It's the odd case this year that the last group of films I was waiting for were all the U.S. films that had been delayed to take advantage of Oscar hype, instead of the foreign films that are the ones that I usually have to wait months and months for. I'm not a fan of the Academy's decision to muck around with the eligibility dates, but we've all gotta do what we've gotta do.
My criteria for eligibility require that a film must have been released in its own home country during 2020, so film festivals and other special screenings generally don't count, but this year there's a lot of wiggle room for obvious reasons. Picks are unranked and listed in no particular order, previously posted reviews are linked where available, and the "Plus One" spot is reserved for the best film of the previous year that I didn't manage to see in time for the last list. And here we go.
Nomadland - Easily does the best job of capturing the mood of present-day, post-COVID America, though it originally came out of material exploring the post-Recession landscape. Chloe Zhao combines fiction and documentary elements to capture the lives of modern-day nomads, the elderly workers scraping by in an America where economic security is now out of reach. It often feels like "Nomadland" is closing out an era of American prosperity, and American film.
Minari - The best characters don't speak much English, but it's hard to think of another film this year more emblematic of the American experience. Every immigrant and child of immigrants will find commonalities with the Yi family, even though their journey is so culturally specific, and so fiercely personal. For me, it evoked long-forgotten memories of growing up in the 1980s, of scattered relatives, and constantly searching for our far-flung tribe.
Wendy - I couldn't help falling a little in love with "Wendy," with it's overwhelming immature emotions, it's child-eye view of the great big world, and its sheer untamed vision. It gave me an earnest, joyous game of pretend in a year when I needed it the most. I understand why the story changes didn't work for everyone, but I loved how they opened up the "Peter Pan" mythos and brought the characters to a rougher, more fragile present day milieu.
Wolfwalkers - Cartoon Saloon finally feels like it's standing on its own two feet stylistically and narratively, delivering a film that is ambitious in scope and beautifully cohesive in its animation and design sensibilities. The film is stuffed with color and design and allusions to Irish history in a way that gives it so much texture and so much resonance. And the "wolfvision" sequences give it just the right amount of pure, undiluted animated spectacle.
The 40 Year Old Version - Radha Mitchell draws from her own life experiences to depict the misadventures of a black playwright trying to navigate the theater scene in New York. Her POV is so refreshing, so self-aware, and so deft in its skewering of common stereotypes, that it manages to strike a real nerve. The constant struggles for artistic, professional, and personal fulfillment are wonderfully balanced, and the cast of virtual unknowns are just perfect.
Mangrove - My favorite of Steve McQueen's "Small Axe" films, because it feels the most vital and the most immediate. McQueen doesn't just examine the lives of the major characters involved in the trial of the Mangrove Nine, but gives us a good picture of the Black Caribbean community, and origins of the social movement that they helped to accelerate. As melodrama, it's simple but wonderfully rousing stuff that never loses sight of its aims or what is at stake.
The Painter and the Thief - There were so many strong documentaries this year, but I have a soft spot for stories about artists, and the film's argument for the power of empathy and forgiveness is irresistible. While I have reservations about some of the storytelling tactics employed, it's breathtaking to see some of the moments of human connection and emotional catharsis that the film manages to capture. This is one of the most uplifting stories I've seen in ages.
I'm Thinking of Ending Things - I don't think this is the best Charlie Kaufman film, but it's clearly a film that only Charlie Kaufman could have made, featuring all of his favorite preoccupations and executed in his inimitable, self-referential, endlessly self-obsessed style. The talent involved in this venture is off the charts, and Kaufman manages to keep the screen filled with interesting things to look at. So even if the material is impenetrable, the mise-en-scene remains entrancing.
Another Round - A midlife crisis film disguised as a substance abuse comedy, from Denmark's Thomas Vinterberg. However, what makes the film such a winner is that its attitude toward alcohol remains so ambiguous, and there's a wry sort of delight in the characters' stupid self-destructive behavior throughout, even when things take a darker turn. The final sequence with Mads Mikkelson rediscovering his terpsichorean powers is just the icing on the cake.
The Father - I initially filed this away in my mind as a very good gimmick film, anchored by the excellent performance of Athony Hopkins. It's one of those pieces of filmmaking that is so conceptually clever, and so immaculately executed, it kept me at a distance. However, the more I thought about the film, the harder it was to stop thinking about it. The real beauty of this one is its empathy, its ability to convey the deeply personal tragedy of a man losing his battle against age and infirmity.
Plus One
Honorable Mentions:
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