Top 10 of 2020

The Father may have a hand in "inventing" a new sub-genre of film, and I'd like to coin it as a "sentimental mystery." Though there are many mysteries and thrillers with deep social messages or powerful endings, not many are tearjerkers. "The Father," my personal favorite of the 8 movies nominated for Best Picture by The Academy and also my favorite movie of 2020, is a film that doesn't pull punches in confusing you. Starting "in media res," the script focuses on an emotionally exhausted woman (Olivia Colman) caring for her dementia-stricken father (Anthony Hopkins) as his condition worsens; his memories and touches of tragedy in his life all blend together in frustrating obscurity, even as he influences others' lives around him. Certain plot points that could easily be explained through some obvious expositional scene are instead implied, and it makes the movie so much smarter. Nothing is shoe-horned in. It's another testament that authors can, with enough effort, direct the film adaptations of their own work (look at Stephen Chbosky's near-perfect adaptation of his own novel with The Perks of Being a Wallflower from 2012). Florian Zeller is the playwright of the original 2012 play (which eventually made its way to Broadway), and he directs a truly marvelous film here. You're left guessing until the end, and maybe even afterwards, yet your emotions are engaged the entire time. Anthony Hopkins has outdone much of his previous work - instead of settling by being JUST the "cranky old man," he is sympathetic, reduced to the level of a small child due to his illness. The fact that such a powerful (and usually villainous) actor can do that is NOT something to overlook. Unironically, the main character's name is Anthony, allegedly because Zeller originally wrote the part with Hopkins in mind. And following a familiar 2020 trend of acting through facial expressions, Olivia Colman also turns in a tremendous performance. She is subtle in the strongest ways. The production design, although limited because of its original status as a stage play, is brilliant, with subtle clues that point to the mentally hollow shell of a mind that the lead character has - and where his fate truly lies. It's an unflinching and rather brutal look at the process of aging, but not once does "The Father" suggest that Anthony would be better off dead or euthanized. And I commend it for that. It's bleak, it's depressing, but that's what comes with the hardest parts of life, and the film knows this. It never settles for an easy answer or an easy solution. And that's perhaps the most beautiful part of it.

While there are many recent TV shows (Mad Men), movies (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark), and even music (Lana Del Rey's "Lust for Life" album comes to mind) that reference the schism between the free love movement and the political turmoil of the 1960s/70s, none feel as dire or necessary as The Trial of the Chicago 7. This excellent movie isn't just a referential work; the similarities between then and now are engrained in every cinematic aspect. It's neither anti-cop nor is it a pro-violent protest film. It's a work of art providing us a magnifying glass to show what happens when the governing authorities, in all their power, are willing to just allow (or even facilitate) brawls in the streets. Sure, the movie takes a side (it's not hard to guess whose), but not without showing the flaws of everyone on both ends of the social spectrum. Aaron Sorkin is known as the screenwriting genius of modern Hollywood, and rightfully so. His writing keeps you on the edge of your seat effortlessly, and his direction has improved astoundingly (though his directorial debut, Molly's Game, wasn't bad). I watched this movie when I was really tired, convinced I would doze off; but instead, I was pleasantly more awake in just the first few minutes. And by the end, I was ecstatic (the final scene is particularly moving). The entire movie is edited so sharply that it'll be a shoe-in for all sorts of technical accolades, cautiously revealing a little bit more of the truth through multiple overlapping perspectives. And for a movie that takes place mostly in a courtroom, you'd expect good performances - and the ensemble cast exceeded expectations. Every single actor gives it his "all," with the standouts being Sacha Baron Cohen, Eddie Redmayne, Frank Langella, and Mark Rylance. I was particularly impressed at how well Sacha Baron Cohen (a.k.a. Borat) balances his humor and dramatic acting chops, being the movie's main source of hippy comic relief, yet he's grounded in realism. This is one of those rare movies that uses an often overlooked piece of history to put the mirror up to the present day and ask: what has changed...really?

Carey Mulligan was severely overlooked for her stunning performance in 2018's "Wildlife," but it looks like she will get deserved recognition for her terrifying turn in Promising Young Woman. Cassie, her justifiably unhinged character, is a complex role that combines extreme levels of manipulation and apathy on one side, yet on the other there is sincerity, sweetness, and rage in the search for justice. Instead of opting for a "crazy bitch" stereotype, "Promising Young Woman" gives its central character a full arc as she confidently (yet also fearfully at times) sets a course of action to avenge her friend who was sexually assaulted in college years before. There are elements of Rosamund Pike's character in Gone Girl here, but while Pike's brilliant performance was meant to lean into its specific trope of a cliché "mad woman," Mulligan gives Cassie depth and inherent realism. Her performance ties the whole film together, and that's needed for something with the twists and turns at play here. Always one step ahead of our expectations, the script is incredibly entertaining yet viscerally disturbing - without showing much at all. The singular violent scene of the movie therefore stands out - making it all the more effective in what it represents and how it affects the story. This is a thriller, first and foremost, but its social message is quite clear about how victims are so often silenced. Though nearly all the men in this particular film are "evil" to a certain extent, this movie avoids being preachy or absolute; it doesn't declare that ALL men are evil or even problematic. It ultimately challenges its audience to look inward and separate the "nice guys" (a phrase that Cassie mocks throughout the movie) from the "good men." Topped off by a smart soundtrack and some extremely compelling (even deeply religious) cinematography/framing, "Promising Young Woman" is a welcome conversation starter that thrills and chills from its first moment to its very last frame.

Every year, Pixar generally tries to outdo itself in some way with one of its films. And while we've seen some recent animated films boast groundbreaking effects (Coco to name one), Soul manages to outdo all of them. Not since WALL•E (pretty much my favorite animated film of all time) has Pixar crafted such innovative, creative, and lush animation that you're hoodwinked into thinking you're watching a live action film. Multiple uses of dim lighting make the attributes of the human characters appear perfectly real - members of a jazz band onstage look like real people when the light is just right. And that's just the scenes on Earth! For the more fantastical sequences (because this movie IS about a man whose soul departs from his body), we're given unique cell-shading and two-dimensional settings with equally surreal yet beautiful characters. The visuals alone are enough to keep you engaged in this wonderful film, but I suppose I should comment on the story as well. Though there are little plot holes or indiscrepancies that were hard for me to disconnect from (I'm usually unbothered by them completely), "Soul" manages to subvert expectations by giving us two characters who are from completely different realities yet share solidarity with each other. The movie shows us that life is worth living, even with all its uncertainties and painful moments. That message is nothing new (Ad Astra in particular came to mind), but that doesn't make it any less important, and of course it's fun to see how Pixar breathes anthropomorphic life into the concept of a person's soul to get this message across. And one final sidenote: I found myself laughing out loud more at this film than many recent Pixar films, or even many recent comedies, for that matter. It's a masterful mix of comedy and profound messages.

If there's any movie that I would consider "required viewing" for Americans before election day, Irresistible is it. This one of the most brilliant political satires of the modern/Trump era of filmmaking; it's as biting as Jojo Rabbit but tamed in its zaniness. In fact, the humor and overall dynamic is very similar to the 4th season of Parks and Recreation, where a small-town local election is given national attention because of the money and momentum behind its candidates. And it makes sense that this film isn't too zany or outlandish, because the whole point is that this could potentially happen in American politics. Jon Stewart has always been a funny yet passionate commentator, so his intentions with this film are very clear yet still hysterical. When a Democratic strategist (Steve Carell) zeroes in on a slightly progressive war veteran (Chris Cooper) in rural Wisconsin, it seems like a blue victory is worth all the money in the world. I'm not surprised that people had a problem with this movie and kept it buried - it beautifully puts everyone on the chopping block: Democrats, Republicans, Super PACs, the "woke" crowd, you name it. There's one scene that so perfectly attacks the modern Democratic ideology that of course many film critics and aficionados might take offense. But the beauty behind the satirical edge is that it's all about the money. Money that the working class in these rural communities desperately need. And isn't that capitalism in a nutshell? Carell's character, as happy as he may be to try and subvert the system, is there to count zeroes. Both Carell and Rose Byrne have hilarious chemistry as rivaling strategists (Byrne plays a Republican), but the real MVP is Chris Cooper, stealing our attention early on and pulling through every time. "Irresistible" is certainly the boldest film of 2020 I've seen so far, being both funny and incredibly timely. But maybe it's too timely for some? The movie begins with the final debate between Trump and Clinton; if Trump hadn't won in 2016, would this film have been made? We'd sadly be missing out on Jon Stewart's fabulous writing and Carell's awkward antics if so.

Chadwick Boseman was a talent like few other. From his first wide-eyed glance at some fancy dress shoes in a shop window to his final shot of the movie, Boseman delivers a captivating performance that is multi-layered and truly complex. And his work is just the tip of the iceberg for "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" (Ma Rainey Film), a ticking time-bomb drama about what cultural appropriation actually is (versus the baseless, virtue-signaling claims today that only create division). Based off August Wilson's play, the events of the film are fictional, but the hard truths are not. Both Ma (Viola Davis) and Levee (Boseman) are treated as commodities for the white record label; and while the movie specifically focuses on black voices being used for white gain, there are enough references that are critical of the music industry as a whole, making everything even more poignant. Davis and Boseman parallel each other beautifully - while Davis would rather stick to the past and the "soul" of Blues, Boseman's character desperately wants to change with the times and do what's required to stand on top. If people want to dance, he wants to make 'em dance. Regardless of their passions, both are uncontrollable in their anger and ambitions, and I like that the movie doesn't shy away from their inherently human flaws; it doesn't treat them like gods. Boseman in particular is a mix of crazy, annoying, and in-over-his-head, yet he still manages to give us glimpses of a likeable, funny, and sympathetic person. Now, it would be wrong to say that Chadwick Boseman stole the show, because Viola Davis presents a side that I've never seen from her before. Boseman has a dynamic presence when he's onscreen, but Davis' work here is so powerful that she looms over the entire film, even in scenes where she's absent. She is a threatening force to be reckoned with, and you will end the film wishing there was more of her. True to its original format as a stage play, most of the movie takes place in one setting, with the camera swerving around in circles to capture the performances and action as it happens in real time. And the pacing is near-perfect; the movie is a brisk 90 minutes without wasting a single second. For a movie about the Blues, there isn't as much music as you might think, but the decision to make most of the music diegetic is a smart and realistic touch. Given its short runtime and incredible lead performances, "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" is a worthwhile watch to be aware of as the "awards bait" movies flood streaming services.

We all know someone like the characters of Nomadland. And that's the beauty of the film. Of course, a solid chunk of the "characters" are real-life nomads who travel the open spaces of America, but even the actors of the film (namely Frances McDormand and David Strathairn) are convincing enough that we're reminded of our more eccentric friends, relatives, etc. Though the movie doesn't have any "talking head" segments, its style is very documentarian: lingering shots where people tell their stories, tight angles to capture intimate moments, sweeping and sensational music, and no sense of urgency to get to the next plot point. In fact, the first half the film hardly has a plot. We're merely observers in Fern's (Frances McDormand) world. But it's not shown to be a paradise, rather, an alternative lifestyle that values community over competition. And it still takes a lot of work to get there. There are the expected anti-capitalist messages and moments; it keeps you pondering if there is anything that corporate America DOESN'T own. My favorite scene shows a group of nomads wandering around an expo for luxury RVs and buses, all sponsored by Progressive (yes, the insurance company with Flo). Here is their lifestyle, on display with products they could never afford. Yet the movie makes light of it and pokes fun at the idea instead of being rebellious, victimized, or defeatist about it (contrary to many liberal/progressive mindsets today). Amazon also gets its fair share of screentime as well. At the center of all this profoundly American commentary is the personal journey of Fern, and it's done so beautifully that we are emotionally invested without losing sight of the "big picture." McDormand gets her role down perfectly, because although she is one of the few actors in the film, she still has that personality where we watch her and think, "yeah, I know someone like her." She is a wanderer at heart, and that rugged heart is one of gold.

Like his 2013 film "The Hunt," Thomas Vinterburg's "Another Round" is an ethical nightmare trenched in educational institutions. Focusing on 4 high school teachers who decide to maintain a constant level of alcohol in their blood (because "science" says so), "Another Round" plays out very much like a drunken night out. You have to hit your sweet spot of tipsiness, which takes a quick getting-used-to, then you enjoy it - life is good, until you have another drink that puts you into more dangerous territory. Then there's the bottoming out phase. Everything bad that can happen of course does here, but it's the subtleties and companionship of these characters that make this movie a masterful work of art. It's the journey these 4 men take together that keeps us watching, not their drunken escapades. The ambiguous ending does make me wonder if there was any sort of "lesson" learned, but I like to think so. The movie is ultimately a celebration of life and not a depressing, despairing vision that endorses alcohol as a means to cope with the hardest parts. It's not just a dramatic scene of drunkenness that acts as a rite of passage, rather, it's a conversation and serious talking point. In fact, despite this being a Danish film made for a more European audience, I like to think one of the most disturbing subtleties is that the teens in this movie abuse alcohol as a regular pastime. In fact, it's a common coming-of-age trope to show seniors in high school getting drunk, but because that idea exists only in the background of this film, it's ten times more unsettling. We're focused on the adults, but we don't really forget about the kids (and the drinking age in Denmark is 18). The opening scene shows us high school seniors completely wasted and publicly intoxicated, but then we're focused on the adults who need to reprimand them...and also want to take part in a social experiment about constant alcohol consumption. Mads Mikkelsen elevates past his normally "weird/creepy/mellow" schtick and delivers a wide range of emotions here - he's always been good, but here I found him to be truly impressive. And he's also a fantastic dancer (watch the movie)! Insightful with a great sense of dark humor, "Another Round" is a very smart project with great rewatchable value.

Pixar is still churning out quality, even before Soul! Onward isn't a new concept in terms of its animation or humor, but it explores sibling relationships on a very deep level, which Pixar has not really tried to tackle before. Ian (Tom Holland) and Barley (Chris Pratt) are opposites in the most obvious ways; Holland leans into the nervous energy that makes his Peter Parker/Spider-Man so likable, and Pratt excels as the chaotic goofball. But their strong chemistry helps their opposite traits to essentially combine, making for a wholesome and complex character growth about how siblings teach each other in the face of loss or grief. Missing a parent is also familiar territory for Pixar (the boys are trying to bring their father back to life for one day), but "Onward" uses the common trope as a segue into masculine growth. Ian is the "quiet one" who comes off most mature compared to his unfocused brother, but his brother teaches him that some rough-and-tumble risk-taking is crucial for embracing your best self and growing into a young man. Even outside the sibling relationship, the movie takes a crack at modernity and the importance of traditions/history through Octavia Spencer's monstrous character. It teaches that integration is needed for culture to thrive, not rejection. "Onward" is a wonderfully heartwarming treat and a fine addition to the Pixar catalog.

No pandering, no cookie-cutter scenarios, no clean endings. "One Night in Miami" revolves around the ongoing and painful discussion of race relations in America, and is further proof that not much has changed - but is it partially because there are some who don't even want anything to change? Though he begins the film as a side character, this movie pits Malcolm X as its lead; he is both protagonist and antagonist. He clearly wants to eradicate racism against African Americans, but his divisive words and inability to accept compromise creates a rift between him and his fellow brothers (namely, Muhammad Ali, Sam Cooke, and Jim Brown) who also want the same thing. They surmise that there is no light at the end of the tunnel for Malcolm X; there is no true victory in his eyes. Sam Cooke is on the opposite end of the spectrum, and the contention between him and Malcolm X is the movie's main drive. In Malcolm's eyes, Cooke isn't doing nearly enough as a renowned black singer. He associates with white executives and sings about "light" topics instead of using his platform to address "the struggle." Meanwhile, Ali is caught in the middle as he plans to convert to Islam, and Jim Brown is the cool-headed moderator who is struggling with his own professional and personal identity. The film hinges almost entirely on its electrifying script and ensemble cast; so much so that it's easy to forget that much of the dialogue is fictional. That's right - just like The Two Popes, this is another addition to the "hypothetical history" genre of filmmaking where a real event is given fabricated story arcs and then imagined into a feature-length epic conversation about culture and social justice. But while "The Two Popes" failed because it stupidly tried so hard to make Pope Benedict XVI into a villain, "One Night in Miami" succeeds because of its fast pace, natural chemistry, and plethora of grey areas. No one is clearly right, no one is clearly wrong. Even though we end the film perhaps swayed more to one side over another, I love that a film is trying to challenge its audience with such passion. A little plus for me is that it also calls out white progressive virtue-signaling - something that Jordan Peele deserves a lot of credit for putting a spotlight on in Get Out back in 2017 (and something that is all too common nowadays). I can look past the movie's fictitious script because it's so well done and clearly not trying to be a re-write of history. If you have Amazon Prime, keep an eye out for this movie. It's worth the time and will definitely gain a more passionate following in the coming months.