December 31, 2017–Let’s just get this out of the way right now: 2017 was not a great year for cinema. Unless you knew where to look, or could somehow find yourself even remotely surprised (however pleasantly) by something truly out of the blue, chances were you were like me: tired, bored, depressed, angry at the time wasted on weak entry after weak entry being deposited in the multiplexes and (yes) even “arthouses” over the past twelve months. Some of the year’s strongest efforts came on the fringe, in the margins, and yes, even on television (as with a certain “film” on this list). Some genres (psychological/arthouse-friendly horror, crime/action, and superhero movies) flourished, while other films died on the vine. Upon looking back over the hundreds of films I saw this year, I found myself having to place things in categories purely due to a lack of desire to place any one film over another (with just a couple of exceptions).
As per usual, I have picked my choice for the “Best Film of the Year” (in this case, a tie between a rather controversial film that just so happened to have been written, shot and edited as a film before spinning out as an 18-hour televised limited event series over the summer, and a traditional theatrical experience like no other I had all year), followed by my choice for the second best of the year, and then alphabetically from there on, followed by an additional ten films more or less the equal of the “top 10”. With a shrug and an exasperated sigh, I give you my favorite films of 2017…Enjoy!
As per usual, I have picked my choice for the “Best Film of the Year” (in this case, a tie between a rather controversial film that just so happened to have been written, shot and edited as a film before spinning out as an 18-hour televised limited event series over the summer, and a traditional theatrical experience like no other I had all year), followed by my choice for the second best of the year, and then alphabetically from there on, followed by an additional ten films more or less the equal of the “top 10”. With a shrug and an exasperated sigh, I give you my favorite films of 2017…Enjoy!
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The Top 10: |
1. Twin Peaks: The Return / Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri |
My two picks for the very best film I saw this year ultimately concern the pain one can inflict in dredging up the past.
The first of the two is a controversial one. Whether one believes David Lynch’s 18-hour masterpiece is a third season (however belated) of a beloved cult TV series from the early 1990s, a limited event series (as the DVD release suggests), a TV mini-series, or (as Lynch himself conceived it, and such high profile publications as Sight and Sound, Cahiers du Cinema, and others have suggested) one of the best – if longest – films of the year, one simply cannot deny the sheer power of Lynch’s surreal, darkly funny, wildly unpredictable vision – a cold water slap to the face of the very notion of nostalgia-based reboots. No, this isn’t your parents’ Twin Peaks – but at the same time, it’s never been more Twin Peaks than it is here. The way in which Lynch and his collaborators trade on our memories of the quirky town in Washington state and its oddball residents standing on the threshold of evil, only to undermine them at every turn, ultimately in the service of a tale of the balance between good and evil as old as time itself is truly something to behold. In the end, whatever you wanna call it, this was unlike anything I’ve seen in years (maybe ever) and has forever altered my perception of cinema itself. That Lynch…he put his disease in me. The critically-acclaimed third film from Irish playwright (The Pillowman) turned filmmaker Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths) is about a literal walking wound in the person of a single mother (an astonishing Frances McDormand, never this good in all the time since her Oscar-winning role in Fargo some twenty years earlier) in the titular small Mid-western town who also dredges up the past (her daughter was raped, murdered and set on fire months earlier) in the form of the titular 3 billboards she rents on the road by her house, causing publicity, hard feelings (the police, whom she blame, have a chief dying of cancer), and finally a maelstrom of (as one character puts it) “anger begetting greater anger.” There are no heroes or villains in McDonagh’s world, as evidenced by the grace notes, wisdom and redemption he allows a dim-witted racist deputy (a remarkable Sam Rockwell), the aforementioned ill police chief (Woody Harrelson, stellar), McDormand’s abusive ex-husband (John Hawkes) and, yes, even “the town midget” (Peter Dinklage). The results are a colorful, driven empathy-machine of the blackest humor and the brightest shining humanity in a world turned upside down by police corruption, wretched politicians and fallen heroes. I’ve seen this 3 times thus far, and it never gets old. No cinematic experience I had all year affected me as strongly. |
2. Colossal |
Nacho Vigalondo, the writer-director of Timecrimes (2009) is back with this uniquely original, gut-bustingly hilarious high concept – a Charlie Kaufman film that Kaufman had nothing to do with, if you will (except, perhaps, as inspiration).
A sort of aimless post-millennial Being John Malkovich for the ages, the film stars Anne Hathaway in a sharp, funny, thoughtful and remarkably physical performance as an alcoholic layabout who feels rather rudderless when her successful boyfriend (the ubiquitous Dan Stevens) kicks her out and she must return to her small hometown only to reconnect with a childhood friend (Jason Sudekis, every shade of grey until full darkness comes) and a couple local barflies (including Tim Blake Nelson). So far, so under-the-radar Sundance festival, right? Wrong. For you see, a Godzilla-esque creature of some sort seems to be attacking the Korean city of Seoul. Furthermore, the attacks appear to coincide with the alcohol-induced bad behavior and blackouts of Hathaway, who must further endure Sudeikis’ … under-appreciated gestures of friendship (or something more?). Some people complain about the dark turns I’ve hinted at here coming out of left field, but I found this film bizarrely (even frighteningly) comprehensible on a behavioral and emotional level personally. Anyone who has ever been in the friend zone, harbored a grudge, or behaved poorly without really feeling the consequences of their actions until it is (perhaps) too late ought to relate to this. Mileage may vary. |
3. The Big Sick |
Michael Showalter of Wet Hot American Summer fame has (albet slowly) been working toward a more thoughtful indie cinema track and after his startlingly delightful Hello, My Name Is Doris (2016) gave Sally Field a uniquely effective role, he skews younger here with a unique romantic comedy based on the true story of its authors.
Kumail Nanjiani co-wrote (with wife Emily V. Gordon) and stars as Kumail (natch), a stand-up comedian who falls hard for a grad student heckler (Zoe Kazan) at a show one night and begins a sweet, lovable romance (the kind that makes you fall in love with falling in love). Unfortunately, Emily is soon stricken with a rare illness landing her in a medically-induced coma. As if that weren’t enough, Kumail’s break-up with her due to his strict Pakistani family’s pressures and restrictions to stay within his own culture causes him tremendous guilt – enough that when he gets the call she’s in the hospital, he is there by her side. Before long, so are her bickering parents (a stellar Ray Romano and Holly Hunter), who gradually form an unlikely connection with the man who broke their daughter’s heart. This is probably the sharpest, funniest, sweetest romantic comedy in many a moon and it comes from a heart-warming true story (Nanjiani and Emily have been married for 10 years). This is, as a Christopher Guest character no doubt once said, the kind of infectious it’s good to spread around. |
4. Dunkirk |
It sounds positively batty on paper, but in the hands of writer-director Christopher Nolan, a staging of the surrounding of British soldiers in Dunkirk, France and the rescue attempts by Churchill’s civilian fleet (among others) on three different fronts, intercut across time and space by a skilled team of editors and staged with state of the art effects work, filmed in 70mm on celluloid, and projected in that format as well as IMAX, is a cinema experience to behold. Nolan puts you right in the middle from jump street, and stays there for nearly 2 anxiety-inducing, heart-pounding, mind-bending hours. It’s an astonishing feat.
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5. The Florida Project |
Sean Baker (Starlet) revolutionized what constitutes low-budget independent cinema with his Tangerine (2015), a dramedy about transgender prostitutes in the seamier side of LA on Christmas Eve, shot on an iPhone and lent a gorgeous, sun-dappled aesthetic and ramshackle immediacy which might otherwise be lacking. Switching back to lush, big, open 35mm celluloid, his latest lends the same immediacy to the disturbing slice-of-life about a foul-mouthed single mom (Bria Vinaite) and her all-but-completely neglected daughter Moonee (the astonishing Brooklynn Kimberly Prince) as they navigate a boring, humid summer in the Magic Castle Inn, a rundown motel on the periphery of DisneyWorld. The harried caretaker of the joint (Willem Dafoe, in a revelatory nice-guy turn) runs around like a chicken with his head cut off, putting out fires (albeit mostly figurative) virtually 24/7. The film is funny, sharp, observational, detailed and, ultimately, heartbreaking as it exposes the cracks in the system and the working impoverished who have fallen into them.
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6. I, Tonya |
It sounds absurd. That a blackly comedic, irony-drenched he-said/she-said take on what lead to the “Incident” which disgraced former Olympic figure skating hopeful Tonya Harding (a remarkable Margot Robbie) and jailed her abusive ex-husband Jeff Gillooli (Sebastian Stan, one moment charming, the next disgusting and pathetic) with the aid and abetting of his goofy friend Shawn Ekchart and caused headlines and punchlines in the mid-1990s (when I was about 11 years old, though I recall it vividly) could – in fact – inspire sympathy let alone empathy. Yet Craig Gillespie’s (The Finest Hours) technically-superb laser-focused GoodFellas-esque true crime saga from writer Steven Rogers manages just that. Thanks to a rotten-hearted abusive mother (played to perfection – often hilariously – by Allison Janney), Tonya earns our consideration and respect. Given the givens, it’s kind of astonishing things didn’t turn up much worse.
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7. Lucky |
John Carroll Lynch is a character actor you’d be hard-pressed to miss if you saw him, let alone fail to recognize (he was Frances McDormand’s stamp-collecting husband in Fargo, and a virtually titular suspect in the David Fincher epic Zodiac; more recently as one half of the fast-food pioneering McDonald brothers duo in Ray Kroc biopic The Founder).
Now, making his directorial debut, he presents himself as a filmmaker of intuition and warmly humanist comedic instincts. The film is a slice of life concerning its titular character (Harry Dean Stanton in his final role as the curmudgeon to end all curmudgeons), an atheistic, chain-smoking, misanthropic, cranky old coot living in the tiniest corner of the American Southwest with skies as big and blue as the day is long. With only his daily routine of doing yoga decked out in underwear, doing crossword puzzles as the local coffee shop (proprietor played by fellow character actor Barry Shabaka Henley), and loud, philosophical arguments with his fellow local barflies (Beth Grant, James Darren, and Stanton’s Twin Peaks director David Lynch in Truman Capote-esque garb!) as his only real solace, he faces a sudden concern with mortality, brought on by a brief fainting spell and a subsequent visit to his doctor (Ed Begley, Jr.). Angry arguments with an insurance huckster (Ron Livingston) follow. This may not sound like much of a movie, and it’s difficult to describe exactly the spell it casts or the long-term effect it has on an audience, but one thing’s for sure: this is one of the defining roles in the career of one of our greatest character actors – and a promising calling card for another fine character actor’s side career. |
8. mother! |
One of the most controversial titles on any list this year has got to belong to writer-director Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan, Requiem for a Dream). For his follow-up to the uncharacteristically devout religious tale Noah (2014), he narrows his focus and goes allegorical with this Rosemary’s Baby-inspired tale of a woman (Jennifer Lawrence) living in a big, creaky country house with a Poet (Javier Bardem). When outsiders (Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer) invite themselves to the couple’s quiet home, and bring with them devotees of the creator’s work and destruction as well, things go to hell in a hand cart, so to speak. This apocalyptic, claustrophobic, thought-provoking, angering, nerve-jangling, fascinating, endlessly debatable take on religious imagery and lore was too much for some audiences, who were upset at some of the things Aronofsky was willing to show uncensored in the name of his allegory. The astonishing backlash to the symbolism taken at literal face-value by audiences of this film is more upsetting and face-palm-inducing than anything Aronofsky himself could’ve cooked up.
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9. Phantom Thread |
Another writer-director who examines the problematic relationship between a creator and his ostensible muse, and allowing the outside in or air out of any such insular situation, Paul Thomas Anderson gives us the (rumored) final performance of Daniel Day-Lewis as a 50s British couture clothing designer who takes a meek waitress (Vicky Krieps) as his muse and lover only to be transformed by her jostling for position in their dominant-submissive dynamic. As elegant and austere as one of Day-Lewis’ creations, at its core, this film is ultimately about a key difference between men and women and how difficult it can be to maintain a delicate balance in such relationships. Heady, thought-provoking stuff.
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10. The Shape of Water |
Another unusual film about another unusual relationship comes from writer-director Guillermo Del Toro (Crimson Peak, Pan’s Labyrinth). In 60s Baltimore, a mute (not deaf) female janitor (a luminous Sally Hawkins) falls for the mysterious amphibian man (Doug Jones) who is being tortured and studied at the facility in which she works (by Michael Shannon and Michael Stuhlbarg). With the help of a fellow maid (Octavia Spencer) and her gay former ad-man neighbor (Richard Jenkins, thoughtful and heart-breaking), she must stage a daring prison break in order to free the object of her affection. A beguiling, transfixing, sometimes funny (even darkly hilarious) ode to cinema past (creature features, musicals, social melodramas, spy movies, silent cinema), this is like Amelie meets The Creature From the Black Lagoon, and the results are startlingly affecting.
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Runners-up |
As Roger Ebert used to write, “At film festivals, the juries sometimes award a “Special Jury Prize,” which goes to films that are not quite in first place, but too good for second place. This year, ten films deserve that honor.” Any one of these, in a lesser year, would be in the first tier. Listed alphabetically, they are: |