15. Feels Good Man (2020, Dir. Arthur Jones)
Every artist dreams of creating something that changes society. In most cases, that is usually meant more for positive reasons, allowing a sense of joy to help someone having a bad day. For the creator of Pepe the Frog, it’s a situation that turned into a nightmare. A seemingly innocent cartoon becomes the poster child for right wing extremism, turning into a racist symbol so gradually that the original intention is all but forgotten. What’s left is an artist shamed into realizing that he’ll never escape association with an ideology that he personally disagrees with. In the age of viral media, this is a cautionary tale of how following your dreams is good, but only until somebody with cynical intentions gets their hands on it.
Beyond the story of a tragic meme, this is the story of a shifting view of politics. The impact of the internet and the need for immediate gratification has torn apart logic in favor of visceral emotions. With the 2016 election as the cornerstone of this story, it’s a perfect example of how the country grew more divisive, relying not on thought but sneers to present ideas. It’s easier to disagree than try to understand. Even with all of the bridges burned, the story ends with the creator trying to regain control of Pepe the Frog, to bring back dignity to a largely tarnished image. There is hope in the ending, even if it comes with a lot of regret and self-reflection. It’s the story of an artist rebuilding after public shaming, creating a universal story of how difficult it is for anyone to hold onto a reputable image in this day and age. Somebody out there is going to hate you. It’s up to you not to let it ruin your day.
14. Nomadland (2020, Dir. Chloe Zhao)
When life is tough, why not hit the road? In this Oscar-winning film, Frances McDormand decides to live out of her van as she tours America, taking up odd jobs to cover expenses. What Zhao has created is a meditative look into what it truly means to be alive. Removing the comforts of stability reveals how important basic needs are, where having a plate that isn’t broken makes all of the difference in the world. Every scene evokes curiosity and wonder, finding as many hurdles as there are revelations in a country that promises prosperity to those willing to work for it.
Beyond the sense of freedom is a commentary on what it means to be alone in the greater world. Without a place to call home, how does someone form a more tangible friendship? McDormand has rarely been better than when sitting across from these subjects, admiring their ability to adapt and survive. She’s eager to understand how to find that joy in her own life, passing hours until she returns to her Amazon warehouse gig. It’s as much an economic commentary as it is one of the personal journeys to be true to oneself and be less codependent. It's not an easy journey and full of beguiling turns, but every now and then it provides something profound and beautiful, making the whole exercise a worthwhile endeavor.
13. Flames (2017, Dir. Josephine Decker, Zefrey Throwell)
The film exists as a memory, being directed by a couple in the midst of falling out. These vulnerable moments mean something different to each other, but what could they symbolize as greater consensus? Decker and Throwell reflect on life as experimental artists in such a candid, fourth wall-breaking manner that this is as much a deconstruction of filmmaking as it is an understanding of what drew them together in the first place. As creatives, there’s something appealing about their chemistry. On any more personal level, the slow decline becomes tragic, unable to make their bigger careers work without the passion throbbing at the core.
It’s a commentary on who controls the narrative. When talking to strangers about who was the hero and villain of their relationship, the co-directors do their best to present a story that reflects true emotion even within an artificial lens. The results are as much about implicit bias as it is trying to cope with the separation, the memories ultimately still being striking in their endearing qualities of naïve youth. So much of the story is shaped, but it’s an example of how everyone forms the memory of their own friendships, questioning how one moment can be seen through many perspectives and have deep, emotional impacts that play out differently. It’s a bittersweet film, but one that proved how much Decker had to offer as a director. She would only continue to grow into a more accomplished filmmaker in the years since, but by bearing her soul, she reveals something therapeutic and personal that helps to make the journey ahead a lot easier.
12. Ratcatcher (1999, Dir. Lynn Ramsay)
Before she became one of the 21st century’s most impressive directors, Ramsay released her directorial debut. It was a story about a rundown Irish town where the waters are polluted and the floorboards hide rats and other vermin. It’s a film that feels dirty, constantly looking for ways to survive amid piled up trash bags. Somewhere amid this mess is something beautiful, finding families that have a genuine love for each other. There are some who may have their own issues with addiction, but somewhere inside this lopsided view of life is a balance that is sweet. This is a coming of age story with such a strange tenderness that they become photographs of a life often unseen, ignored in favor of something more glamorous.
Ramsay in particular has a craft for stimulating visuals. The narrative at times drops out for long stretches, allowing the camera to follow the emotional connections of characters, wandering through abandoned homes and running through tall patches of grass. By themselves, these are staggering images that have plenty to say about the working class, reflecting a time before things changed. It may at times seem uncomfortable, but Ramsay isn’t interested in demeaning her subjects. Instead, she creates a world that feels so lived in, at times like a stylized documentary, capturing something radiant. It’s the start of a career that would be full of powerful imagery, and her confidence from the beginning proves why she continues to stick around, being welcomed every few years with another breathtaking masterpiece.
11. Pariah (2011, Dir. Dee Rees)
Being a teenager is one of the most difficult times in anyone’s life. It’s a time when you’re misunderstood, struggling to find independence while discovering the horrors of the world around you. So much is going on that could change a life, making you into a totally different person. Whether it’s being forced to play nice at home or school, there is the struggle to understand what it is like to be loved. As a young Black lesbian, it’s especially difficult given the intolerance of a family who has their own problems, desperately trying to get by. Everywhere the protagonist goes, she feels like a pariah. The only place she is free is in queer spaces, which even then are surrounded outside by the dread of an intolerant world.
There is a gritty honesty that Rees brings to the story, allowing there to be glimpses of hope inside of a despairing tale. It’s far from another victimhood story, reflecting the need to survive and find communities of acceptance, breaking free of the traps that retain her. Whereas others may have an easier time getting by, the hill ahead is a steep one for her. With a great lead performance and a poetic nature, the story plays out with heart and purpose, reflecting a perspective not often seen on film. It’s a film that feels dangerous and also honest at the same time, creating the deepest, most sincere emotions possible. It may be a story familiar to different queer individuals, but it’s done so artfully and meticulously that it elevates into something more, finding hope in the darkness and promising a brighter future not only for her but also Rees’ career as an uncompromising filmmaker.
Coming Up Next: Unrequited Love, Mikados, and Brothers From Another Planet
Comments
Post a Comment