams back a defiant - "YES!" Toward that end, JW3 contains no less than six remarkable fight sequences in its runtime. It features (somewhat in film order) - an expert knife throwing battle, murder by tome in the library, Keanu on horseback battling goons on motorcycles, a sequence where Halle Berry is sic'ing two highly trained dogs on a whole platoon of baddies (unreal stunt sequence), a battle with martial arts twins in a house of mirrors, and a final mano y mano hand-to-hand that somehow manages NOT to pale in comparison to aaaaall that went before it. The first two JW's were great pictures full of great fun. But, this kind of visual battle storytelling is without peer. Throw in the fact that the plot is not entirely missing here either (we get more of the High Table and Wick's origin story), and this is popcorn fare not to be missed.

#19 Transit

Let me tell you something you may already know. If you're going to see the best films "out there" nowadays, you are going to have to, say it with me, READ SUBTITLES! Either that or spend a hell of a lot of bread on Rosetta Stone. There are simply too many great things coming out of too many corners of the world to leave all this scattered gold uncollected. This is the first foreign film on my list. Spoiler alert: It will not be the last.

Transit is really a remarkable picture. It takes the Nazi occupation of France, throws it in a time portal to the future, and abuts a tale of assumed identity, mistaken persons, torrid love, and ultimate tragedy amidst a world of refugees and displacement. You'll be hard-pressed to find a film this achingly romantic AND heady in equal measure. This out of time and of the moment. (Plus...it's on Amazon Prime right now. Just press play).

#18 Booksmart

Awhile back there came along a director and a group of actors who together churned out a series of hilarious, raunchy, whipsmart, over the top comedies. Judd Apatow may not be the man solely responsible for these longer running, more situational, true to life comedies that replaced the slapstick fare of old. But he is certainly one of the patron saints, and two of his band of misfits, Jonah Hill and Michael Cera, starred in a rather memorable coming-of-age tale. Superbad, while surely not for everyone, hit closer to home than many cared to admit. A story about two senior nerds trying to go out of high school with a bang, in search of booze and encountering all sorts of misadventures in the quest, Superbad had a premium of guffaws. Yet, it also housed a more inward tale of fear in the possible loss of friendship and carefree innocence that comes at the cusp of adulthood.

Well, 12 years later, Olivia Wilde looked out across the comic landscape and took a bold and confident step. She would, she decided, re-make a kind of Superbad, only with GIRLS. Super-smart girls, in fact, who had never done anything wrong a single day in high school. Realizing this on the eve of graduation, Beanie Feldstein and Kaityln Dever set out to shove four years of carousing into one eventful night. The film is positively hilarious in moments and downright emotional in others. While the sheer raucous laughter of its predecessor may be absent, I think Wilde does better on two counts. For one, the dialogue between these girls at the edge of huge personal transitions is deeper, more self-aware, and brings the hidden aspects of their fears to the surface. But, beyond this Booksmart should be lauded for the way nearly every single character, leads and hysterical bit actors alike, transcend the flat and false perceptions of them so common in these types of coming-of-age tales. In the end, it's as if Olivia said, "I'll see your work, Judd. And I'll raise you this." We're all lucky she strode so confidently.

#17 1917

You've seen this picture before. You just didn't know you had, because Roger Deakins didn't shoot your film to look like one continuous long take. Brotherhood. Sacrifice. The banality and pointlessness of war (here with an especially WWI trench warfare bent). Heroism. Sweeping scopes and deft small touches. It's all there. It's just never been quite this majestic to behold. This film both over- and underwhelmed me in turns, but it caused a man who is downright TIRED of war flicks to sit up and pay attention. That's enough to heartily recommend it.

#16 The Souvenir

The Souvenir may be the most artful picture of 2019. In that regard, there is really a ton of reasons to recommend it. I'll just briefly touch on two here. For starters, the relationship between its two leads is one of the most hypnotic, relatable, and ultimately crushing in all of the year's films. Julie is a demure film student who is only beginning to feel her feet beneath her vocationally. Unfortunately, she is just starting to hit her stride when she comes face to face with her possible ruin. In this case, the one who could snuff out her burgeoning voice is the older Anthony, a government man who slowly becomes dear to her heart. The only trouble is that Anthony is a heroin user, a thief, and a deeply untrustworthy individual. What then will become of their romance?

The Souvenir deserves tremendous praise for the way it handily treats age discrepancies and the nature of unhealthy power dynamics in love. Moreover, it's treatment of addictions' effect on both the user and the lover who sees through it to the heart of the man, and the loss of innocence that is the inevitable result of such encounters is commendable. Space forbids a full treatment of this here, but suffice it to say - Joanna Hogg's presentation of this liaison is exquisite.

Finally, I can't leave here without mentioning one Honor Swinton Byrne. This was her FIRST FILM CREDIT! Friends, I can't emphasize enough how crazy this is. She completely carries this film on her able beyond her years shoulders. Her performance is simply magnetic. She manages to be so effective that we both hurt for her and better understand the humanity in Anthony. Their love is so true to life because it is full of soaring highs AND devastating lows. If ANY of these delicate lines of tension are left unbalanced, the whole film topples. Instead, Byrne brings it all together in herself. We witness rare greatness, and we walk away in gratitude.

#15 The Mustang

If you STILL need further proof that this year's docket was an almost embarrassment of riches, here may be an ideal point of comparison. The Mustang was my dark horse picture of the year (no pun intended), much like last year's majestic The Rider. Both were gripping, personal, emotive heart-on-the-sleeve tales of broken men and their healing connections with animals. The difference? Well, The Rider landed at number 1 for me in 2018. The Mustang sits here at 15.

Now that is by no means a dig. This film was probably the most underappreciated of 2019, in my opinion. Simply put, it got no love anywhere, and that's a shame. Matthias Schoenaerts plays the convict Roman, a quiet, intensely pained man who just can't outrun the anger in his past - a rage which led to devastating consequences. Roman, like other selected convicts, is soon forced into a rehabilitation program whereby prisoners attempt to tame wild mustangs gathered from the nearby Nevada plains.

Schoenaerts finds a sort of soul connection with one of the fiercest mustangs of the group, his own unbridled nature matched pitch for pitch with the animal's native wildness. Humanity and nature together is a theme oft-explored, but not generally this well. The Mustang is shot in such a way that it appears like a quasi-documentary. Its realism is perfect for the subject matter. The film never soft peddles how dangerous these men really are or the desperation of their circumstances. Rather, The Mustang is far more interested in a soulful rumination on the natures of freedom and imprisonment, what it's like to be caged, and the ways we seek to rehabilitate our cruder sides.

In a year this loaded, I can't say that I'm actually disappointed that no one noticed Schoenaerts' performance. But, I would argue that he was perfectly matched for the part. Schoenaerts has this impeccable way of saying as much in silence as he does in monologues. He's so adept at communicating through facial expressions BIG feelings like anguish or the faintest seeds of hope. In the middle of the film, we meet Roman's daughter for the first time, and come to realize why he is in the prison. Later she returns in need of something else from him. Those two sequences, filled with anger in the former case and weeping in the latter, are as good as anything else I watched in 2019 from a male actor. See it for yourself, and you can testify the truth with me.

#14 The Irishman

My freshmen year of college I was sitting in a classroom listening to my Sociology professor discuss a field of study known as Gestalt Psychology. "According to this theory," he was saying. "We as humans tend to find that the WHOLE IS GREATER THAN THE SUM OF ITS PARTS when observing phenomena." Something like that. His point was that we often seek cohesion when viewing objects. We try to place individual things into a greater framework of understanding.

For some inexplicable (and likely damaged) reason, the part of the phrase in all caps above came back to me when watching The Irishman. (Yeah, you don't want to live in this head). Simply put, IF this is the best picture of the year (as more than a few critics have argued), it is BECAUSE OF the sum of its parts. I don't usually write in this fashion, but maybe a list is most effective here:

Legendary director
Epic in all proportions - massive cast, runtime, span of years covered in the film's story, cost, etc.
Three illustrious actors playing roles reminiscent of their past glories while being somehow new
Great writing
Solid editing (in a 200 minute picture this is quite remarkable)
Awesome costumes and production/anti-aging CGI
A story that moves with action
And, a "daughter character" who acts as this grounded moral compass (using just a look or lingering in a room). She serves as a reminder to us that what these guys are doing isn't just "business"...it's freaking evil! It's murder. If you've watched Marty before, this character is often absent.

So, that's quite a lengthy list. Indeed, The Irishman's merits seem to put it in the category of past winners like Gone With the Wind, The Godfather, and the like.

The trouble, returning to my gen ed class above, is that the WHOLE, it seems to me, is not greater than the sum of its parts (all I just listed). The movie HAS everything, but leaves me with very little. Do I identify deeply with anyone in it? Ok, maybe it's not that kind of film. Was I greatly moved? Did it transcend its individual pieces? It's never slow, but was I riveted? After much reflection, I concluded that the answer to all of these "whole picture questions" was sadly a NO.The Irishman remains a grand cinematic experience (one which many of us ironically viewed on our couches), full of all the "stuff" of movie legend, but without that extra sprinkling of magic.

#13 Knives Out

There are really two stories being told simultaneously in Knives Out. One is manifest - right in front of our eyes. The other is latent - subtle and rich in subtext. On the surface, Knives Out is a rather fantastically glossy genre exercise, bringing us back to the whodunit's of Marple and Pierot, the witness rattling of Holmes and Watson. The game Clue.

For those who did not yet know it, Rian Johnson is a hell of a director. He knows how to spin a yarn. His films are generally bitingly funny and exquisitely well-cast (The roll call on these credits alone looks like a Who's Who of Hollywood past and present). Plummer as the slain patriarch. Jamie Lee, Don Johnson, Michael Shannon, and Toni Collette as the children, and Daniel Craig as the inspector! My goodness, forget the trailer, I'm in!

And Knives Out does unfold delightfully. There are family interviews and recreated past episodes which morph and change as the cast members alibis become more porous. Its moves swimmingly until we reach the third act, and here is where the film falters for me. I found this portion, when Craig at last brings forth his findings, to be a little TOO overly expository. We don't need twenty minutes for you to tell us who really did it. Just churn out the goods one time in five minutes. We're smart. We'll get it. For a better example of that, I'd actually recommend a film near and dear to my heart: Johnson's FIRST film, Brick.

Oh and that other layer. Well it's a complete takedown of the rich, silly. Perhaps it's a lambasting of Trump's America. The heroine, after all, is an immigrant. Johnson is quite the xenophobe. And Toni Collette's Joni is sooo obviously Gwenyth Paltrow that the whole thing just lands a little too on the nose. On the level of subtext, the whole thing almost screams - How vapid are the rich! But, Knives Out offers surface pleasures for those uninterested in all of its sub-themes. For that, and for the way Rian injects his genre tale with a beating moral conscience (dodging spoilers here), he is deserving of high praise.

#12 A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

So, when I said in the intro that I avoided picks that were personal selections of mine, because there were simply TOO many better choices, I suppose I wasn't being fully honest. It could be argued that #12 and #11 deserve to be lower. But, I'll give you my reasons why they are not. In this case, let me start with a little tidbit from yesteryear: Little childhood Nick LOOOOOVED him some Mr. Rogers. And I'm willing to bet many childhood versions of you loved him as well.

A Beautiful Day... deserves praise, in my opinion, for the way it is structured and directed. Normally in a biopic with Tom Hanks I'd be talking about the strength of his incredible performance. Here, I want to talk about everything BUT his role. You see that's really the wonder of how this film is built. Wouldn't it be just perfect to make a film about the unassuming Fred Rogers where...HE ISN'T EVEN THE MAIN CHARACTER! It's perfect. That's SO Mr. Rogers. He was always deflecting praise and reducing his message to the most common grounds. He believed in little acts to love your neighbor. Weren't you listening?

But Fred Rogers was anything but timid or magoo-ish (as he's been stereotyped before). He spoke to congress about getting more public funding for education...and won. He cast an African American mailman for his show, and then they dipped their feet together in a kiddy pool on a summer day. This fact wasn't lost on many witnessing America's battles over segregated pools at the time. He wrote an army invasion into the neighborhood of puppets when all the children were hearing their parents talk about Vietnam. Mr. Rogers may have been mild-mannered, but he was not weak. He dealt with real issues with children, and he taught them to how to deal with big people emotions healthily. Fred Rogers was bold and unyielding in his message of love and care for ALL people (Won't you be my neighbor?).

So, it's at this point where we really need to enter the film's director into our discussion. Marielle Heller, another female director under-recognized in this season, steered this ship so impressively. If you read the last paragraph closely enough, you can see my own kind of hero worship creeping in. Rogers was someone for whom these kinds of comparisons could be made. But Heller is having none of that. Her Fred Rogers is a present man, not a distant saint. She adroitly eschews falling headlong into hagiography while still managing to do honor and justice to his cherished name. It's a remarkable feat indeed.

Moreover, structurally A Beautiful Day is brilliant. As previously mentioned, Mr. Rogers may be the shadow hanging over the entire picture, but he is not its chief protagonist. Instead, the film really centers on the real-life journalist Tom Junod, the writer ordered to do a profile on Rogers for Esquire magazine. But what does Heller do from here? She frames the entire film like an episode of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. So, Junod is introduced on a picture board at the beginning of an episode, and the film returns several times to this centering piece (one memorable sequence involves a nightmare where Junod is accosted by almost life-size versions of the show's puppets). In conclusion, Heller found a way to tell an uncommon tale about a truly unique man, and it was one he surely deserved.

#11 Ready Or Not

This just might have been the most fun I had all year in cinema. What a macabre delight! Was Ready or Not the 11th BEST film of 2019? Probably not. But it was oh so much better than many are recognizing. For one thing, I'm not sure I've ever seen a film which so deftly blends such dark and violent themes with downright laugh out loud moments. The laughs are real and earned, but it is also genuinely nerve wracking in moments. In this way, it manages to avoid full on parody.

The plot of the film is simple enough: Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl agrees to marry boy. On their wedding night, girl meets boy's enormously wealthy family, whose gaming empire has given them this massive gothic mansion. Girl's new in-laws force her to play a game, in a family tradition dating back decades. Girl has the misfortune of drawing "Hide and Seek," a hunt and find game with a twist. This one is...to the death. Girl is victim of one badly misjudged calculation on the part of the family - this unassuming, weak damsel is actually a total badass. Let the bloody games ensue!

And so they do. There is violence and tension aplenty. There are also remarkably vapid rich characters who are delightfully skewered, both intellectually and physically. Perhaps Ready or Not's take on class warfare is a little blunt, but its characters inspire such glee that it's easily forgiven. There is the cokehead sister who can't seem to stop accidentally killing the help. The spectral Aunt Helene who went through this ordeal herself 30 years prior, and now will put the family's future inheritance above all else. The husband Fitch, who opts for a crossbow, and then lays it across his lap on the toilet while he catches up on the latest online trends. Even the new husband is a delightful mix of doe-eyed innocence and deeper waters beneath the surface.

Yet this film wouldn't be even close to as effective as it is were it not for its truly astonishing conclusion. For all of the darkness and violence Ready or Not contains, it is always of an earthly nature. Real battles with real flesh and blood creatures (soulless as the rich are portrayed to be), using weapons ranging from multiple centuries. All the enemies in this tale are tangible, or so we think. Then, the finale brings the generous benefactor from the family's ancient history back into play and with him the question of a shocking supernatural twist. But, that's all you'll get out of me. You'll have to behold it for yourself. Are you ready...or not?

#10 The Two Popes

#9 The Farewell

Allow me to get at what really is so fantastic about The Farewell in a rather odd fashion, namely by exploring two of the chief criticisms against it. The first is that there is really not much going on. "It's boring and dull," someone shouts from the back. More on this in a minute. The second is a deconstruction of Awkwafina's performance, who is usually so completely effervescent and captivating (see Crazy Rich Asians). In this film, however, her acting is a little one note. It's basically 100 minutes of the same sullen, morose face.

OK, fair enough. If your issues with this film fall outside those lines, well, sorry for not addressing them. But we must trudge onward. Regarding the "boring claim"...look, this is an art film. The plot really isn't the point anyway. The Farewell is more about the wealth of characters and their actions. And the fact is this picture has some of the most naturalistic actors saying some of the most naturalistic lines in ages. Nai Nai, the grandmother, is incredible from start to finish and greatly deserved a nomination she never received. The older brother of the family is fantastic. Billi's mother, as this grounding outside voice (she's lived in the US for decades) is simply amazing. The list goes on. I will grant you that this may not be Awkwafina's best work, but remember, she is the conscience of this film. She is the embodiment of grief and sorrow, and upon her falls the heaviest weight of guilt for the secret she's hiding from her beloved grandmother.

The film itself is stellar. It's hilarious in parts and moving in others just like real life. Not one part of it is forced, and, clocking in at around 100 minutes, it never overstays its welcome. People talk about subtlety often in film, and this is one of the best examples I've seen of it. You're not spoonfed anything. Rather, you're left to figure out the dynamics between each of the family members past and present all on your own. The Farewell explores old and young themes, east and West motifs, reflections on the question of where home really is and what the immigration experience is like (both in Japan and the US). Finally, it's also kind of a coming of age tale for Billi. So, it's delicately loaded with all of this terrific "stuff."

The movie never really has this HUGE emotive moment, but it has a wealth of really good scenes. The older brother's speech at the faux wedding, where he finally simply breaks down in tears is one. The discussion between Billi and her mother about how grief does not look the same for everyone is another. Yet a third involves one of the many mealtime scenes in the picture, where Billi's mother is trading verbal barbs with the daughter who stayed in China and never emigrated. Finally, there is a hysterical sequence where they're all leaving items at the grandfather's grave and bowing incessantly in some (obviously outdated to them) Chinese respect for the dead ceremony. It's all just subtly great.

As we've said, all of these naturalistic events are occurring - weddings, funerals, rites of passage - and even in a completely different language there are a myriad of things that you would recognize from our own culture. It is really this fact which is the most enduring strength of The Farewell, a picture chock full of culturally specific elements married to universal family themes.

#8 The Lighthouse

Show of hands...any Greek mythology fans in the audience? Prometheus the Titan? Proteus, the old man of the sea? Anyone? Beuhler...? Well, let's just keep those figures in our back pocket throughout these proceedings, m'kay.

In truth, The Lighthouse is so unique and expertly crafted that I'm actually fearful that I won't properly do it justice in these few words. From the brilliance of its black and white, Academy ratio visual formatting to two completely indelible powerhouse performances by its leads, The Lighthouse is a masterful genre picture. (Talk about a film shafted by the Academy!) It is not an easy film to watch, in truth. Maybe it will be most beloved by those who like a cinematic puzzle.

The film begins straightforward enough. Former timber-man Ephraim Winslow (played magnetically by Robert Pattinson) arrives on an island to serve as a "wickie" for the island's lighthouse keeper, the elderly Thomas Wake (a perfectly cast Willem Defoe). Wake is a distant, persnickety man full of many superstitions and prone to long, mythogically-infused monologues. (Side note: Get the screenplay for a few of these men's diatribes. It will be among the best writing that you read all year). The two men are forced to live in tight quarters for a span of four weeks, Wake allotting Winslow the most menial, physically taxing labors. Soon, even as they grow somewhat closer, frustrations begin to build between them.

As the film progresses, strange omens begin to come into play. There is the persistent nuisance of seagulls, who come to torment Winslow, and who Wake claims are the souls of deceased sailors. On his first night on the island, Ephraim finds a mermaid figurine stuffed into his mattress. Soon, he begins having visions of such a creature and of the premature demise of his former employer. But, the lighthouse itself is perhaps the oddest thing of all, casting a light which clearly captivates Wake. The old man will allow no other being in the topmost part of the tower, but he himself stares obsessively into its light night after night, often completely naked.

These isolated experiences really begin to take flight when Ephraim, finally sick and tired of the gulls' torments, acts out violently towards one creature. Almost immediately the winds start to shift and a nor'easter begins to pelt the island. The men, forced inside of their claustrophobic barracks, begin to drink to excess and engage in all sorts of debauchery. A tentative alliance is formed between them, kindred spirits of the bottle, even as they still fight and jockey for supremacy. (By fight, I mean this)!

Soon, time begins to lose all meaning. Questions arise in the men and the viewers minds: What day is it? Did Ephraim miss his return ship off this cursed land? And how many weeks ago was that? Is that siphoned gasoline that the two are starting to imbibe? The men's grip on their sanity begins to wane and animosity between them reaches a fever pitch. Surrealistic elements begin to infiltrate the narrative, and masterfully, with two rather untrustworthy narrators before us, we're not sure what to believe!

This, at the last, is the real power of Egger's achievement here. The black and white smaller ratio serves to confine the film's cramped quarters even more. And the lack of color only aids in the disillusionment of time and altered narratives. Eggers himself said in an interview that the film was really a coalescence of two Greek myths, that of Prometheus the fire bringer, and Proteus, a sort of right hand man to Poseidon. (You can guess who was who). Though never before melded together in this fashion, their stories offer an enrapturing lens into interpreting the film's key events and conclusion. Speaking of the ending, it is as terrific as all that went before it. Ay ye travelers of the world, come near. There is enchantment in the light.

#7 Uncut Gems

I hated to watch Uncut Gems. But I think that's exactly the point.

There is a scene in Clockwork Orange which many who've viewed it will never forget. I'm referring to that infamous, highly controversial psych treatment where Malcolm McDowell is fitted with a metallic contraption to force his eyes continually open, given a peculiar kind of eye drops for lubrication and nauseating effect, and forced to watch scenes of a prurient, violent, and debased nature. Maybe this visual will help jog your memory. If we could authentically enter McDowell's plight in that scene, well, that's what watching Uncut Gems is like.

Actually you don't really watch this movie so much as get bowled over by it. The whole film is a train wreck you can't peel your eyes away from. The score is 80's electronica one second, funereal the next, layered and orchestral a third, and back again. The camera, matching it beat for beat, is a bit like riding on a tilt-a-whirl (remember the nausea mentioned above?): thrill-inducing in ways we're not sure are all positive.

The dialogue is grating, WAY too cuss happy, angry, juvenile. People talking over each other for hours. The story is populated by characters who are infuriating and immature, but, and this key, who NEVER come off as anything but 100% believable.

Sandler is flipping transcendent. His omission on year end acting awards lists is inexcusable. I asked myself after viewing this..was he really that good? The dark horse that everyone behind the scenes was praising? After all, isn't his Howard Ratner just a BIT too much like the ragey man child of Billy Madison or Happy Gilmore? If you listen closely enough, don't you hear the Sandler CD's I snuck around with in middle school, inhabited by off-kilter, abrasive characters in his role here? Maybe. But the difference here is critical. For all of his philandering, wheeling and dealing, lying, and ruinous scheming, Sandler's Ratner STILL never ceases to be an empathetic character in our eyes. He deserves utter ruin, and yet we somehow want him to make it out of this debacle unscathed. That is the raw power of his performance.

All of these things probably lead to the wide discrepancy between critical and audience score that we see for Uncut Gems. Escapist filmmaking this is not. How many people want to sit and get sensory punched in the face for two plus hours? Many are like - no thanks. And I can't say I really blame them. But, like the titular rock of the film, hiding rare treasures amidst common grime, Uncut Gems is full of artistic diamonds for those invested in finding them.

Maybe this is the best movie I ever hated.

#6 Little Women

Little Women is the 19th century period piece remake that you had no idea you needed but will be so glad you witnessed. After the mud-trudging of Uncut Gems, we are all in need of a cold shower. This film is the perfect antidote. Quite simply, Little Women is bright and sweet in the way that all of the best pictures are. Yet, it is also tough and gritty, as full of audacity as it is saccharine romance. This is why Greta Gerwig was the right woman for the job.

A remake that hewed closely to the original narrative could have easily come off as dated or stale. These young women's terrific adornments matching a tale just as old-fashioned. But that is NOT the case with Gerwig leading this enterprise. Not by a long shot. Instead, she culls the novel for its finer points, and presents a strikingly modern story (Or, as one genius friend of mine called it - "fresh"). In truth, Louisa May Alcott herself had these elements in her own stories. Her characters were pictures of beautiful femininity counterbalanced with firm resolve about what they wanted in life and how they were going to go after it.

To that end, Gerwig does previous adaptations one better by actually shoehorning aspects of Alcott's own life into the story's narrative. It's no secret that Jo's character is based largely on Alcott's own experiences as a writer, and the siblings akin to her own. But here, Jo's character actually goes to a publisher (the always fantastic Tracy Letts) and fights for her rights to publish. Likewise, her take on Amy's exploits in France highlight her independence and principles. In so doing, Gerwig takes the feminist convictions of the original tale and empowers the March sisters more than ever before.

Beyond this, look this thing is just incredible to watch! The costumes and production design are picturesque. It features an incredible wealth of young actors doing spot on work (Pugh and Ronan's performances are among the best all year), a gorgeous score, lithe movement and timely themes, and is simply altogether lovely. This is a date movie with heart, an all ages treasure of warmth and wonder and all the best things about love and life. It teaches us that every journey has its setbacks and disappointment, but with friendship and family on our side, we can always brave even the toughest waters.

#5 Midsommar

The story of Midsommar, for me, actually begins a year previously. It was 2018, and I was staring blankly as the credits of Ari Aster's Hereditary scrolled past my unseeing eyes. I was not completely sure what I had just witnessed, but I knew it was of a different caliber than so much of the trashy horror coming out today. Aster's eye for detail with the camera, the remarkable way he shot his picture stuck with me. So too did the score, which, as you know, is such a vital underbelly in all horror pictures. I simply remember feeling like - Wow, if there was ever an arthead who made horror films (a genre long thought of as pulpy, sleazy gore fests for the adolescent male brain), it would be this dude.

Well, Aster is back again, and this time he's made an EVEN BETTER art horror masterpiece. One need only watch the first 10 minutes or so of Midsommar to realize the master is back at the helm. An opening murder-suicide plays out with these sweeping phantasmagoric shots over a bed of haunting strings. This is the introduction to the picture. I suggest you buckle up.

From there, our plot comes into focus. A group of American anthropology students (and one's girlfriend) decide to take a holiday traveling to a remote area of Sweden to join a rare midsummer festival. What at first seems like a land of endless pleasures - sunny 'scapes, warm strangers, and freely available hallucinogenics - soon becomes increasingly unnerving. Until the group realizes that they've actually stumbled into the middle of a pagan, suicide cult, and the once warm looks have now taken on a more sinister hue. What do you do when the ritual may be about...you?!

Ari Aster is just the best guy working on these kinds of films. His depiction of an acid trip is visually transcendent, and commingled with the score and atmosphere, truly freaky. His characters are rich and believable, his endings ALWAYS shocking and visceral. Add to these things the fact that this entire film is made in BROAD DAYLIGHT. Think about that! How subversive! How often is dark used as the creator of fear and suspense in horror films? Aster is not afforded that crutch, and he still delivers the chills!

Still, what I found to be truly mesmeric about Midsommar came from an interview I heard with Asterafter the fact. In it, he claimed that he really wanted his film to be seen as a break up movie dressed up in folk horror raiment. A bit like The Wicker Man meets 10 Things I Hate About You (One of these things is not like the other). And Aster lays this all out, from the girl staying with the "wrong guy" while the dream man sits right underneath her nose, to her experiencing a series of ordeals which eventually end with breaking free and burning the old memories of boyfriends' past. It's all there in Midsommar, in the most diabolical, wonky terror event you may ever be privileged to attend.

#4 Marriage Story

In some ways, Marriage Story is the hardest film to recommend to you. It's not glitzy or glamorous. It's not particularly suspenseful or filled with twists. It's talky and limited in scope. It's not full of great costumes or grand set designs. Yet, what it is, in fact, is sturdy as an oak. What it is is somehow beautiful and deeply human, even as its subjects' lives undergo devastating transformation.

Marriage Story is a tale about the disintegration of a couple's relationship. So, why in the world should you see it? Well, let's start with this: This film stars three of the strongest acting performances of the year. Or, how about this: Noah Baumbach's screenplay is a clinic in fantastic writing. Watch it for Laura Dern's no-nonsense attorney (even if her portrayal is a bit too much like her Renata from HBO's Big Little Lies). Watch it for Scar Jo, who drastically raised my respect for her as a dramatic actress in the course of this picture. Finally, tune in to Adam Driver - the big man with an even bigger heart.

Speaking of heart, this film has it in spades. Indeed, it is the remarkable humanity and excessive grace that Baumbach imbues the story with that makes for such a compelling viewing. It's a story about heartbreak, yet he chooses to begin it with two absolutely fantastic monologues. Words, in this case, read as voice overs delineating all of the many idiosyncrasies that they cherish and love about one another. These kind words hang over the entire narrative and are brought back around at the film's conclusion. This symmetry with which the director chooses to paint his portrait of the couple's entire history is simultaneously poignant and crushing.

Finally, if I can borrow a term from the world of music, what makes Marriage Story such grand filmmaking is its dynamics (see definition 3). The film's general tone is rather muted. We get the sense that SO much tension and conflict is brewing under the surface of these characters, yet Baumbach allows the tale to simmer. While tears do fall, far more of their actions are calm, calculated, and often feature inexpressive facial features. That is until about 2/3 of the way through the picture when it all comes rushing out in one of the realest fight sequences I've ever observed. The acting in that scene is impeccable, and Baumbach's writing is somehow such that even as they're saying these horrid things to one another, we're well aware of just how much they've cared. It's a top 5 scene of the year, and this top 5 film has more than a few grand flashes.

#3 Ad Astra

Let's make no bones about it. I WANTED to make this film my number 1. I really waaanted to so bad. Many years I would have. But, top to bottom, there were just two that it couldn't surpass. Still, I will say unequivocally that Ad Astra was the single most moving picture that I saw in 2019.

This film completely blew me away. I was not ready at all for how fantastic it would turn out to be. But, now I'll say confidently it was one of the best sci fi films I've ever seen. Moreover, it's one of the best ruminations on fathers and sons and their connectedness and disparities as well. In talking with friends, I think it's pretty clear that what you go in expecting of Ad Astra will significantly affect your viewing experience. If you're looking for loads of action, a sex scene, and high stakes suspense, this film is not for you.

Instead, we have a mostly quiet and meditative picture, that is nevertheless punctuated by these highly suspenseful moments. Examples of this would be the sequence where Pitt and co. are being chased by pirates across the surface of the moon, a fight with deranged baboons on an abandoned ship, and the pilot mutiny battle. There are these great suspense sequences. Then there are just LOADS of atmosphere and quiet, and these incredible visuals which match the mood step for step. The cinematography of the film is just phenomenal, and it really visually dictates this pensive ambience.

I thought the first hour was great in Pitt's exhilarating quest to get to the far reaches of the solar system. Conversely, the last half hour was sensational as a bigger and deeper reflection on the nature of our place in the universe and our deep blood-tied connections to our fathers. Spoilers aside, the end is sort of quietly heartbreaking, like the idea of Jacob wrestling with God until dawn. We witness a physical confrontation with Pitt's father and the astronaut finally breaking out of his emotionless shell to release all of the anger, hurt, and pain he's been keeping inside since his childhood abandonment. We learn it is these same things which has been estranging him from the people closest to him back home.

This movie takes emotions and makes them physical (visual). So feelings of loneliness or isolation become wondrous visuals of deep space, billions of miles away from any living thing. Anger and hurt towards a parent becomes manifest as two men physically locked in a struggle. The final tally becomes quite breathtaking: the mood, the music, the cinematography and acting, the nuances of tone, the way it blends suspense and calm. All combine to make Ad Astra a true gem and well worth the watch.

#2 Parasite

Sometimes the hype machine is just that - hype. Empty nonsense peddled by the powers that be in an effort to aid in our consumption. BUT. Sometimes the hype is real, and I'm here to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that the hype surrounding Parasite is entirely earned. It really is that good. It will sit in your mind for days after viewing, growing on you and pushing your thoughts forward.

What is so remarkable about Parasite? To begin, the film blends so many different genres adroitly. It borrows from a host of other pictures while feeling wholly original and important in THIS time. In turns, Parasite is a darkly humorous comedy of manners, a tense thriller in the Hitchcockian vein, a richly layered social satire, and much more. It is both epic and universal in scale, and almost a chamber piece with the collision of two families from different worlds. This is a universal movie about class warfare and economic disparity which cuts right through any language or cultural barriers.

So, I suppose what I'm really saying is - you have all this high-minded artsy "stuff" occurring, but the film is also really fun. It never ceases to be anything but entirely engaging and...amusing. It's a total cat and mouse game, where the poor, scheming Kim family somehow manage to infiltrate the wealthy, and not all that astute, Park clan. Posing as art psychologists and high school tutors, valets and housekeepers, they worm their way into the Park's lives and manage to extract great sums of money from them. The Kim's are resourceful and hard-working, yet conniving, dishonest, and, as it will turn out, desperate. Conversely, the Park's are presented as being a bit lazy, rather clueless of their surroundings, and yet ultimately, if not good, at least moral.

See, what is so great about Parasite is that it provides trenchant social commentary without ever being "preachy." In fact, once the interloper enters the tale, questions of just who is the "parasite" and who is the "host" are not as clear cut as they once seemed. As the third act comes into play, this glorious blending of "Art" and "Entertainment" reaches its apex. And, because Bong Joon Ho has so skillfully conveyed tension, humor and heartbreak in equal measure to this point, the finale entirely earns its plot revelations.

Finally, the performances are great from top to bottom, but allow me to return once more to the aforementioned abilities of Parasite's director. Not only does Joon Ho know how to create engaging pictures with something to say, he also has a tremendous eye for this work. Several shots with simply blow you away. A sequence in particular which stuck with me features the camera following the Kim family home across town. It is like a 90 second viewing of income brackets, as members trudge from wealthy lawns to lesser homes down back alleys and landscapes into the slums where they reside. I find this kind of visual poetry to be exquisite and rare. When you can combine suspense, smarts, high art, real drama, and a tremendous eye in one package. Yeah, the hype is real.

#1 Once Upon A time In Hollywood

At long last. We have made it to the mountaintop, my friends! The BEST movie of 2019. No drumroll necessary, because, well maybe it's a little predictable. At this point, however, I cannot deny this genius production of Quentin Tarantino any longer. I thought there was nary a chance he could craft a masterwork stretching to the towering heights of Pulp Fiction. Yet, here we have it - Once Upon A Time To Hollywood - a glorious homage to the waning days of the Golden Era of Hollywood, on the brink of the gruesome Manson murders.

It must be stated from the outset that this is a film imagined, lovingly crafted, written, and steered by the man himself. Quentin is all over this thing. As such, OUATIH (the acronym you never knew you needed) has all of his hallmark touchstones - a thoroughly inhabited historical era, LOADS of pop culture references, his usual cast of recurring characters, the hyper ultraviolence in the film's denouement, a timely soundtrack, pristine fashion and style, etc. etc.

As the film dawns, we're watching this story about two characters, Rick an aging film veteran turned TV bit actor and his stunt double, Cliff. The story of the two men kind of diverge in places and collide in others. But (and this is crucial), because of the historical antecedent of the Manson Family we believe that these two characters are ultimately going to become subsumed by this bigger story of the Sharon Tate murder. Alternately, what actually happens is something wholly different. The centrality of the film IS the two men. This is Rick and Cliff's story. It is about their friendship. And the only way that all of the peripheral characters, the commune etc., become important at all is when they cross paths with Rick and Cliff at the end of the film. So Tate's character is really as much of a decoy as anything else. In this way, Quentin ingeniously subverts our expectations.

When you back up from the film, what you actually see is this incredible way that Tarantino sets everything up. He spends an entire scene, for instance, displaying the extreme discipline of Cliff's pit bull. Likewise, the flame thrower used in one of Rick's old films is introduced to us early in the proceedings (if you've seen it, you'll readily recall how it becomes important in the end). When you see these little details, you initially just perceive them to be examples of the kind of excesses of which Quentin is so fond. His refusal, for instance, to take scissors to a reel, allowing a scene to linger on and on (time being one of the chief things Quentin regularly "messes with" in his pictures). Here, however, it's more than extravagance. He's shaping a picture for its conclusion. So what you end with is a story which doesn't do much of anything for two hours and fifteen minutes and then blows up into this massive, encore fireworks display.

In the end, it turns out that Once Upon A Time is an incredibly apt title. Without giving away the whole farm, I'll say what we're actually dealing with is a fairy tale of sorts. This idea of fairy tales and retelling historical elements in a creative way is not new for Quentin. We saw it, in fact, in Django Unchained and Inglorious Basterds. But, this subversion of a historical event is somewhat unique and a feat of sheer genius. OUATIH...a pure gold love letter to Old Hollywood from the odd auteur himself.

Other Awards:

Best Acted Film of the Year: Marriage Story

Art Kid’s Dream Films: Last Black Man in San Francisco, The Souvenir

My Favorite Comedy of the Year: Long Shot

Honorable Mentions (Besides Those Mentioned In The Intro/Above}:

Honey Boy

Joker

The Art of Self-Defense

Pain and Glory