[While no animals were literally harmed in the creation of this list, figuratively, this thing is a slaughterhouse.]
2020 was a difficult year, and you know that.
When approaching a 2020 year-end list, it’s tempting to rehash all the ways in which the past year has made life challenging. The end result would essentially become a deliberate attempt at boring my audience. You’ve probably heard the same “2020 SUCKED” speech a thousand times by now, so I won’t contribute to beating that particular dead horse. Besides, there are plenty of our deceased equine friends out there who would kill for this kind of exposure. Instead, let us take up arms against my long-time punching bag, “The arbitrary nature of top ten lists,” and hope these final blows end its misery forever. It can’t die twice, but if we strike it hard enough, perhaps the resulting gelatinous puddle could be donated to a glue factory in economic distress.
Violent and flimsy dead horse metaphors aside, I really don’t know what to make of last year’s contribution to cinema. Once attending your local movie theater became an inadvisable activity, many distribution companies shifted to digital releases. Overall numbers have plummeted – 329 films were released in 2020, in comparison to 2019’s 792 films, according to sources I don’t plan to cite, because citations are for the weak. Most retrospectives of this year in cinema focus on these two factors – digital releases and lower numbers.
Unfortunately, there was another shadow that has loomed over the entirety of the entertainment industry during this period of isolation – vanity projects from bored celebrities. Music was hit the hardest, and I think that’s likely because the medium is more immediate. It takes much longer to write a screenplay for a 90-minute film, shoot it, edit it, and find distribution than it does to compose, record, mix, and master a 3-minute song. As such, all of those obnoxious bedroom recordings cropping up everywhere may parallel the trashy celebrity vehicles we’re about to face in 2021. This is a real mixed bag for me, but if I’m on to something, the latter half of this year should include:
- A dramatic increase in mainstream actors playing inspirationally-disadvantaged characters, badly
- The twist, “It was COVID-19 the whole time” becoming shockingly common
- An over-saturation of single-setting dramas and home invasion thrillers
- Tyler Perry using his stimulus check(s) to fund at least three movies, two of which will involve Madea, one of which will include a crossover with Euripides’ Greek tragedy Medea
- Bono spontaneously co-writing another screenplay
- Willow Smith starring in a race-swapped update of The Miracle Worker, except instead of being blind, Helen Keller has COVID-19
- Coming-of-age dramas with over-hyphenated titles about semi-wealthy 20-somethings navigating life in a time of faux-isolation
As horrible as most of that sounds, I’ll still take these absurd fantasies over 2020’s set of releases. There are plenty of films from the past year that I’ve enjoyed, but this is the first time I can remember when my number one pick will be something I rated 9/10. Granted, I haven’t had the time to thoroughly explore last year’s releases, and I’ve recently shifted my expectations for what a 10/10 film looks like, but this fact is still a poor reflection on an already depressing time in media history…
…and there I go again. So sorry about that, my poor deceased foal. It’s been a rough year, and I needed to get that off my chest. I’ll put the club down, and you can rest in peace. Here are my favorite films of 2020. They are in order, they are not negotiable, and they represent my own opinion. I shouldn’t have to give that disclaimer every year, but apparently I do.
10) She Dies Tomorrow
She Dies Tomorrow took me three tries to finish. On my first two attempts, I just wasn’t awake enough to endure ten minutes of Kate Lyn Sheil wandering aimlessly through a house. This glacial introduction was such a turn-off that it took several recommendations before I considered giving it another go. The earliest portions of the film come very close to capturing the same pretentious, faux-arthouse aesthetic found in every scene of A Ghost Story, though without those ten gloriously-stupid minutes of pie-eating. Thankfully, while this is a slow film, it’s just engaging enough to support its short runtime, and more importantly, it’s a fascinating watch.
She Dies Tomorrow is a drama/pitch-black comedy about the effects of becoming keenly aware of one’s own mortality. Our protagonist, Amy, spends most of one particular day calmly expressing to those around her that she absolutely knows she will die tomorrow. She can’t explain it, but she’s certain, and nothing will convince her otherwise. As she reaches out for help, those around her begin to experience the same strange sensation, and we follow each character as they cope with the knowledge of their alleged mortality. It can often come across as a bit slight – perhaps a story better suited for a short film – hence its position on this list. It’s still a compelling film, and I highly recommend it to those who enjoy the surreal and offbeat.
9) The Invisible Man
In February, Blumhouse and Universal managed to sneak one final blockbuster into theaters before the pandemic forced the film industry to re-evaluate over a year’s worth of release dates. The Invisible Man was a surprise success. That surprise stems primarily from Universal’s previous attempts at rebooting their old horror franchises. To say that their dream of creating a shared universe of its own got off to a rocky start would be putting it mildly, and if it weren’t for strong marketing and the box-office draw of Elizabeth Moss, I think this would have faded into unjust obscurity.
This timely adaptation of The Invisible Man is finely crafted, and it reaches a level of intentionality not often found in travesties like Tom Cruise’s derailed vehicle, The Mummy. Its cinematography feels almost European, and the set design is immaculately sterile, an aesthetic used to great effect both practically and metaphorically. The film manages to unsettle primarily through unseen threats, with some notable exceptions, and Moss’s central performance ties it all together beautifully.
8) I’m Thinking of Ending Things
I’m a little sad that this year’s Charlie Kauffman offering is so low on my list, but much like Kauffman’s other works, I’m Thinking of Ending Things leaves the impression that it’s going to take several viewings to fully appreciate. The persistent marketing for this one has done some lasting damage to what audiences should expect going in, although how one markets a Kauffman film accurately is beyond me. I refuse to be the guy who sucks all the joy out of your first watch, so give in to Netflix’s rabid insistence that this emotionally-traumatic meditation on life is a quirky indie dramedy, and prepare yourself for some “real art.”
7) Black Bear
Yet another film that relies heavily on the audience’s expectations going in, Black Bear is Aubrey Plaza’s most intense and nuanced performance to date. Christopher Abbott, who you’ve already seen naked in Game of Thrones, also brings his A-game, but it’s clear from the very beginning this film belongs to Plaza.
Black Bear begins as a single-setting, dialog-driven affair – one that would feel at home on the stage. This impression doesn’t last long, and aside from those first twenty minutes, it manages to side-step that stage-y feel with plenty of exterior locations and dramatic plot shifts. I’ve already said too much, but don’t be discouraged if you find yourself experiencing that wave of, “I’ve seen this film before.” Black Bear is a wholly original beast. Let it devour you.
6) Possessor: Uncut
Brandon Cronenberg, son of the almighty David, is finally making movies again. Since 2012’s Antiviral, I’ve been eagerly anticipating his future output as a director, and here we are.
If you’re familiar with the director’s father, then you probably have an idea what you’re in for. Possessor stays very close to the body horror leanings of Brandon’s kin, but the presentation is more proto-realistic cyberpunk than David’s grimy world of dimly-lit apartments and humanoid slime monsters. The film concerns a woman with the technology to enter the consciousness of another human being, primarily for the purposes of assassinating targets for mysterious clients. As the lead’s relationship with this technology becomes increasingly volatile, her boss (played by the legendary Jennifer Jason Leigh) grows ever more concerned about the psychological ramifications of spending time in another’s skin. It’s a simple premise with plenty of potential, and little if any of that is wasted.
5) Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always
If this were a list of the subtlest use of a title to convey a plot point, this would be at number one.
Does anyone remember that time when the Wachowski’s realized that continuing to make sci-fi action films like The Matrix was their only chance at box office redemption, so they made an astoundingly-awful science fiction stinker that involved an inexplicably-shirtless Channing Tatum, Jackie from That 70’s Show, and a performance by Eddie Redmayne that could only be described as a “fortunately-misguided artistic choice”? Jupiter Ascending? I know, it’s hard – I drink to forget too.
In a film so full of astonishingly thoughtless choices, Jupiter Ascending had one lengthy sequence that stood out to me as the most tediously unnecessary montage of scenes imaginable. In a sequence inspired by another in Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, Bee-queen Mila Kunis spends over five minutes doing nothing but visiting space-offices so that she can register with their society and therefore inherit the earth. It’s nothing but Kunis failing to fill out paperwork correctly, and being referred to another office. The first two times, it’s cute, but it eventually becomes an endurance test.
Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always is that sequence in feature-length form, transplanted to a more realistic setting in which a young woman seeks an abortion, only to be met with referral after referral after setback after referral, with some waiting periods in between. There’s nothing glamorous about this procedure, and no stance is taken on the issue of abortion at all. It’s a frustrating film that uses its own frustrating qualities to put the audience in a position of empathy, and it’s quite effective.
4) The Devil All The Time
[Disclaimer: This film involves bizarre scenes of animal cruelty. Then again, you made it this far…]
Robert Pattinson just can’t stop seducing under-aged women on camera. Am I the only one disturbed by this kind of typecasting?
Problematic Twilight-related issues aside, The Devil All The Time is a story full of irredeemable characters desperately seeking redemption. It’s Magnolia made by a detached, anti-theistic director at the height of his career, with an all-star cast.
It’s really fucked up.
3) Pieces of a Woman
Can Shia LaBeouf just take a year off? I’m sick of being forced to acknowledge that this Transformers brat has talent.
Pieces of a Woman is that movie you’ve probably not been hearing about that begins with at least 30 minutes of childbirth. While Shia does a fine job here, he is dramatically outclassed by Vanessa Kirby. The film’s incredible opening had me skeptical, because maintaining that kind of momentum after beginning your film with a hyper-realistic birthing scene is no small feat. By the end, my lasting impressions of the opening were primarily technical – Pieces of a Woman has much more to offer than over half an hour of, “OH GOD THE BABY’S COMING.”
2) Promising Young Woman
This has been sitting at “projected favorite film of the year” status since before it was even released. I’ve been hearing about this damn thing since two Sundances ago, and for the most part, I expected a highly-stylized rape/revenge thriller, with Carey Mulligan playing a smart-mouthed anti-hero out to stick it to the man, and those who enable the man to be a rapist.
Promising Young Woman is a reaction to the type of film I expected it to be. It is a deconstruction of the flawed “empowered” female protagonist, who we expect to have all the answers. This is a feminist think piece on rape culture, and it comes so very, very close to being a didactic and trite essay on its subject. Two things save it from this pitfall: It’s damn funny, and the commentary presented is somewhat thought-provoking. A great lead performance doesn’t hurt either.
1) Kajillionaire
Kajillionaire, the new Miranda July film, started in the tenth position when I began composing this list. Slowly, it worked its way up, and I finally had to be honest with myself – I resisted loving this movie because the director’s previous film has not aged well.
Me, You, and Everyone We Know was July’s introduction to the world. It’s an extremely quirky, irreverently sweet indie comedy that feels right at home circa 2005 alongside films like Tiny Furniture, Little Miss Sunshine, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and the movie that audiences THOUGHT Synecdoche, New York was going to be. The film contains some humorous but rather questionable sexual content involving children, and while that sentence may seem alarming, it’s more innocent than it sounds (for the most part.) That’s usually the biggest complaint I hear about the this movie’s poor aging process, but recent views lead me to another conclusion – Me, You, and Everyone We Know wears its budget on its sleeve, and in the current cinematic landscape, it just doesn’t feel special anymore.
Kajillionaire is Miranda July plus time and money. With a far more recognizable cast that includes Richard Jenkins, Evan Rachel Wood, Debra Winger, and Gina Rodriguez, there’s more serious talent attached to this project than anything July has done before. This fairly simple story about a family of thieves who regularly exploit their only daughter is sad, funny, sweet, and ultimately the most emotionally complex film I’ve seen all year. It’s a damn shame that this is getting buried in the hype for 2020’s more well-known and universally well-received movies, because dammit, Kajillionaire has stuck with me the most. It’s a far cry from Parasite, but for my favorite film of 2020, it will have to do.