Grain of Salt: Matt's Top 10 Films of 2019
One of my resolutions for 2019 was to to embrace a new discipline of brevity in my writing- to tighten up my emails, blog posts, and essays. So, in the spirit of excising the fluff, the flab, and the streamofconsciousness drivel, I submit to you my ever-so-slightly-slimmer-best-of-list for 2019.
As usual, the quality films were frustratingly-backloaded into a fraught year that could have used some artistic catharsis earlier on. Regardless, the cinema of 2019 effectively landed a rollercoaster of a decade with grace, sophistication, and the promise of what we could expect in the 2020s.
10. MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN
In 1998 Edward Norton starred in American History X- a film that established a dramatic precedent for the physical and psychological burden the 29-year-old actor was willing to negotiate for his craft. One year later Jonathan Lethem published his fifth novel, the detective thriller “Motherless Brooklyn.” Norton immediately optioned the book, initially planning to produce and star in it. A year later Norton made his directorial debut with Keeping the Faith- an underrated comedy starring himself, Ben Stiller, and Jenna Elfman. That film’s financial failure stalled Norton’s directorial career and, as such, it took him nearly 20 years to secure Motherless Brooklyn’s cast and budget (a relatively modest 26 million) when he finally decided to write, direct, and star in it. The film will be remembered as one of the biggest flops of 2019 and it may very well take Norton another 20 years to secure the capital to direct his next feature. But I’m supremely confident that someday–perhaps decades from now–Motherless Brooklyn will finally be discovered. It will make better-late-than-never contact with its intended audience. It will be anointed as the heir apparent to both Chinatown and L.A. Confidential. It will be lauded for its deeply felt examination of what New York could have been and devastation over what it became. It will be respected as one of the categorical Neo-Noir exercises. And it will retroactively be considered one of the great films of 2019. It might take a little time to find this promised land… But we’ll get there eventually.
9. MIDSOMMAR
Ari Aster’s Midsommar really cemented its brilliance to me during the bravura “Maypole” sequence that occurs just shy of the film’s two-hour mark. The young, beautiful, brilliant Florence Pugh–100% committed and dialed-in as our heroine “Dani”–valiantly attempts to keep her composure as the whirling dervish of ecstatic humanity pulls her faster and faster in concentric, dancing circles. She has been liberally dosed with a scary, Scandinavian, psychotropic concoction of God-knows-what and she may potentially be engaged in a They Shoot Horse Don’t They-esque dance-off that could very well lead to her death or at least the catastrophic loss of her sanity. It was in that moment that I thought to myself “I legitimately have NO idea where this is going and I could not possibly be more excited to be along for this ride.” Midsommar is terrifying, it’s incendiary, and it’s hilarious. Plus, to add a cherry on top of the film’s perverse, chocolate Sunday of thematic contradictions, it has a euphorically happy ending. How’s that for planting a flag at the apex of the so-called “age of elevated horror”?
8. AMERICAN FACTORY
A refreshingly impartial and clear-eyed look at the clash of corporate cultures inside an Ohio automotive company; Julia Reichert and Steven Bognar’s American Factory is the perfect documentary for our politically incontinent times. The film features a rich tapestry of complex, dynamic personalities on both the blue and white collar sides of the fence, throughout the company. But ultimately the effectiveness of the narrative relies on two remarkable Chinese “characters”: the de facto villain, as personified by anti-union “suit” Cao Dewang (a personality made all the more fascinating by the fact that the man clearly thinks of himself as the misunderstood hero of this story) and compassionate, assimilationist engineer Wong He. The latter emerges at the film’s moral center and champion for empathy. The thrust of the film and its raison d'etre can really be summed up in a scene in which a newly relocated Chinese couple looks upon a cold, barren, unremarkable stretch of Ohio flatland and marvels at its beauty. Because it’s not just that beauty is in the eye of the beholder… but also that these Chinese ex-pats–who have become disillusioned with the politics of their homeland–have embraced priorities and lifestyle goals that go beyond the aesthetic. Ohio could be their promised land, at least when compared to a place that no longer shares their values, ethics, or vision of the future.
7. WAVES
About halfway through Trey Edward Shults’s incorrigible third feature, Waves, I was contemplating committing an act that I NEVER endorse- pulling up stakes and leaving the movie theater prematurely. The intensity of the melodrama, the darkness of the on-screen events, and the hyperactive nature of the visuals combined to make the experience highly unpleasant for me. I legitimately thought about leaving. But thank goodness I stayed to discover that Waves is actually a diptych. And the ravishing, euphoric second half of the film only works and flies (oh my, does it fly) if you consummately submit to the punishment of the first hour. Pretty much every thing that can possibly go wrong does for the wealthy, South Florida family at the center of Waves and their privileged existence comes crashing down in the face of unspeakable tragedy. But the events of the film’s first half are taken in stride, philosophically-filtered, and ultimately reconciled through the eyes of the teenaged Emily, Waves’ beating heart and secret protagonist. As Emily, actress Taylor Russell makes a legitimate argument that she is the true breakout star of 2019 with a singular performance as soulful as it is heartbreaking. She’s an absolute revelation and the ultimate approbation of Waves’ existence.
6. LITTLE WOMEN
Two Brits, an Irishwoman, and an Aussie portray four of the most iconic characters from American literature in writer/director Greta Gerwig’s ecstatic, reverent, and gleefully metatextual adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s enduring masterpiece Little Women. Much has been written and second-guessed in terms of Gerwig’s structural decisions and the ways in which she infuses the character of Jo March with some of Alcott’s own personal and professional history. For those who are draconian about the source material, this may qualify as sacrilege. But for me–who came into the film with very little knowledge of the book beyond some cultural context–I was completely beguiled by Gerwig’s method, her affection for a sprawling mosaic of characters (the film boasts the strongest ensemble cast of 2019), and her molecular grasp of what makes the book so timeless. I couldn’t help but think of recurring, 21st century on-screen couples such as Kristen Stewart and Jesse Eisenberg or Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling when watching Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet burn up the screen together again as the star-crossed Jo and Laurie. But, as strong as those two are as Little Women’s de facto leads, the film ultimately belongs to Florence Pugh. Her exquisite performance as Amy March reinforces what an important year 2019 was in terms of establishing her status as a legitimate movie star and one of the most exciting actors of her generation.
5. AD ASTRA
“I am focused on the essential to the exclusion of all else.” This refrain–the emotional mission statement of James Gray’s transcendent astronaut opera, Ad Astra–is echoed multiple times in space cowboy Roy McBride’s haunted voiceover. Brad Pitt, as McBride, delivers a performance that ranks amongst the best in his storied career and helps to boost this daddy-issue-forward, interstellar meditation beyond the realm of a mere Apocalypse Now remake (though the similarities are undeniable). This particular line of dialogue has become something of a mantra for me in the three months since I first saw the film and has helped to assuage some of my daily uncertainties in these anxious times. In a film that is intentionally open to many different thematic readings, I always took this line (and the film’s entire third act) as a kind of non-preachy endorsement of the cathartic potential of atheism. Grey and co-writer Ethan Gross are clearly committed to using science fiction as a conduit into a cinematic treatise on existentialism and religion. But they’re also respectful enough of their genre obligations to never shy away from using space pirates or space monkeys to keep their galactic tone poem from becoming hyper-formal.
4. UNCUT GEMS
I was always more politely respectful than passionately reverent of the Safide Brothers. I was also never completely sold on Adam Sandler’s dramatic chops despite the occasional flashes of promise in films like Punch-Drunk Love or Funny People. But I will happily add my voice to the chorus of all who have been converted by the four-alarm panic attack that is Uncut Gems because I found it to be every bit the revelation that the steady chorus of post-Telluride accolades had claimed it to be. To journey down the rabbit hole with Sandler’s dirtbag speculator, Howard Ratner, is to take a wild, adrenaline-fueled ride into the degenerate heart of darkness. In which the mere possibility of the dopamine rush from the next big score far outweighs the near certainty that another loss may very well lead to violence or even death at the hands of the loan sharks. Uncut Gems is abrasive, it’s exhausting, and it’s potentially enabling. It might also represent the most fun I had in a movie theater in 2019.
3. 1917
Director Sam Mendes has come a long way since American Beauty. Cinematographer Roger Deakins has come a long way since Barton Fink. And “one-shot” features have come a long way since Rope. So it’s within the grand tradition of actual one-shot films like Russian Ark or Victoria and “stitched” one-shot films like Rope or Birdman that 1917 has positioned and proven itself to be such an unprecedented technical achievement. Because, in many respects, it is the platonic ideal of the one-shot exercise, in that it negotiates its storytelling gimmick without ever getting “cute” about it. 1917 unfolds over a nominal “continuous” shot, not because it needs to fool you by the way it hides the cuts (it actually does very little to conceal the stitch points). Rather it’s about a sustained journey that ratchets up the tension by nature of the way it withholds the Eisensteinian “blink.” In this regard, it is of little surprise that the film was edited by Lee Smith, who won an Oscar for cutting Dunkirk- a film that 1917 is much more fundamentally reminiscent of than any of its one-take forbears. Both Dunkirk and 1917 celebrate British heroism, the idea of survival as the ultimate military victory, and the notion that the method with which a story is conveyed defines the potential effectiveness of said story
2. PARASITE
What a pleasure it has been to experience the Parasite phenomenon take shape in real time. Becoming the first South Korean film to win the Palme D’or last May, taking the fall festival circuit by storm, breaking box office records in limited release, finding critical acclaim and financial success in wide release, being embraced as one of the most universally beloved films of the year (nay, the decade), all the way to potentially making history at the Academy Awards next month… Parasite is an unprecedented artistic achievement, but not just because of the way it has managed to dissolve language barriers and locate receptive audiences around the globe. It’s also the rare genre hybrid that’s a crackerjack rollercoaster that never loses sight of its agenda as incisive social commentary or sanctions its Cannes-bestowed art house cred. It’s a giddily entertaining heist film, a white-knuckle Hitchcockian thriller, and a deeply resonant indictment of the widening chasm in our have-and-have-not social landscape. I was unemployed and frankly quite terrified regarding my financial situation when I first saw the film back in September. Parasite depressed and excited me in equal measure. It filled me with anxiety and melancholy regarding the state of my own life and that of the world writ large, while also buffering me with so much excitement about the allegiant artistic potential of international cinema. It’s a miracle of a movie. Its importance cannot be overstated.
1. PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE
Every now and then a French filmmaker comes along, delivers a mic-drop masterpiece, and reinforces–lest we forget–that the French invented this art form and may very well have a greater capacity for crafting transcendent examples of it than any other national cinema. In an uncommonly strong year for French films from female directors (Claire Denis’ High Life and Mati Diop’s Atlantics being notable examples) writer/director Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire stands out as a work of art that feels simultaneously timely and timeless. To read the film’s synopsis, one might assume that this story of a repressed romance set against the backdrop of eighteenth century Brittany and featuring extended passages in which the titular likeness is being painted, is going to be a stiff, pretentious slog. Nothing could be further from the truth. Sciamma–aided in no small part by the electrifying duo of Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel (Sciamma’s muse, on and off camera)–spins her period yarn into a torrid, bodice-ripping melodrama of rare distinction. Every look is calibrated and calculated, every exchange loaded with subtext, every shot a compositional revelation. Movies don’t get much more ravishing than this. But when they do they often come courtesy of the French. Vive la cinema.
Matt’s Honorable Mentions:
AVENGERS: ENDGAME
THE FAREWELL
I LOST MY BODY
THE IRISHMAN
KNIVES OUT
THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO
THE LIGHTHOUSE
MARRIAGE STORY
PAIN AND GLORY
THE TWO POPES
Oscar’s Top 10:
10. UNCUT GEMS
9. THE REPORT
8. KNIVES OUT
7. HIGH LIFE
6. APOLLO 11
5. MARRIAGE STORY
4. LITTLE WOMEN
3. THE BEACH BUM
2. JOJO RABBIT
1. PARASITE