Top Ten Films of the Year: 2020
Choosing my top ten films of the year is simultaneously one of my favorite and most-dreaded acts of the year. As the months tick by I compose rough drafts, quarterly rankings and go into every single film wondering, “Will this be top ten-worthy?”… and then December hits, where procrastination kicks in to such a degree that last year, I didn’t even write the intended blog post at the end of it all. These lists have always been exclusively cinematic – after all, the majority of my film watching takes places in a darkened hall (see: my famous (?) race to 100 from two years ago). This has meant that certain titles have missed out, including but my all-time favorite film Moneyball and countless others that I have “had” to excude due to this strict rule-keeping.
Of course, for reasons unfortunately now familiar, such cinematic indulgence was not possible this year. Don’t get me wrong, I still managed to collect 31 tickets, but due to being locked at home like so much of the world this year’s ranking has been adapted to include sofa- and bed-stricken viewings (humble brag: my 2020 total is 268 films, and if you look closely enough at the above graphic they’re all there.) Like The Academy I will be making moves to reward streaming titles in future lists, but even this year there are only two non-cinematic titles below. Maybe the big screen is the best place for films, or maybe I’m just stubborn – to quote a famous Bruce Willis actioner, old habits are unbreakable.
It was a strange year for films all round, and I can guarantee some emotional longing a little later. But in a year where a second consecutive Christopher Nolan film didn’t crack my end-of-year list and where my favorite film was actually a docu-series about Michael Jordan, here are the (late as usual) final top ten.
10: The Lighthouse
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| Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff - 10/02/20 |
I know I'm not unique in this reaction, but I found Robert Eggers’s follow-up to The Witch to be so instantly iconic that I found myself immediately referencing it in all manner of ways – from crudely-filtered scene recreations on Snapchat, to a peculiarly-ironic Pokémon Go tribute. Not bad really, considering I came out of my first viewing rather bewildered – I can confirm that “immediately after an eight hour shift” is not the opportune time to indulge in this hearty slice of surrealism.
Rightly nominated for its Bergman-esque cinematography at The Oscars (credit Jarin Blaschke), The Lighthouse for one reason or another will likely stand as one of the most (in)famous films of our time. From its on-screen vantage, that’s no surprise – Sea King Willem Dafoe and a masturbating Batman-elect will do that for a picture. But coupled with its off-screen tales of the film’s insane production or its stars’ wild behaviour that themselves seem like tales of lore, perhaps Eggers’s sophomore effort is more deserving of the subtitle “A New England Folk Tale” than its predecessor.
9: Happiest Season
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| Home, Blackwood - 18/12/20 |
If naming a horror (Midsommar) as my favourite film of last year was a shock, then including a Christmas romcom in the list this year was a “Leicester City winning the Premier League”-level long shot. Much like the midland Foxes’ fairy tale, however, the reality of this success became more and more inevitable as it unfolded before me.
As Abby (Kristin Stewart) waits for her partner Harper (Mackenzie Davis) to announce their relationship to her parents and plays roommate over Christmas, Clea DuVall’s queer holiday offering injects originality into tired genres and stories in an effortlessly stylish and genuinely-rewarding manner. What’s more, it also features two show-stealing performances from two of my favourite sitcom stars: a smouldering Aubrey Plaza (Parks and Recreation) and your new best friend, the always-winning Dan Levy (from this year’s must-watch televisual recommendation, Schitt’s Creek). Although its faced criticism from further contributing to the cliché of personal trauma in LGBTQ+ storytelling, Happiest Season fully deserves its status as a fantastic example of what a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie can look like when authentic voices are allowed to bring it to realization.
8: Uncut Gems
Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff - 23/01/20
Where it not for the efforts of some films still to come, and had history had other plans, then perhaps Uncut Gems might have been the talking point of 2020’s award season – but more on that (and fuckin' Adam Sandler) in a second.
A24 is a name that has stolen its way into this and many other “best of lists” for some time now (namedrop once again Midsommar last year, but also Hereditary from two years ago), and for already the second time in this list they’re back again. I’ll admit to not being entirely taken with The Safdie Brothers’ chaotic New York crimer on first watching, but it was only afterwards that it became apparent the level of true skill and control it takes to manage so much pandemonium. A two-hour lecture in tension that almost certainly can never be replicated (though I’d have to finally watch the brothers’ initial Good Time to be sure), perhaps the most astonishing aspect of Gems is that Jack and Jill now stars two actors who were unfairly treated by The Academy of Motion Picture of Arts and Sciences. Whether you’re here for the noisy career-best Sandler, the jaw-dropping first-timer Julia Fox or for one of history’s best “athlete plays themselves” turns from Kevin Garnett, do not let yourself be scared off by this incredibly-accomplished New York marathon of misdemeanors.
7: On The Rocks
Home, Blackwood - 04/11/20
It might seem sacrilege to the studio’s more ardent supporters that a comedy-drama placed higher A24’s above 2020 offerings, but let’s be fair: how can you resist Bill Murray?
The living comic deity teamed up with Sofia Coppola once again this year for On The Rocks, and the biggest surprise (to me) of this positioning here is that I didn’t end up ranking it any higher – in the film’s first act, I was convinced I was watching a top five movie at least. Routinely delightful in its early stages as it knowingly plays with the real-life urban legend of its biggest star, Coppola’s latest soon reveals itself to be something of a lighter-hearted “lost in the big city” companion piece to Lost in Translation. Most intelligent of all, however, is how the deliberate Bogarting of Murray’s Felix constantly prevents the viewer from considering at length why on Earth anyone would cheat on such an incredible person as Rashida Jones and her alter ego here, his daughter Laura. This unsolved quandary lingers at the back of your mind throughout the film, interrupted just at the right time by the Murray-in-a-convertible capers, until its final act revelations confirm this on a philosophical level similar to Coppola’s Tokyo-set masterpiece. Above all else, however, this is confirmation that we should not be discounting the capabilities of Jones as a film star, and credit to Murray for dedicating his mystique here to making that fully apparent.
6: Portrait of a Lady on Fire
Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff - 29/02/20
In the ancient past when the idea of going to the cinema on any date became a figment of immense wonder, my one and only resolution for 2020 was to catch a film on the big screen in the Leap Year anomaly that was February 29th. The best part of doing so was that not only was that goal satisfied, it was rewarded with the magnificent Portrait of a Lady on Fire.
Like Happiest Season it’s a testament to authenticity in representation but as is to be expected from the Gallic arthouse, it does so in a haunting and endlessly beautiful way. Moreover, Portrait de la jeune fille en feu largely expels sexual politics to instead focus on the actual relationship between its protagonists; sure, the all-consuming prejudice of 18th Century Europe hangs over the head of Marianne and Héloïse, but the emphasis is on the slow burn, roaring realization and inevitable smothering of their romance. The divide between passions of emotion and artistry are examined metaphorically in the ways Marianne commits Héloïse’s image to canvas, and literally in conversation between the lovers as they move to their farewell. It leads to a parting which, depending on which side of that divide you fall, is either the most heart-breaking or fulfilling conclusion of the year.
5: Saint Maud
Maxime Cinema, Blackwood - 12/10/20
Will there ever be a final shot in any film that rivals that of Saint Maud? It’s difficult to say, although in the years to come as inevitable imitations of the finale of Rose Glass’s feature debut come to pass, there’ll be no shortage of answers to that question. Another accomplished offering by one of modern horror’s leading houses, A24 (yup – them again), the best part of Saint Maud is that it’s not all about its closing image. Whilst it may lack the unending dread of a Midsommar or Hereditary, this seaside-set descent into delusion does not lack for its share of shock. There’s more than a hint of The Exorcist as nurse Maud (or is it Katie?) and her obsession with salvation provide a genuinely original investigation into untreated mental health, dispelling the recent cinematic notion that the distraction of a blockbuster setting is needed to tell such a “real story”. The decaying British town setting is a change of pace for its home studio, and newcomer Morfydd Clark is hauntingly deliberate in her performance, but if all that doesn’t grab you, then… how about that final fucking shot?!
4: Kajillionaire
Maxime Cinema, Blackwood - 09/10/20
The trailer for Kajillionaire promised one of the year’s weirdest movies. What it did not promise, however, was one of 2020’s sweetest.
The film follows Old Dolio, played by a long-haired and gloriously committed Evan Rachel Wood, as she questions her place in the eternal scheming of her paranoid parents – or perhaps that should be, her con artist parents. Sheltered (or kept) from any outside world, however, she perceives herself to have little business existing anywhere other than by their side. Enter Melanie (Gina Rodriguez), an addition to the trio who Old Dolio first mistrusts and then mistreats; it quickly becomes clear that this cold shouldering is actually a schoolyard-level display of attraction, a “tease your crush” esque reaction that slowly blooms into a romance that you’ll find yourself rooting for more than any other in this cinematic year.
What may shock you about the film, especially from that description, is that it’s not only lovely but it’s also very, very funny. It’s delivered with a relentless earwig of a soundtrack from Emile Mosseri, and an equally unique pastel-colored palette, and in a year where films like Kajillionaire were sprung into multiplexes in the wake of panicked release date postponements, Miranda July’s third feature proved that just like its hero, “in the real world” is absolutely where it belonged.
3: Mank
Maxime Cinema, Blackwood - 22/11/20
When exactly did Citizen Kane became the Macbeth of cinema? Somewhere in its 80 years “The Greatest Movie Ever Made” has become a name so mythical, that its practitioners are apparently afraid to speak it out loud… unless, that is, you’re David Fincher.
Bringing to life a script from his late father Jack, Fincher has somehow arrived upon a complete document of the warring greatness of that film – or more accurately, its screenwriter Herman J. Mankieowicz, proven here to be the one person in “The Golden Age” more intriguing than his wunderkind “co-writer” Orson Welles. Showing that a fabled legacy need not be such an albatross, Fincher also somehow utilizes the modern cinematic clichés of homage and retelling in a genuinely compelling fashion. The story beats of Kane are mirrored in the lives of its famous inspirations, and as Amanda Seyfried’s Marion Davies languishes alongside Charles Dance’s politicking William Randolph Hearst you might find yourself thinking you’re watching the Xanadu-bound Charles and Susan Kane. Remarkably, these “real-life” parallels never feel repetitive.
Like a scholarly version of Once Upon A Time… in Hollywood this is an immersive tribute to an age of Hollywood, albeit one which may overwhelm the casual viewer; regardless, it’s undeniable how much this looks, sounds and feels like a forties picture. Mank is realized by an immersed Gary Oldman and rivalled only by a career-best Seyfried, and complimented by well-casted faces such as Tom Burke whose eerily recognizable baritone announces “Mank - it’s Orson Welles”. More than just the cloying tribute that it might have been in less capable hands, Mank is an entirely brilliant picture and a pleasure to watch, as one of cinema’s finest contemporary voices composes a grand testimonial to one of his greatest forebears.
Deciding which of these next two films deserved top spot was the most difficult part about writing this list that wasn’t actually writing this list. So close were the two that at one point I (briefly) considered a joint-first spot, but that was one amendment to my usual “top ten” format at which I drew the line. Hopefully, I can get to the end of this post without another change of heart.
2: Parasite
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| Showcase Cinema, Nantgarw - 17/02/20 |
As seen in its very good trailer, Vulture did a good job of describing this film when they said, “you expect (it) to be one thing but it mutates into something else”. Otherwise, a dense spoiler load is needed to properly talk about Parasite, which would do a disservice to the whole movie (and especially the twenty minute tension fest that is the film’s second act fulcrum). Whatever your level of prior knowledge is, it’s safe to say you’ll never guess what that damn doorbell will lead to next.
The most undeniable thing about watching Gisaengchung is that to do so feels like watching an instant classic in the vein of a Tarantino or Scorsese – coincidentally enough, two names that the self-proclaimed “fucking weirdo” Bong Joon-Ho both openly admired and humbly defeated in his historic Academy Award clean sweep. Bold where it needs to be and measured to perfection at every corner – even the ones you can’t see – Parasite is destined to be the one film we’ll still be hearing about in twenty years’ time.
1: Jojo Rabbit
Showcase Cinema, Nantgarw - 04/01/20
(First film of the year, first place in this list, and the first time those two stats have ever correlated.)
To the casual observer, it may seem sacrilegious on so many fronts to coronate a comedy about Hitler as the best of the year. There are, however, two simple counterpoints – first of all, it’s from the guy who made Thor funny. Secondly, there’s a lot more going on in Taika Waititi’s “anti-hate satire” than just a dancing fascist fool; just look at how much screen time is actually given to history’s biggest dickhead – sorry, dictator – for confirmation. Yes, it’s funny in ways both slapstick and scandalous, but humour isn’t the main end point to this particular journey.
As concerned with the idea that Things Will Never Be The Same Again as any World War II film, Waititi constantly asks us to compare our knowledge of history against the fragile moral grasp of a child, the eponymous Jojo. He also (somehow) balances the conflict within this member of the Hitler Youth against the scarring of the Jewish girl hiding in his walls (the once again sensational Thomasin Mackenzie, Leave No Trace), proving that for all the satire which outsiders find in the notion of war, for those trapped within the price of that ridiculousness is paid in blood. Laugh your way through the film’s first two acts for sure, but be prepared to be sledgehammered by that message in a reveal and final act which provide an unforgettable, devastating emotional experience.
Also, this seems like a good a place as any to point out the (unfortunately timely) message that Jojo Rabbit constantly had at its heart: fuck Nazis, man.
I’m more eager than ever to return to the comfort and familiarity of a cinema screen, and the creeping optimism offered by an eventual vaccine is only stoking that excitement. But the fact remains that, as of this moment, I’m really jealous of anyone that’s seen Wonder Woman 1984 on the big screen right now. It really is a strange year…
There’s a lot of work to be done before I or millions of others get the chance to once again step into the darkened confines of a cinema once again. Likewise, there’s work to be done when it comes to personal viewing habits: as I look at the above list it doesn’t quite have the level of intersectionality that I’d like, which in a year of such social activism as 2020 is a real personal disappointment. There are more avenues than ever to work on the latter, but for the former a little more patience and a few more masks are all that’s needed.
While last year was always going to be difficult from a practical standpoint, I never imagined that it would end up being the most emotionally-difficult 366 days of my life. Now, I won’t prescribe the absence of the cinema as the entire reason for that, as there was whole lot more needlessly difficult shit going on that contributed to my mental struggles. What I will say, however, is that it would all have been a lot easier to navigate if I could have just gotten to my favourite place in the world a bunch more times than the 31 outings you'll see in the video below. My best cinematic friend, who accompanied me on most of those journeys, recently pointed out that a cinema is as much therapy to us as a gym is to the more physically afflicted; as I carry the lessons of 2020 forward with me, I look forward to never taking that escape for granted again.
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