The way I used to write movie reviews just wasn't working. This year, to save myself some time and effort, I decided to commit to a 400-word format for reviewing most movies, which can mostly be found at my Patreon and my Letterboxd. All of my attempts to monetize this have failed, but I still want to write about movies, and I still want to put my opinions on them into words. And I actually think I may have been able to write more this year than ever before because of it.
In any case, 2019 had a lot of great movies. This year I struggled with how to define the list - one of the films I have included hasn't finished its festival run yet, whereas other movies I previously had as honourable mentions premiered at festivals in previous years. By the end, everything lined up, but in the future I don't think I will worry too much about it. As always, I have found myself privileging dramatic films, perhaps because I don't find myself with too many opportunities to watch documentaries - had I watched it in time, Minding the Gap would certainly have made last year's list. And of course the list favours prominent English-language productions. I fear that my picks are usually too predictable, but at the same time I truly do believe these movies are great.
Also, sorry about the list being late this year.
Now, on with the list!
Just missing the list are James Gray's poignant sci-fi drama Ad Astra, the immensely satisfying franchise conclusion Avengers: Endgame, Waad al-Kateab's harrowing Syrian civil war documentary For Sama, Lorene Scafaria's stylish crime drama Hustlers, Robert Eggers' gonzo horror-comedy The Lighthouse, and Jordan Peele's playful horror flick Us.
Booksmart
dir. by Olivia Wilde
My review
Out of the latest wave of indie teen comedies - see also The Edge of Seventeen and Lady Bird - Olivia Wilde's whip-smart debut may just be the best, offering an endlessly inventive journey through a night that nobody could forget. The script is incredibly varied, offering everything from witty one-liners to a surreal stop-motion sequence, and the comedic timing is impeccable, consistently moving on from each gag at the perfect moment for maximum impact. But there is also sincere pathos here, helped in part by a thoughtful exploration of how teenage friendships can be affected by their developing identities, and in part by a wealth of three-dimensional characterization. By the end, even characters who seemed like comic relief show off hidden depths, and it makes for a world that feels authentic and lived-in despite its absurdity. Most of all, though, it's just really funny.
The Farewell
dir. by Lulu Wang
My review
Like Olivia Wilde, Lulu Wang has made an incredible splash with her debut here. At its core this is a thoughtful exploration of Chinese-American identity, and its main tension is a fairly serious comparison of American and Chinese attitudes towards death. I found it quite poignant and thought-provoking, but there is also an abundance of humour and warmth to be found, in large part thanks to the endearing relationship between the protagonist and her grandmother. Tonally this is largely comedic, but there's a melancholic undercurrent underneath all of it, and this bittersweet tone is perfectly balanced so that those elements complement each other rather than compete. This film was apparently autobiographical for Wang, who shows her hand upon revealing this fact, and it shines with all of the complicated emotions of both the immigrant experience and of a family member's impending death. I eagerly await whatever she does next.
Knives Out
dir. by Rian Johnson
My review
For a whodunit this is quite perversely structured, repeatedly suggesting a logical end point for its mystery just to undermine any tidy conclusions in favour of yet more delightful unexpected twists. Rian Johnson's fondness for toying with audience expectations is surprisingly much more lighthearted here than it was in his Star Wars film, but this still offers a scathing depiction of contemporary American racism, using a typically corny theme about one immigrant girl's fundamental goodness as a conduit to deconstruct the national fear of outsiders. But that subtextual layer is hiding under a large collection of delightfully over-the-top performances, none more cartoonish than Daniel Craig doing a bad Southern accent, and a tight script filled with witty dialogue and amusing eccentricities. But amidst all of these joyous performances, it's Ana de Armas as the only truly grounded actor who holds the whole thing together, giving context to all of this craziness. Johnson is on a real hot streak right now.
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
dir. by Joe Talbot
My review
Deconstructing identity is a common theme among many of this year's best films, but in this case, the identity being unraveled is one that had been deliberately built up by someone to justify his place in the world. Talbot takes on a wide range of ideas here, addressing gentrification, systemic racism, and gang violence alongside the notion of constructed identities. It's sprawling in ambition, with a freewheeling attitude which will take the time to just show the protagonists gawking at street preachers. It's filled with humorous dialogue and astonishing visual style, but it's also incredibly thoughtful regarding social issues and its own characters' psychology. Combined, these elements form an immersive portrait of one man's worldview and the city that forged it. It's bittersweet, at once lyrical and absurd, and it walks a careful tonal tightrope without a false step. Like last year's Blindspotting, it builds up an irreverent portrait of the Bay Area while seriously examining the city's problems, and that combination is incredibly powerful.
Little Women
dir. by Greta Gerwig
My review
Little Women was published by Louisa May Alcott in the late 1860s, and for all of the qualities which make it an enduring classic, it is still a product of a very different time. Greta Gerwig, who established her directorial prowess with 2017's Lady Bird, clearly has a unique relationship with the novel, and what she has produced here goes so far beyond merely adapting the original work that it reveals a lot about what that novel means to her. Gerwig has modified the chronology, made key omissions, secularized the story, and foregrounded the feminist themes of the novel, which combine to make for a story which feels genuinely modern. What Gerwig loses for ditching the internal narration, she gains in warm visual aesthetics and strong performances, and her method of pacing dialogue here is a very clever adaptation of the novel's atmosphere. The most dramatic changes here are incredibly bold, and yet this version still packs a lot of cumulative power. These characters and their experiences are still endearing and moving after all this time, and this version translates them into the syntax of our times.
Marriage Story
dir. by Noah Baumbach
My review
Noah Baumbach's typical wit finds a particularly dramatic outlet in this harrowing portrait of a marriage in collapse. He still finds a lot of humour in the subject matter, and as the divorce depicted here spirals further and further out of control, Marriage Story constantly pokes light fun at the absurdity of it. But that absurdity also becomes increasingly bitter and bleak as repressed emotions come to the forefront and the protagonists' goals come increasingly into conflict. Detail is the greatest strength of the film, which is filled with understated little moments that fill in the characterization, and those details find beautiful expression in powerhouse performances from Scarlet Johansson and Adam Driver. As the nuances of their relationship is increasingly laid bare, and as all of the little lies and banal promises they told each other are washed away, the film seems increasingly raw, to the extent that it seems disillusioned in the entire concept of marriage. But as dark as the film gets, it still ends on a note of bittersweet optimism, and there is a humanity behind these characters that always surfaces even in the ugliest moments.
Monos
dir. by Alejandro Landes
My review
Alejandro Landes' Monos is a truly astonishing abstraction of war, showing the lives of child soldiers while withholding as much context as possible. Instead, what Landes offers is gorgeous, at times almost alien images of mysterious rituals, bizarre errands, and twisted identities. Who these kids are fighting for is unclear and hardly relevant, as their guerrilla unit seems as much like a hidden society as like a military organization. The whole thing has an epic, even mythic quality, as these kids' lives are gorgeously photographed amidst the Andes and the Amazon. At times, they are surrounded by swirling clouds, and at others they seem to be consumed by an endless sea of trees. Even when some details about the unit are made more clear, much is left unsaid, leaving an impressionistic, fascinatingly ambiguous portrait of a horrific, violent piece of modern history. It is truly mesmerizing in its strangeness and its aesthetic prowess, and the images conjured within are often genuinely profound in what they imply about the experience of war.
Parasite
dir. by Bong Joon-ho
My review
Although Parasite represents a step back to supposed reality after Bong Joon-ho's previous two English-language science-fiction movies, his refined taste for absurdity is still intact in Parasite, and maybe even better than ever. This quirky comedy-thriller centers on a poor Korean student masquerading as an English tutor to a rich family, and the social commentary in this film is every bit as trenchant as that premise implies. The film's story takes all sorts of crazy twists and turns, and the directions it goes in are always thrillingly unpredictable, but it eventually evolves into a high-concept satire about class conflict, suggesting how shifts in lived experience can impact solidarity and sketching out a dense web of class relations. This is a less heavy-handed film than his previous two, but it is hardly subtle - and that fits the darkly humorous tone, which intertwines with the themes in fascinating ways. Bong has always been an imaginative filmmaker, but here he has hit a particularly rich vein of inspiration. Thankfully he has the skill to realize these ideas to their fullest potential.
Portrait of a Lady on Fire
dir. by Céline Sciamma
My review
This gorgeous slow-burn lesbian romance, set in 18th century France, takes its time to get to the meat of the story, but even in the slow build it is rife with character, period detail, and beautiful scenery. The leads have an immediate chemistry, and give remarkable performances which indicate a wealth of subtle psychological and emotional nuances, so when the central romance finally comes into force, its passions are immediately felt. More importantly, this ultimately blossoms into a glorious celebration of female love and camaraderie - not only in the leads' romance, but also in their friendship with a third character. The astonishing imagery mirrors the characters' gaze, conveying their emotions more than words possibly could, although the dialogues is almost as sharp. The social themes implicit in the combination of setting and subject matter eventually take over, as they inevitably must, but the joys of the couple's brief window of genuine freedom are so sincere and moving that the moments after that window hit with all the heartbreaking emotional force they warrant. This technically hasn't opened outside of the festival circuit yet, so keep an eye out.
Uncut Gems
dir. by Josh and Benny Safdie
My review
What a tight, percussive thriller this is, oozing grimy style and constantly propelling itself forward at a hundred miles an hour. Like in their previous film, Good Time, the Safdies maintain constant tension, but here their bag of tricks has grown exponentially more sophisticated, starting with a thrilling Adam Sandler performance as a self-centered jeweler who simply cannot stop taking big risks. The character is hardly sympathetic, and yet the constant promise of an ever greater payout serves as a strong, undeniable driving force, providing knife's-edge tension even before we consider the Safdies' usual stylized visuals. A dense, chattering soundscape adds to the claustrophobic atmosphere, and just for good measure, the story is full of unpredictable twists, adding to the sense of a world constantly about to spin out of control. And then on a baseline filmmaking level, this employs a variety of formal tricks which constantly keep the film's precarious balancing act at the forefront. This digs into the nail-biting tension of gambling and sustains it for a good two hours, and then makes it look and sound great on top of that.
Here's to another year of great movies!
In any case, 2019 had a lot of great movies. This year I struggled with how to define the list - one of the films I have included hasn't finished its festival run yet, whereas other movies I previously had as honourable mentions premiered at festivals in previous years. By the end, everything lined up, but in the future I don't think I will worry too much about it. As always, I have found myself privileging dramatic films, perhaps because I don't find myself with too many opportunities to watch documentaries - had I watched it in time, Minding the Gap would certainly have made last year's list. And of course the list favours prominent English-language productions. I fear that my picks are usually too predictable, but at the same time I truly do believe these movies are great.
Also, sorry about the list being late this year.
Now, on with the list!
Just missing the list are James Gray's poignant sci-fi drama Ad Astra, the immensely satisfying franchise conclusion Avengers: Endgame, Waad al-Kateab's harrowing Syrian civil war documentary For Sama, Lorene Scafaria's stylish crime drama Hustlers, Robert Eggers' gonzo horror-comedy The Lighthouse, and Jordan Peele's playful horror flick Us.
These are the films that made the list proper:
Booksmart
dir. by Olivia Wilde
My review
Out of the latest wave of indie teen comedies - see also The Edge of Seventeen and Lady Bird - Olivia Wilde's whip-smart debut may just be the best, offering an endlessly inventive journey through a night that nobody could forget. The script is incredibly varied, offering everything from witty one-liners to a surreal stop-motion sequence, and the comedic timing is impeccable, consistently moving on from each gag at the perfect moment for maximum impact. But there is also sincere pathos here, helped in part by a thoughtful exploration of how teenage friendships can be affected by their developing identities, and in part by a wealth of three-dimensional characterization. By the end, even characters who seemed like comic relief show off hidden depths, and it makes for a world that feels authentic and lived-in despite its absurdity. Most of all, though, it's just really funny.
The Farewell
dir. by Lulu Wang
My review
Like Olivia Wilde, Lulu Wang has made an incredible splash with her debut here. At its core this is a thoughtful exploration of Chinese-American identity, and its main tension is a fairly serious comparison of American and Chinese attitudes towards death. I found it quite poignant and thought-provoking, but there is also an abundance of humour and warmth to be found, in large part thanks to the endearing relationship between the protagonist and her grandmother. Tonally this is largely comedic, but there's a melancholic undercurrent underneath all of it, and this bittersweet tone is perfectly balanced so that those elements complement each other rather than compete. This film was apparently autobiographical for Wang, who shows her hand upon revealing this fact, and it shines with all of the complicated emotions of both the immigrant experience and of a family member's impending death. I eagerly await whatever she does next.
Knives Out
dir. by Rian Johnson
My review
For a whodunit this is quite perversely structured, repeatedly suggesting a logical end point for its mystery just to undermine any tidy conclusions in favour of yet more delightful unexpected twists. Rian Johnson's fondness for toying with audience expectations is surprisingly much more lighthearted here than it was in his Star Wars film, but this still offers a scathing depiction of contemporary American racism, using a typically corny theme about one immigrant girl's fundamental goodness as a conduit to deconstruct the national fear of outsiders. But that subtextual layer is hiding under a large collection of delightfully over-the-top performances, none more cartoonish than Daniel Craig doing a bad Southern accent, and a tight script filled with witty dialogue and amusing eccentricities. But amidst all of these joyous performances, it's Ana de Armas as the only truly grounded actor who holds the whole thing together, giving context to all of this craziness. Johnson is on a real hot streak right now.
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
dir. by Joe Talbot
My review
Deconstructing identity is a common theme among many of this year's best films, but in this case, the identity being unraveled is one that had been deliberately built up by someone to justify his place in the world. Talbot takes on a wide range of ideas here, addressing gentrification, systemic racism, and gang violence alongside the notion of constructed identities. It's sprawling in ambition, with a freewheeling attitude which will take the time to just show the protagonists gawking at street preachers. It's filled with humorous dialogue and astonishing visual style, but it's also incredibly thoughtful regarding social issues and its own characters' psychology. Combined, these elements form an immersive portrait of one man's worldview and the city that forged it. It's bittersweet, at once lyrical and absurd, and it walks a careful tonal tightrope without a false step. Like last year's Blindspotting, it builds up an irreverent portrait of the Bay Area while seriously examining the city's problems, and that combination is incredibly powerful.
Little Women
dir. by Greta Gerwig
My review
Little Women was published by Louisa May Alcott in the late 1860s, and for all of the qualities which make it an enduring classic, it is still a product of a very different time. Greta Gerwig, who established her directorial prowess with 2017's Lady Bird, clearly has a unique relationship with the novel, and what she has produced here goes so far beyond merely adapting the original work that it reveals a lot about what that novel means to her. Gerwig has modified the chronology, made key omissions, secularized the story, and foregrounded the feminist themes of the novel, which combine to make for a story which feels genuinely modern. What Gerwig loses for ditching the internal narration, she gains in warm visual aesthetics and strong performances, and her method of pacing dialogue here is a very clever adaptation of the novel's atmosphere. The most dramatic changes here are incredibly bold, and yet this version still packs a lot of cumulative power. These characters and their experiences are still endearing and moving after all this time, and this version translates them into the syntax of our times.
Marriage Story
dir. by Noah Baumbach
My review
Noah Baumbach's typical wit finds a particularly dramatic outlet in this harrowing portrait of a marriage in collapse. He still finds a lot of humour in the subject matter, and as the divorce depicted here spirals further and further out of control, Marriage Story constantly pokes light fun at the absurdity of it. But that absurdity also becomes increasingly bitter and bleak as repressed emotions come to the forefront and the protagonists' goals come increasingly into conflict. Detail is the greatest strength of the film, which is filled with understated little moments that fill in the characterization, and those details find beautiful expression in powerhouse performances from Scarlet Johansson and Adam Driver. As the nuances of their relationship is increasingly laid bare, and as all of the little lies and banal promises they told each other are washed away, the film seems increasingly raw, to the extent that it seems disillusioned in the entire concept of marriage. But as dark as the film gets, it still ends on a note of bittersweet optimism, and there is a humanity behind these characters that always surfaces even in the ugliest moments.
Monos
dir. by Alejandro Landes
My review
Alejandro Landes' Monos is a truly astonishing abstraction of war, showing the lives of child soldiers while withholding as much context as possible. Instead, what Landes offers is gorgeous, at times almost alien images of mysterious rituals, bizarre errands, and twisted identities. Who these kids are fighting for is unclear and hardly relevant, as their guerrilla unit seems as much like a hidden society as like a military organization. The whole thing has an epic, even mythic quality, as these kids' lives are gorgeously photographed amidst the Andes and the Amazon. At times, they are surrounded by swirling clouds, and at others they seem to be consumed by an endless sea of trees. Even when some details about the unit are made more clear, much is left unsaid, leaving an impressionistic, fascinatingly ambiguous portrait of a horrific, violent piece of modern history. It is truly mesmerizing in its strangeness and its aesthetic prowess, and the images conjured within are often genuinely profound in what they imply about the experience of war.
Parasite
dir. by Bong Joon-ho
My review
Although Parasite represents a step back to supposed reality after Bong Joon-ho's previous two English-language science-fiction movies, his refined taste for absurdity is still intact in Parasite, and maybe even better than ever. This quirky comedy-thriller centers on a poor Korean student masquerading as an English tutor to a rich family, and the social commentary in this film is every bit as trenchant as that premise implies. The film's story takes all sorts of crazy twists and turns, and the directions it goes in are always thrillingly unpredictable, but it eventually evolves into a high-concept satire about class conflict, suggesting how shifts in lived experience can impact solidarity and sketching out a dense web of class relations. This is a less heavy-handed film than his previous two, but it is hardly subtle - and that fits the darkly humorous tone, which intertwines with the themes in fascinating ways. Bong has always been an imaginative filmmaker, but here he has hit a particularly rich vein of inspiration. Thankfully he has the skill to realize these ideas to their fullest potential.
Portrait of a Lady on Fire
dir. by Céline Sciamma
My review
This gorgeous slow-burn lesbian romance, set in 18th century France, takes its time to get to the meat of the story, but even in the slow build it is rife with character, period detail, and beautiful scenery. The leads have an immediate chemistry, and give remarkable performances which indicate a wealth of subtle psychological and emotional nuances, so when the central romance finally comes into force, its passions are immediately felt. More importantly, this ultimately blossoms into a glorious celebration of female love and camaraderie - not only in the leads' romance, but also in their friendship with a third character. The astonishing imagery mirrors the characters' gaze, conveying their emotions more than words possibly could, although the dialogues is almost as sharp. The social themes implicit in the combination of setting and subject matter eventually take over, as they inevitably must, but the joys of the couple's brief window of genuine freedom are so sincere and moving that the moments after that window hit with all the heartbreaking emotional force they warrant. This technically hasn't opened outside of the festival circuit yet, so keep an eye out.
Uncut Gems
dir. by Josh and Benny Safdie
My review
What a tight, percussive thriller this is, oozing grimy style and constantly propelling itself forward at a hundred miles an hour. Like in their previous film, Good Time, the Safdies maintain constant tension, but here their bag of tricks has grown exponentially more sophisticated, starting with a thrilling Adam Sandler performance as a self-centered jeweler who simply cannot stop taking big risks. The character is hardly sympathetic, and yet the constant promise of an ever greater payout serves as a strong, undeniable driving force, providing knife's-edge tension even before we consider the Safdies' usual stylized visuals. A dense, chattering soundscape adds to the claustrophobic atmosphere, and just for good measure, the story is full of unpredictable twists, adding to the sense of a world constantly about to spin out of control. And then on a baseline filmmaking level, this employs a variety of formal tricks which constantly keep the film's precarious balancing act at the forefront. This digs into the nail-biting tension of gambling and sustains it for a good two hours, and then makes it look and sound great on top of that.
Here's to another year of great movies!
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