Why do we watch films?
I tend to get introspective this time of year when starting
to think about the best films of the past 12 months. I am a listomaniac so I
relish coming up with the films; that is not the problem. It is the paring down
to come up with the top ten, or even the top fifteen that is excruciating. I
have never understood those who bemoan that there are hardly any films worth
celebrating from the past year. For me this is akin to those who complain that
there is never anything good to watch on Netflix; I do not know what to tell
them when I have more than 200 films on my Netflix queue.
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| Scene from FORCE MAJEURE |
But let me come back to my original question. Why do we
watch films. Why should film matter. This year, being in India during the last
week of the year, these questions became somewhat irrelevant. Because film in
India is so intricately woven into the fabric of what makes this country what
it is, that to isolate cinema and ask of its meaning is purposeless. All those
who bemoan the death of publicly screened movies should book a plane ticket to
Mumbai and walk into a theater here. And watch how the masses consume film. How
they truly lap up film. Like a child consuming a ripe mango. With an almost
obscene relish. With an abandonment of the real world that is at first
embarrassing, and then unexpectedly comforting. Families come, hand in hand and
filter into rows like ants. They jump out of their seats with righteous pride
when the Indian national anthem is played before the start of the film, waiting
until the last note is played before settling back. They squeal with glee. They
talk at the screen. They warn the characters of impending danger. They openly
cheer at the protagonist. They talk to each other. They clap. They eat: covertly brought snacks
from home as well as foods purchased during the intermission (yes, there is an
intermission, if not formally built into Indian films then
forcibly and often ineptly cleaved into American films). If I sound nostalgic
it is because this is how I consumed cinema growing up and I now miss this
reckless embrace of cinema, this utter surrender to the joy of it, that is
somehow absent in the West. Just this year I shrugged off threats of bodily
harm received when I asked someone to stop talking during a screening in San
Diego. And yet, and yet, during a screening in India this week, I did not have
the heart to ask the same of the audience here; besides it would have taken me
the full running time of the movie to make my way through to everyone who was
talking during the movie.
I think we watch film because film is the great equalizer. Once
the lights go down and it is dark in that theater, it puts us all at the same
station. All the inequalities of our each individual real worlds, those
inherited and those thrust upon us, dissolve away. Social, economic,
professional and physical labels all look the same in the dark; they are
invisible. And for a short while, we can get lost uniformly in someone else’s
world. Which is why my criterion for
picking movies for the year-end list has remained the same year after year:
that each movie should have altered something within my emotional circuitry.
What does it say that my top four films (and five out of the
top fifteen) are foreign movies. Only that the best in cinema, as always, comes
from everywhere, and those who willfully choose to watch only American/English
movies do so to their great detriment.
And so here are my personal picks for the best of the year:
15. LUNCHBOX: This film excels at the one thing that
often evades Indian cinema: subtlety. A neglected young housewife builds a
connection with an older widowed man when lunches she packs for her husband
mistakenly get delivered to the other man. The film’s accomplishment is in how
deftly it transcends the cliché of two strangers helping each other out. It
does so by avoiding a face to face meeting between the two; much of their
interaction occurs through handwritten notes accompanied with the lunchbox. The
delicate tone so wistfully maintained early in the movie is ruined in the last
act when the script tries, very unwisely, to force a romantic beat to the interplay
between the two, but when you have as fine an actor as Irrfan Khan at the peak
of his abilities it pulls the film through.
14. ENEMY: What a glorious mind-fuck this film is. A man
becomes aware of another who looks exactly like him; even as he tries to reach
out to him, the lives of the two start to bleed into each other. Are the two
doppelgangers the same person? Is the entire film a documentation of a mind
coming undone? Or is it about the necessary duality in each of us. Based on the
book by Jose Saramago, the film has no interest in providing easy answers;
those insistent on a FIGHT CLUB like reveal should look elsewhere. But the
stories of the two men (played with impressive dexterity by Jake Gyllenhaal)
play out with a pleasing directness that should remedy concerns about the
film being too opaque. Extra credit: ENEMY will easily make it on any list of
movies with the most shocking/perplexing/WTF endings. ENEMY is currently streaming on Netflix
13. LOCKE: Like BOYHOOD and BIRDMAN, detractors have called
LOCKE a gimmick. But what you might call a gimmick is to me the cinematic equivalent
of jumping off a cliff without a safety net. All three films could have fallen
flat on their faces on the basis of their innovation. All three are on my best
of the year list. The entirety of LOCKE is filmed around a single character
driving a car over the course of one night. That is it. As the night wears on,
we realize this is a story about a man having arguably the worst night of his
life. Tom Hardy plays this individual with slippery insight and writer-director
Steven Knight takes time to peel away at his motivations. We know the crises
this man is facing and has to necessarily resolve while he is driving, but we
do not know if he has had these coming to him. Not everything about the film
works, but I will never begrudge a movie that is able to demonstrate original sin.
12. A MOST VIOLENT YEAR: What richness of contradictions we have here. In
a film called A MOST VIOLENT YEAR, you will find very little blood. For a film
set in the late 70s, it easily speaks to contemporary themes of corporate greed
and responsibility (which is not surprising considering that this filmmaker's first movie was MARGIN CALL). And for a mobster crime drama, it is
surprisingly moody, some might say glacial even. I believe it is this slow burn
that turned off many viewers. But the simmer pays off as the movie builds a
genuine sense of unease, of impending doom. Not interested in indulging in the
conventions of the genre this film belongs to, J.C. Chandor instead has crafted
the film as a character study of a man trying to do right. In an inherently
criminal milieu. Two years in a row now, Oscar Isaac has provided
indelible portrayals of men undone by self-destructive behavior inseparable from who they are (with FINDING LLEWYN DAVIS and A MOST VIOLENT
YEAR).
11. THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING: Much attention has been given
to this handsome biopic about Stephen Hawkins, based on a memoir written by his
wife. To the handsome cinematography and exacting recreation of a time and
place from the past. To the handsome love story of a man many consider more
intelligent than any that lived and the woman who stood beside him through his
cruelly unimaginable physical deterioration. In fact there is a burnish of
handsomeness through much of this film, a sense of rigorous craft with which
the film has been put together. I will not begrudge any of those things. But
that is not the reason this film is on this list (when say, THE IMITATION GAME
is not). The film’s great accomplishment in my mind comes from its second act,
when it follows Hawking and his wife through their latter years, much after the
moony romanticism from their early years has faded. And it is the unflinching,
level-headed honesty with which it regards these characters through the passage
of time that the film rises above genre biopic conventions. The script’s
refusal to readily submit to pat moral judgments about the two or to obviously
tip its sympathies toward one or the other in the couple makes for the best
part of this film. The most robust of loves are vulnerable to the cruelties of
everyday happenings and it is a wise film that is able to go deep into these
murky waters and come out with integrity.
10.
NIGHTCRAWLER: A man trains himself to become a crime photographer in Los Angeles and
shows uncommon acumen in negotiating the sale of his footage to local
television news stations. There is always something a bit off with this man, masterfully played by Jake Gyllenhaal, but one of the joys of the
film is to realize with sinking fear that there is no line this man will not
cross to capture newsworthy crime footage.
A film free from moral tether is a film liberated. And Dan Gilroy uses
this setting to provide commentary on many contemporary mores. In its
final act the film descends into a rarified other dimension of queasy disquiet,
where you stare at the screen the way you cannot look away from a road
accident. What great, twisted fun this movie is. This film should have been
celebrated at year end as the current generation’s NETWORK. And yet it got precious
little love from the press. In fact the San Diego Film Critics Society was the only reviewing
group to lavish awards on the film. NIGHTCRAWLER is currently streaming on Netflix.
9. MR
PEABODY AND SHERMAN: The most intelligent individual on the planet, who just
happens to be a dog named Mr Peabody takes a human kid (Sherman) on several
adventures by way of a time-machine. This animated film based on
the Peabody and Sherman television shorts from several decades ago is frankly a small miracle. It is giddily, wonderfully alive. It is cunningly devious in
pulling in history lessons in the guise of time-travel adventures. It is
visually as glossy and gleaming and wondrous as any film released in the year
(animated or otherwise). But the greatest reason I consider this film a minor
masterpiece is the slyness with which it slips in its message of acceptance. Late in the film, when strangers in a crowd start saying, one after another, “I
am a dog” in defence of Mr Peabody’s right to adopt Sherman, it was one of the more emotional cinematic moments of the year for me. MR PEABODY AND SHERMAN is currently streaming on Netflix.
8. BOYHOOD: A
boy grows up into adulthood and a film quietly observes. It observes him and it
observes those around him including his separated parents. Much has been made
of the fact that director Richard Linklater had his camera on the same actor
over a period of 12 years. Many have brushed this aside as a gimmick, and
yet, and yet, no one had thought to do this until now. But set aside the thrill of
watching the contours of a face change on screen, watch hair bow to demands of changing styles. Even if Linklater had hired separate actors of different
ages to play this role, this would had still been a great film. Because he makes the
brave choice on every page of his script to avoid epiphany, to steer clear of
melodrama, to have this be a story of banal everyday happenings. But isn’t that
the nature of memory, a series of disconnected unremarkable personal
remembrances. Having a film be able to capture the inscrutable and to do it
with grace and understatement and to have it mean something is no small
accomplishment.
7. BIRDMAN:
This film could have been insufferable. But instead it becomes the cinematic
equivalent of jumping off a cliff without rope. It is the story
of a has-been star of superhero films who makes one last ditch effort at being
relevant by taking on a role in a Broadway play. That is nominally the synopsis
of the plot. But I saw the film as the study of a person slowly coming undone. A
study of a person trying to handle demands both professional and personal, and
losing control of the real from the imagined. Each of us could be far more mentally
unhinged than how we perceive ourselves, this film is trying to say. And then
there is the part about how the film has been shot: Alejandro Gonzales
Inarritu, known until now for films with disparate story lines that converge together
(AMORRES PERROS, 21 GRAMS, BABEL) does the exact opposite with BIRDMAN, filming it to make the entire movie seem like a single unbroken shot. Oh,
and the one thing that there is universal agreement on, is that nobody knows
what to make of the ending.
6. PRIDE:
This is the epitome of the feel-good movie. It just so happens that nobody saw it. Why this film
didn’t get more love at the box office is baffling. The film carries a 92%
rating on the Tomatometer, and the movie all but guarantees that audience
members will leave the theater in a cloud of elation. So write down the name of this film for the next time you are scratching your head as to which movie to rent. The
film is based on real-life events surrounding Welsh mineworkers on strike
during the Thatcher-era who got unsolicited support from a gay
and lesbian activist group out of London. At first the mineworkers did not want to have anything to do with this group, but they gradually warmed up to the unexpected allies. This film is a case study on how to avoid the sentimental, the hackneyed
and the contrived. Every scene here rings with authenticity. And the film
pulses with a hard-earned and quiet combination of dignity and anger. Even as
it gets to dismal and dark places, the film ultimately demonstrates, with
enviable subtlety that the disenfranchised are all the same. Seek out this film
at any cost.
5. THE EDGE
OF TOMORROW: This is a fully realized piece of science fiction that is
thrillingly alive. How many films about man versus aliens have we seen by now,
and frankly what more is left to say? It turns out, plenty. In the hands of
Doug Liman, this movie gets shot by shot, scene by scene, component by
component, everything right. The movie takes a simple doozy of a premise (based
on the book ALL YOU NEED IS KILL) - that of a reluctant soldier caught in a
time-loop in which he keeps dying again and again and looping back through the
same few days before his death until he is able to find a way to prevail during
the alien warfare – and builds a funny, richly executed narrative around it.
Say what you will about Tom Cruise but he never phones in a performance, and
Emily Blunt has never been better playing a fully convincing badass sergeant.
There is an obvious homage to GROUNDHOG DAY with Blunt’s character named Ritam
and the battle scene that plays again and again in France is meant to evoke the
Normandy invasion. But forget all that and just enjoy what is the best action
film of 2014. The film understands that the best sci-fi stories are about
ideas, and not about spaceships and aliens.
4. THE WAY
HE LOOKS: This film (HOJE EU QUERO VOLTAR SOZINHO) was Brazil’s submission for Best Foreign Film at the Academy Awards. It tells the story
of Leo, a somewhat shy teenager. He is blind and aware of his place in school
due to his disability. Leo’s best friend
since childhood has been Giovana and the two are inseparable; in many ways he
sees the world through Giovana’s eyes. Enter the unreasonably amiable new student
at school, Gabriel, and Leo and Giovanna’s relationship will need to be redefined.
Who hasn’t experienced the dynamics with a friend change due to the introduction of a new person to the mix. Nothing in this film is what we haven’t seen
before. And yet, the film is written, acted and played out with such a matter
of fact honesty and simplicity that it rises up to be one of the better films
of the year. THE WAY HE LOOKS makes its observations without fuss, without
drama, and without prurience. So what if the lead character is blind. So what
if he happens to fall for another guy. Without tilting into caricature, the
film strikes authenticity while never submitting to melodrama. One THE WAY HE LOOKS can do more good than a hundred after-school specials about tolerance. Yes
THE WAY HE LOOKS may just be a teenage love triangle set in Brazil, but it is
the best example of its kind to make you realize that sometimes a truthful
story told with a good heart is all it takes. When films these days are
seemingly only interested in hipster posturing and cynicism, the most
provocative thing of all may be a film that gifts viewers with genuine
sweetness. THE WAY HE LOOKS is currently streaming on Netflix
3. LIKE
FATHER LIKE SON: Two couples find out that their five-year old sons had been
switched at birth. Think about this
premise, and then imagine what most filmmakers might have done with it. To see
what Hirokazu Kore-Eda does with this story is to recognize why he is one of our master filmmakers. The film presents a fascinating moral quandary. The
discovery of a son you weren’t previously aware of is one thing. But that still
cannot match the anxiety of knowing that the child you did rear as your own now
legally belongs to other parents who could forcibly take him away. This story
could have lent itself to any manner of tonal or stylistic construct. This
might have been a bitter, angry film. It might have been a legal procedural. It
might have been a deep, soggy wallow of a movie. But LIKE FATHER LIKE SON is
none of those things. Instead the film
is elevated because the treatment given to this material is one of quiet
observation. Kore-eda has been called an heir to Ozu for reason, not least because
of his ability to watch his characters from afar without judgment. And this
movie is no exception. It has no interest in melodrama; you will not find a
shrill note here. And then there is the one thing about Kore-Eda’s work that
makes him one of my favorite filmmakers: he refuses to create villains. There
isn’t a mean character in any of his films. How easy it would have been for this film to
tip over, if even very subtly, with its sympathies toward one of the two
couples. It would have been easy to call the rich couple out for their patronizing,
intellectual detachment, or call the other couple out for being irresponsible
and crude. But the film resolutely does not. It quietly makes it clear that
each set of parents are well-meaning and generous in their love for their
children. They may be flawed, but both
sides are inarguably decent. It is in this recognition of the decency of those
who love a child that the film ultimately provides an abiding definition of family; the only one that matters. That
it does so apolitically, unemotionally and with authenticity, is cause for
gratitude. LIKE FATHER LIKE SON is currently streaming on Netflix
2. TWO DAYS,
ONE NIGHT: Are there more humanist filmmakers working right now than the
Dardenne brothers? They have been making exceptional films for a long time, but
with TWO DAYS, ONE NIGHT they hit a perfect stride, bringing forth a clear,
focused story with uncanny insight. And empathy. A woman who returns to work
after a long break due to illness finds out that her job has been eliminated
and her salary will be distributed as bonus amongst the 16 workers who covered
for her during her absence. When she pleads to have her job back, she is told
she can have it if she can over the course of a weekend, convince each of her
coworkers to give up their bonus. Presented as a simple ethical quandary, this
story is about all of the issues that matter today: the crumbling economy, and the increasing loss of humanity in the great industrial
shuffle. This film has one of the better
depictions on screen of a functioning clinically depressed individual. And
Marion Cotillard, in an Oscar nominated lead performance, breaks your heart.
Each time she rises above everything that is pushing her down: her crippling
depression, the loss of her job, the pain of having to ask another economically
strained colleague to give up their bonus so she can keep her job, every time she smiles
in spite of all of that, it is an inconsequential victory but it breaks your
heart still. Cotillard plays this character as a broken person, but she never strains
for audience sympathy. In a key scene toward the end of the film, her
immediate reaction to a situation quietly demonstrates that she may be
emotionally broken, but she has all the strength of character where it matters
the most. In all the films in all of 2014 that I saw, this is the only one with a
fully, acutely human character.
1. FORCE
MAJEURE: What a stunner this film is. Pushing all the right buttons for me, I watched it
with rapturous wonder. At different times, somber, probing, achingly funny,
wise and damning, this is cinema for those who love cinema. What is it about?
Conceptually, oh about a hundred things, but it is nominally about a seemingly
perfect young family that completely unravels when presented very
suddenly with a life-and-death situation. One spouse reacts a particular way
and it is clear he will not be forgiven for this for a long time. The most pervasively
dominant of all human instincts, the one that prevails even over the most primal instinct
to protect our own is that of self-survival. The film’s principal moral inquiry
is whether we as a society are less forgiving of men than women when dealing with this.
FORCE MAJEURE is technically majestic. Some filmmakers have a
spark to their work; you can sense a grandness, a flourish to every scene in
their films. You can sense this in the films of Fincher, Nolan, the Coen brothers. Writer-director Ruben Ostlund is a master aesthetist and earns the
right to be compared to those filmmakers. There is a pivotal scene in
FORCE MAJEURE around which the entire film pivots and that alone is worth the
price of admission for its technical grandeur. But set that money shot aside;
even then, the film is remarkable for how neatly and studiously the shots have
been culled together, with beautiful long, long takes that both present as
challenges to the actors (some of them kids) and at the same time allow them to
do remarkable work. The script makes wry observations about the the soft, vulnerable, unexamined, and scrupulously ignored underbellies of relationships as it focuses its gaze on
several couples. And even when the gaze is terse, there is an intelligence to
the examination that is exacting, precise. And lest this sound too lofty, I
want to assure you that there is terrific humor at every turn in this
film. And wit. At one point, upon returning to their room after a testy dinner
conversation, the wife tells her husband: "What's wrong? That's not
us!" It is a marvelous way to think of relationships. This is the
quintessential film that will trigger intense debate after viewing. FORCE MAJEURE restores my faith in cinema. FORCE MAJEURE is currently streaming on Netflix
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