Tuesday, July 26, 2022

My Top Ten Films of 2021

My criteria for eligibility require that a film must have been released in its own home country during 2021.  Film festivals and other special screenings generally don't count, but there's some wiggle room for COVID restrictions. 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.


The Power of the Dog - I can't get over how well cast this film is, how the film takes advantage of the particular strengths of actors like Benedict Cumberbatch, Kodi Smit McPhee, and Kirsten Dunst to construct the dynamics of its psychodrama.  It's also a film that demands a good amount of investment and perceptiveness from its audience, with some subtleties that require more than one viewing to really appreciate.  It's really been far too long since Jane Campion's last feature.  


tick, tick... BOOM! - I confess that I'm not as big of a fan of Lin Manuel Miranda's music as much as I am a respectful admirer.  His directorial efforts, however, interest me more.  "Tick, Tick… BOOM!" is a beautiful homage to Jonathan Larsen, using his early work as a jumping off point for a peek back into the New York of the 1980s.  I appreciate that Miranda trusts the performers and the material, never letting them be overwhelmed by the spectacle that other musical adaptations often rely on.


West Side Story - "West Side Story" is never going to be one of my favorite musicals, but I like to think it might have been if this was the version of it that I'd seen first.  Spielberg's filmmaking is so suited for musicals, it genuinely pains me that this is the first time he's made one.  "West Side Story" feels more like a proper Spielberg film, full of heightened emotion and youthful wonder, than anything he's made in ages.  I don't even mind Anself Elgort, though of course Ariana Debose blows him off the screen.    


The French Dispatch - Just when I think that Wes Anderson can't possibly get more whimsical or esoteric, he goes and structures a film after the format of an obscure arts magazine.  Three stories and other pieces of writing are dramatized and visualized with all the comic energy that Anderson can conjure, paying homage to the journalists and writers that he clearly loves dearly.  His production design has never been more sumptuous, his characters more joyously outre, or his sentiments more apparent.       


The White Tiger - Rahmin Bahrani's most ambitious film, due to its size and scope.  I worry a little about a film so critical of the Indian social order coming from someone who isn't actually Indian, but then Bahrani has been documenting the plight of the poor and disadvantaged in his films for years.  And this greatly informs the familiar crime story of "The White Tiger," which nicely delivers on the thrills and suspense, but also offers cutting commentary on the brutality of the social and economic divides.        


Luca - What I love about this PIXAR film is that it doesn't feel like a PIXAR film.  Instead, it has the more incidental, mellow vibe of a Ghibli or Aardman adventure, and some of the lovely visuals to match.  Some claim that this is aimed at a younger crowd, due to its lack of villains and world-ending stakes, but I think it's just content to be a humbler, cozier kind of summer vacation picture.  It's about three kids becoming friends, getting into trouble, and growing up a little - and that's all it needs to be.   


Titane - I don't quite grasp how all the pieces fit yet, or what all the metaphors mean, but "Titane" is such a stunning film regardless.  I admire its unpredictability, its total lack of inhibition, its knockout performances from stars Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon, and its oddly tender ending.  Julia Ducourneau depicts body horror, and specifically female body horror in a way I've never seen onscreen before, and manages to touch on so many other themes of identity, sexuality, and trauma.


Licorice Pizza - A loving ode to the '70s, the San Fernando Valley, and bildungsromans of filmmakers past.  Paul Thomas Anderson helped me get over my preconceived notions about the material, mostly by giving Alana Haim a helluva debut.  This feels like the cinema of another time because it's so unconcerned with most of modern Hollywood's preoccupations.  And thanks to its appealing characters, easygoing tone, and wry sense of humor, I finally understand the appeal of a hangout movie.


Inside - Bo Burnham hijacked my attention in a way that few others ever have.  Though marketed as a comedy special, it's not a stretch to classify this as a movie.  Forget that Burnham is a stand-up comedian by trade, and you'd just see a beautifully made, minimalist apocalypse musical. And it's performed and presented with so much care and skill that you wouldn't guess that it was almost entirely the work of a single anxiety-riddled Millennial - who has spent way too much time on the internet.    


Stillwater - I went back and forth on this film more than any other, worried about the controversies around the film and the uncomfortable relationship it has with real world events.  However, something about Tom McCarthy's films have always resonated with me, and I admire him so much for making something so bleak and guilt-ridden and unforgiving.  It's so much more complex than it appears on the surface, directly challenging the movie myth of the righteous American action hero.  


Honorable Mentions


C'mon C'mon 

A Hero

Mass

Nitram

The Paper Tigers

Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar  

Red Rocket

In the Same Breath

The Green Knight

Little Fish


Plus One


Identifying Features


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