30) THE
TURIN HORSE (2011, dir. Agnes Hranitzky & Bela Tarr)
Humanity’s impending doom takes on the form painfully violent winds
in The Turin Horse. In his final masterpiece, Bela Tarr takes us to
Turin, Italy, bringing us into the rugged world of an impoverished farmer, his
daughter, and their temperamental horse (the very horse that Nietzsche clung to
before his mental breakdown in 1889). They struggle for survival day by day,
out of contact with the outside world. Their farm filled with dreadful silence,
as if serving a confirmation that God has abandoned them.
Bela Tarr is less a filmmaker than a prophet of the apocalypse. His
most signature traits are bleak black & white imagery, weather as an
apocalyptic allegory, and long, long takes that stretch for a
desperate eternity. It is a style that is trying for detractors, yet
mesmerizingly striking for fans. The Turin Horse is no
exception to his track record, and while this is not Tarr’s greatest
achievement (a title earned by his 1994 opus Satantango), The
Turin Horse is perhaps the best starting point for his impenetrable
filmography. It is not an accessible film by any means, but what you see is
what you get, and what you get is a chillingly pessimistic yet beautifully
accomplished swansong from Hungary’s greatest cinematic export.
29) HER (2013, dir. Spike Jonze)
Her is one of the
most bittersweet movies ever made, chronicling the lonely and introverted
Theodore’s (Joaquin Phoenix) relationship with an AI console (voiced by
Scarlett Johannson), set in a truly not-too-distant future. On one hand, it
becomes a coping mechanism for Theodore after a recent divorce; on another
hand, what feels and beats like a genuine romance charmingly blossoms from
their interactions. All at once heartwarming and heartbreaking, Her emerges
as one of the decade’s most memorable romances and one of the most unique
studies of loneliness in film.
The future of Her feels
all-too plausible, but I hesitate to even say it takes place in the future,
because it all seems so distinctly familiar. I think this is one of the most
genius aspects of the film – creating a future we could foresee (without
feeling alienated) perhaps allows more room to warm up to the strange romance
of its characters, the real focus of Her. Phoenix finds the
right balance of sensitivity without making Theodore a joke; Johansson may not
appear onscreen, but the commitment to her voice work births a strong presence.
Though Her is undoubtedly a Spike Jonze movie, this finds him
at his most refined, restrained, and heartfelt as a filmmaker.
28) THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI
(2017, dir. Martin McDonagh)
Sick of local law’s
uselessness, a divorced mother grieving the rape & murder of her daughter
takes matters into her own hands, and her method is one of stark originality:
she rents three underused billboards, plastering a message that calls out the
local police chief’s incompetence. What follows is a tale of intense personal
anger – pointed both outward and inward – told not in black and white, but
those shades of grey that such a heavy film like Three Billboards demands.
Topping off Three Billboards is a collective of excellent
performances, but then there’s Frances McDormand, and there’s no other way to
put it: at the risk of sounding hyperbole, she gives one of the very greatest
lead performances of all time.
She alone is reason enough to
watch, but there is amazingly more to Three Billboards: it boasts
one of the best scripts of the decade. Fearless in tackling touchy subject
matter, it is peppered with a darkly quirky wit that the Coen Brothers wish
they had the chops to write. It is also full of surprises that don’t jump, but
rather creep up on you – the characters we think we hate grow on us, and those
we thought we sided with show more disturbing colors throughout, never feeling
heavy-handed. In its grey depiction of the social war between law enforcement
and the downtrodden people, Three Billboards is one of those
few movies I can say we need right now.
27) GRAVITY (2013, dir. Alfonso Cuaron)
A rookie astronaut becomes
stranded in space after a routine mission goes horribly wrong. That, right
there, is the entire plot of Gravity, one so
simple and minimal that I was positive Cuaron wouldn’t be able to pull it off.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I am honestly ashamed at these
preconceived notions of mine, because Gravity gripped me by
both the throat and the heart in a way few films have. Despite a setting,
characters, and situation that very few of us can ever materially relate to,
there is a profound, albeit subtle, universality to the stakes at hand.
But not everybody’s interested
in what lies “between the lines”, an understanding that Cuaron humbly proves
throughout Gravity. At an air-tight 90 minutes, Gravity bedazzles
with its spacious spectacle and special effects, perfectly encapsulated in the
film’s opening shot alone. Adding to my surprise with Gravity are
solid performances from Sandra Bullock and George Clooney – though nothing
ground-breaking in the long run, they give the film their all despite such
little material to work with. Unfortunately, I missed Gravity during
its theatrical run – bar none, this is my biggest movie regret of the decade.
Like the best of its kind, though, Gravity is enhanced by the
theater, but does not depend on it. Even at home, it’s still mind-blowing.
26) FIRST REFORMED (2017, dir. Paul Schrader)
In the face of a world
approaching apocalypse by mankind’s very own hands, an ailing and tortured
priest battles within himself the meaning of carrying out God’s confusing word
in Paul Schrader’s First Reformed, one of the most haunting and
soul-chilling movies in recent memory. Anybody familiar with Schrader will be
right at home here: an existentially alienated man on the verge of
externalizing his inner crisis. The twist here, though, is the application to
the definition of faith, which makes for not only one hell of a soul-ringing
movie, but a fascinating love letter to the faith-based dramas of Schrader’s
affection, Diary of a Country Priest and Winter
Light in particular.
Though First
Reformed makes some of the most effective use of the usual Schrader
template, there is no argument that the Godly weight of this film is bore by
Ethan Hawke, who carries First Reformed in what might be the
best lead male performance of the decade, one that goes about with a delicate
dread that suits the film perfectly, set to the backdrop of a weary color
palette and an exquisitely brooding score by dark ambient master Lustmord.
Structurally, First Reformed is far from new territory for
Schrader, but the religious makeup makes for an experience that is quietly
dreadful and hauntingly masterful.
25) A GHOST STORY (2017, dir. David Lowery)
Life goes on, whether we’re
here or not, whether we like it or not. Take what you will from that. These are
the very thoughts still cycling through my head after
seeing A Ghost Story, certainly one of the most enigmatic movies to
come out in a while. A man dies in a car wreck and spends the afterlife
dwelling the space of his home, watching many generations come and go, all the
while dressed in the classic bedsheet ghost outfit. Simply put; it’s a haunted
house story from the perspective of the ghost. As simple as this is, A
Ghost Story is one of those rare experiences at the movies that cannot
be simplified upon mere synopsis, and can only be seen to be believed.
Despite such simplicity, it is
one of the most profound and deeply touching movies to come out in the last 10
years, even stranger that it works exclusively off of its concept. Sure, there
are some striking moments here and there, but there is nothing remarkable or
particularly spectacular as far as cinematography or performances go, though
Daniel Hart’s score is worth a listen. For some, this is a red flag (and this
certainly had its detractors), but I found that all the more impressive. I’ve
only seen A Ghost Story once, which was when it was released
locally, but to this very day, I’m still haunted by it.
24) UNDER THE SKIN (2013, dir. Jonathan Glazer)
Scarlett Johannson plays not
so much a character, but an enigma that is known only as the Female in Under
the Skin. After coming to be and learning the everyday vibes of
civilization, she stalks the streets of Glasgow in search of unsuspecting men,
seducing them into a literal black void. Rinse. Repeat. Though there is a story
that can be followed, it is one that isn’t so much told as it is meditated, and
it makes for a film that is mystifying, head-scratching, even frustrating, but
too irresistible and mesmerizing to be dismissed – it begs for and greatly
rewards interpretation, but the mystery of the experience is just as alluring.
Under the Skin is
a cold, alien film that Stanley Kubrick would be proud of, a feel that is fully
encapsulated by Johannson, in perhaps the most left-field role of her career,
but also vital to the film’s sexily pulling quality is superb
cinematography from Daniel Landin, framing some truly unforgettable images, all
set to the backdrop of Mica Levi’s electronic score, which is nothing short of
haunting and hypnotic. Under the Skin is certainly not for
everyone – my head still isn’t quite wrapped around it, but I’ll be damned if I
wasn’t captivated from start to finish.
23) THE IRISHMAN (2019, dir. Martin Scorsese)
For the first time since
1995’s Casino, Scorsese teamed up with De Niro and Pesci once again
for quite possibly their most epic undertaking yet: The Irishman,
the story of Frank “the Irishman” Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a World War 2 vet
turned truck driver turned hitman. After a chance meeting with crime boss Bill
Bufalino (Joe Pesci), Sheeran finds himself steadily treading into the depths
of the mafia, eventually leading to an association and friendship with union
leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). After complications surrounding the election of
Kennedy, Sheeran is given his most difficult hit job yet – the assassination of
Hoffa, which leads to his mysterious disappearance.
Yes, it is a very long movie
(3.5 hours), but not one single minute is wasted. It is enthralling from front
to back, resulting in a story that feels truly complete by its emotionally
jarring ending. Though the mafia is familiar territory for Scorsese, The
Irishman feels fresh, due to its handling of the subject, being from
the perspective of an everyday joe who gets wrapped into this world.
Additionally, the film is very tensely restrained, a welcome change of pace for
Scorsese. The Irishman does not claim to be based on a true
story, as it is only based on allegations of questionable
legitimacy – but, man, is it a story that feels frighteningly plausible.
22) EX MACHINA (2014, dir. Alex Garland)
The past decade was especially
packed with terrific A.I.-centered science fiction, an already prominent theme
in the genre, and one of the finest examples is Ex Machina, the
debut feature from novelist Alex Garland. Set in the remote home of the crude
yet genius search engine CEO Nathan (Oscar Isaac), Caleb, a young programmer
(Domhall Gleeson), is invited to take part in Nathan’s latest scientific
breakthrough: Ava (Alicia Vikander), a humanoid robot seemingly capable of
feelings and emotions. As Caleb becomes more allured to Ava and her lifelike
emotiveness, tensions begin to rise between him and Nathan.
On a budget of only $15
million, Ex Machina exhibits a single solitary setting, used
to hypnotizing effect, inhabited by a cast of only four (including a
particularly chilling Oscar Isaac). The only special effect is that of Ava’s
cybernetic being, which surely earned the film an Oscar for Best Visual
Effects. Despite the lack of usual sci-fi extravagance, Ex Machina is
all at once fascinating, thrilling, and thought-provoking, allowing the viewer
to become fully absorbed into its world without unnecessary distraction while
never calling attention to itself. Topped by Garland’s Oscar-nominated
script, Ex Machina is surely destined to be a modern sci-fi
classic.
21) HEREDITARY (2018, dir. Ari Aster)
The remarkably confident and
expertly crafted debut from one of cinema’s newest horror auteurs, Ari Aster,
came in the form of Hereditary, one of the very best horror films
released in quite some time. Hereditary puts us into
discomfortingly close quarters with a grief-stricken family, observing the
tensions between their dysfunction as it reaches a boiling point toward
off-the-rails chaos, keeping a close eye on the mother’s (Toni Collete)
questionable stability. Like the best of horror, Hereditary’s
scares are deeply rooted in human drama, sometimes becoming emotionally
exhausting before anything begins to happen – in particular, there is a
confrontation at the family dinner table between mother and son so venomous
that John Cassavetes may find himself unable to watch.
Make no mistake, though; Hereditary is
absolutely terrifying, thanks in large part to a visual style that takes on a
curiously voyeuristic quality, as if it’s the POV of some kind of metaphysical
puppet master, exercising its misanthropic sadism on the family at hand. But
what truly makes Hereditary so gripping is a brilliant
performance from Collette, who sears with grief to the point of madness. I
admit it took some time for Hereditary to grow on me – I
originally awarded it only 3 stars out of 4. Sure enough, it crept in on my
subconscious and demanded a revisit. At that point did its excellence hit me,
just like the best of horror.
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