*NOTE: This list is compiled strictly of titles I saw over the course of January through December 2021. Whether due to availability or awareness, this list is subject to change though will not be reflected here. These are the titles that spoke to me directly at the time of publication and are definitely worth checking out.
15. The Mitchells vs. the Machines (Dir. Michael Rianda)
As the world comes crumbling down around everyone, there are few people that Katie Mitchell would rather be around than her family. With a planned road trip serving as their last hurrah, things slowly go from bad to worse, watching machines overtake the world and abduct everyone who stands the least bit of a threat. Somehow The Mitchells avoid capture and instead become the heroes the world needs. They may be a bit bumbling and have trouble communicating, but deep down they have something greater. They have an ability to learn, adapting their own eccentricities to heroic status. With several amazing set pieces that include everything from a great Conan O’Brien cameo to demonic Furby’s, the film is jampacked with a crazy good time that serves as one of the most entertaining family films of the year.
Another aspect that makes it essential is the recognition of queerness. With rainbows appearing in the background of her many homemade films, Katie reflects one of the best lesbian characters of the year, finding ways to be herself with an eccentricity that makes her stand out from her family and the world around her. Given that Luca (2021) whiffed the chance to openly embrace its LGBTQIA+ status, it’s satisfying to have a film this shamelessly queer, so willing to take risks and just be a manic, chaotic good time. Given that many of the characters can also be considered autistic-coded, this is one of the few animated studio films that feels like it’s taking risks while not being overbearing about them. As the pivotal third act song suggests, the most important thing to do is just live your life. Don’t be ashamed to be yourself and, hopefully, everything will work out in the end.
14. Pig (Dir. Michael Sarnoski)
After years of sketchy decisions, it is a relief to know that we’re in the era where Nicholas Cage is contractually obligated to release one masterpiece every few years. In this case, he takes the seemingly empty premise of a man seeking revenge for his truffle hunter pig and turns it into one of the most emotionally rich tales of isolation and loneliness released this year. There is no big theatrics. Most of the best scenes are quiet, meditative, exploring what it means to lose something significant. From under a shaggy beard and a muffled tone, Cage feels like he’s carrying with him a burden that drags his shoulders down, barely avoiding tears as he looks everywhere for that amazing breakthrough.
It’s a minimalist masterstroke, reliant on conversations that may not always reveal riveting plot details, but always conveys something human. There is never a point of satisfaction. Cage never goes off the rails for a satisfying conclusion. All that’s there is an emptiness, something that shouldn’t be there. The world is cruel and trying to make amends with it is difficult. How does one come to terms with life after losing one of the most meaningful aspects of your life? Not only emotionally, how does one find purpose financially in a world that has passed them by? It’s a horrifying tale that looks into the emptiness. Even then, there’s more just beyond the periphery. Miles and miles, years and years of it. Who can handle it? When even Cage can’t find a satisfying conclusion, it’s quite possible that the answer is that nobody can.
13. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised)
(Dir. Ahmir-Khalib Thompson)
For many, the Summer of 1969 was the time of concerts like Woodstock. While they have become integral parts of history, there’s something to be said for another event largely forgotten by history. Mulling through hours of footage, Thompson pulls together a fantastic documentary that finds dozens of artists gathering to perform for an enthusiastic crowd. Like the best of these concert documentaries, it’s as much about who’s on the stage as what’s going on in the audience, showing a crowd immortalized in a moment, having the time of their lives. History comes back to life with exciting results, capturing the feeling of being in the moment, allowing the music to wash over and allow something almost spiritual to overcome a unified space.
The only real conflict is that this story couldn’t last even longer, diving into more performances and allowing singers to share dozens of other stories. Given that Thompson also contextualizes everything through contemporary events, the documentary ultimately is a study of how history informs art, creating a sense of purpose for every performer. Not everyone comes from the same background, as a result commenting on a variety of Late-60s issues that culminate in one of the best portraits of the era. With the 60s coming to an end and The Civil Rights Movement in an uncertain time, the future rarely looked this unclear. It’s why the decision to just get together and have a good time sounded like the best idea possible. In some ways, it’s an idea that never will go out of fashion.
12. Nightmare Alley (Dir. Guillermo Del Toro)
While the setting may fool most, this is Del Toro’s first dive into a genre other than horror. In theory, there are still monsters that haunt the frame, watching humanity’s empathy morphing into something monstrous. Even then, the director is much more interested in using this neo-noir as a chance to explore the ways that narratives are built, trying to create a story out of a scenario that lacks truth. Bradley Cooper has rarely been better than when he’s observing his co-stars, finding ways to turn his brief carnival gig into huckster gold. The plot simmers like a slow burning fuse, playing out over the two hours until the explosive third act. What it lacks in twists it more than makes up for with satisfying catharsis, pushing the viewer into the film's inevitable thesis.
Once again, Del Toro uses everything he loves to create one of the most visually stunning ensemble dramas of the year. His ability to turn a plot reminiscent of Tod Browning into emotional turmoil is sublime, finding the circus tents shining with a nostalgic gleam. It’s a story whose style is used as commentary, finding truth emerging in these archetypes revealing horrific depths of mankind. What truly matters to someone who doesn’t have core values? What do they hope to seek when all they want is to tear down their peers? Whatever the answer is lies between Cooper and a sinister performance by Cate Blanchett, creating a dynamic that’s just as slight as any barker trying to win your money off of cheap prizes. It’s a triumphant tale in its quietness, finding truth in artifice that looks pleasant but might sting you after not too long.
11. Zola (Dir. Janicza Bravo)
Few films capture the fever dream experience of the internet quite like Bravo’s dark comic tale of a weekend trip gone wrong. Based on a famous Twitter thread, the story unfolds with two strippers taking their turn at a trashier version of Rashomon (1950), where the surroundings blur into something more surreal, reason slowly slipping away as trust fades and all that is left is a need to survive. How do you get out of Florida when your only trusted companions are a mix of egomaniacs and airheads who seem more likely to self-destruct than succeed in their weird gangster mission? With the fluttering sound of a Twitter bird playing like new chapters to this narrative, the world unfolds like the most grotesque, compulsory story possible. Who are these people? Why do we care? How could we not?
Beyond its astounding commitment to tone, there are layers to Zola’s story that make it the most entertaining deconstruction of The American Dream this year. Everyone wants to make some schmoney, but who gets the power? What personalities do women need to use to manipulate the situation in their favor? It goes deeper as the patois of Stefani (Riley Keough) feels like an affectation, something fake compared to Zola’s professionalism. She is the only sane character in this narrative, but is she a reliable narrator? Adding exterior essays that have been released trying to make the real Zola seem less sympathetic only shows how it’s a matter of trust. Who are you willing to believe in this scenario as you sit in the backseat of this car barely staying on the road? Maybe it’s best to let fate decide, or at least stay quiet until the weekend’s over.
Coming Up Next: Princesses, Cowboys, and Blackouts
Comments
Post a Comment