With the Academy Awards just under two weeks away, I thought it was about time for me to share my favorite films of the past year. Some were severely under-looked, while others rightfully got the attention they deserved. But I want to split them all up into a few categories.
First, here are the films that I genuinely liked this year that made 2011 pretty enjoyable: Hanna, Tyrannosaur, 50/50, Hugo, Warrior, The Future, Pariah, The Beaver, The Trip, Tabloid, Higher Ground, Win Win, & The Adjustment Bureau.
Second, here are films that were better and *just* missed my cut: Contagion, The Guard, The Artist, Moneyball, Margaret, Cedar Rapids, Midnight in Paris, Paul, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, A Separation, Shame, Carnage, & Certified Copy.
Alright, here are my ten favorites from this year:
10. The Descendants (Dir. Alexander Payne)
While it didn’t reach the emotional heights of Sideways or the bite of Election, Alexander Payne’s newest film still sits with his others as an accomplished, funny, and genuinely moving one. George Clooney gives one of his best performances as a father grappling with his late wife’s adulterous acts while trying to maintain family stability. It’s a memorable, believable, and insightful American drama.
9. The Tree of Life (Dir. Terrence Malick)
Probably the most polarizing film of the year, audiences either loved or hated renowned director Terrence Malick’s fifth (only!) feature. I was anticipating this perhaps too much, but I left with a unique experience unlike one I’ve ever had in the theater. Frustration and confusion eventually transformed into a higher appreciation; before I knew it, I loved its refusal to be taken for granted, its endless unusual interpretations, and, especially, its bold techniques that create an oblique but unquestionable emotional response. It’s cerebral, striking, and very resonant.
8. Meek’s Cutoff (Dir. Kelly Reichardt)
Who knew a film about the Oregon Trail could be so insidiously provocative and jarring? Kelly Reichardt’s film both evokes a natural, quiet, and calm sensibility and a nightmarish confinement as it tells the story of several travelers making it across the historical terrain. Michelle Williams and Bruce Greenwood give fantastic performances, but this is a film that should be lauded for its own construction. Reichardt’s direction is distinctive and exciting, as she weaves together thoughts and ideas that were as prominent back then as they are haunting now.
7. Take Shelter (Dir. Jeff Nichols)
Jeff Nichols’ Shotgun Stories was an observant and well-written story about three brothers in confrontation with another family in a small town; but his latest, Take Shelter, really puts his name on the indie map. Starring Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain as a couple dealing with the husband’s mental instability and visions of the end of the world, Nichols’ second feature is simultaneously terrifying and moving. It brings the horrifically unimaginable into the world of the working class yet doesn’t forget to ground the horror in human emotion. Shannon and Chastain are remarkable, and Nichols’ film is one to watch over and over again to feel its incredible power and witness the solid work of a new writer-director.
7. Drive (Dir. Nicolas Winding Refn)
Drive is excellent. I think we all know that by now. But the more time spent after seeing it, the more I really admire its reminder that a genre film can be an art film. I’m not saying those two are always synonymous but when they do intersect, the result can be mesmerizing (and this is the first of two films on my list that achieves this). Ryan Gosling’s powerfully stoic performance as the nameless lead is haunting, as is the brilliantly seedy Albert Brooks in an overlooked role as the mob boss after him. Tense action, heartbreaking romance, and enough classic filmmaking techniques to fill a textbook–Drive has it all. But what it has that most other films don’t is an unusual presence that is cerebral, ominous and nostalgic, something that doesn’t come around too often.
5. Martha Marcy May Marlene (Dir. Sean Durkin)
A smash at last year’s Sundance Film Festival, Martha Marcy May Marlene is much more than an indie breakout-hit. It’s astonishing–the acting, writing, editing, and cinematography are supreme–and welcomes a new voice in director Sean Durkin. Elizabeth Olsen gives an electric performance as the title character, a young woman who escapes a cultish commune to live with her older sister, and seamlessly navigates the mystery and damage of her role. But what Durkin’s film excels is crafting a story so magnetic and alluring that you can’t and won’t forget what you’ve seen on screen for days.
4. Young Adult (Dir. Jason Reitman)
Why should we care about Mavis Gary? She’s manipulative, selfish, pretentious, and, really, a grating bitch. Why should audiences care about someone so unlikable? It’s a challenge, but what makes Young Adult such a special case is another question: when was the last time a film like this was made? We stick with Mavis and are drawn into her tumultuous story about returning to her hometown to win over an ex-beau who is now married (Patrick Wilson) no matter what we think of the character, and that’s a testament to Diablo Cody’s mature and tremendous script that’s full of insights and emotion without a pinch of sentimentality or mercy. Jason Reitman guides the story along a tight rope between critical and cautionary with a precise tone, while Charlize Theron gives the best performance of the year as she perfects Mavis’ misguided confidence, warped mentality, and fragile vulnerability down to the last detail. This is the character study of the year.
3. We Need to Talk About Kevin (Dir. Lynne Ramsay)
Lynne Ramsay’s experimental, visceral, and piercing horror film is one of the genre’s best entries in years. Tilda Swinton leads an effortlessly strong cast as Eva, a mother with an unwanted son who commits an unfathomably evil act that pits her to question her own responsibility. The way the movie seamlessly conveys her psychological trauma and development is haunting and unlike anything that’s been on screen in years. The editing avoids linearity in favor of a much more character-driven, thematic narrative that is ultimately more terrifying and rich for audiences. I hadn’t seen any of Ramsay’s previous films, but Kevin rapidly made me check them out. Everything from the stark color palette, the evocative cinematography, and, especially, the powerful and wrenching performance from Tilda Swinton, make this one of the best films of the year that will only gain more attention and admiration.
2. Bridesmaids (Dir. Paul Feig)
My favorite movie from the first half of the year, Bridesmaids stuck with me well through the fall and winter. Starring Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph as two best friends whose bond is challenged by wedding craze, the film features nothing that’s recycled, familiar, or easy. It’s honest, it’s well-written, and it’s just so damn funny. The screenplay is full of real insight, wit, and, especially, emotion surrounding female friendships and relationships in general. The ensemble is uniformly perfect (with special mention to the hilarious supporting turns from Melissa McCathy and Wendi Mclendon-Covey). But, most of all, the story is so universal without one ounce of predictability, so funny without being cheap, and moving without being sappy. It’s everything a perfect comedy should be, and there’s no way in hell anyone will stop me from occasionally quoting it from time to time. Look away, Mrs. Iglesias.
1. Melancholia (Dir. Lars von Trier)
I’m admittedly a big fan of Lars von Trier. His defiance against film critics and enthusiasts, evident and alive in Dancer in the Dark, Dogville, and especially Antichrist, is frustratingly pretentious to some but entertaining and provocative to others, such as myself. I find his films to be full of dense thematic ground and unique ideas, but have always seen the effort to create controversy and uproar in his films. That’s what being a divisive filmmaker is all about, anyways. Yet with Melancholia, there was something new. It avoided audience expectations and told a story so profound, unsettling, and beautiful without any tricks. It’s dark and intriguing, but not in the sense of his past films. There’s a purity here, an honesty that reaches the audiences more jarringly and emotionally than any of his past efforts that were based in sole provocation. He’s finally open to audiences without slamming others and just selecting a few niches, for Melancholia is a sweeping study of emotional instability and yearning that lets the filmmaker thrive on much more than a reputation. I don’t feel a ‘guilty pleasure’ tone when watching it; instead, I’m simply enthralled. Technically perfect, the acting is outstanding (Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg give their career bests), the screenplay is insightful and vivid, and the overall film is unsettling and resonant. It successfully and powerfully touches on and explores each key emotion that all films set out to elicit–humor, fear, pathos, hope. I can’t think of a better compliment to give a film. It’s always nice to see one of your favorite directors step up their game when you thought they had already hit their prime.