Favorite Films — 2020

Earlier this year, I did something that I never thought I would ever do: turn down the opportunity to see a Christopher Nolan film in theatres. One of my friends rented a theatre and invited me to join him and a few other friends to watch Tenet, the film that was “supposed” to save theatres. Yet I turned it down out of not just a fear of my own safety, but that I would be so all-consumed by that fear that I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy the film.

I ended up going to a drive-through (my very first) to see Christopher Nolan’s wacky-ass time bender. Though the projection was dimmer than I would’ve preferred, I was able to enjoy the movie without the fear of death hanging over my shoulder and discover a new way for me to watch movies that has been around for generations. If anything, I enjoyed the experience of watching a movie at a drive-through with my friend than the movie itself.

There has never been a year like this where so many of us consumed movies — many of which were designed to be shown in theatres — on our laptops, our TV screens, our backyard projectors, drive-throughs and so much more. Personally I experienced nearly all of the movies below on a laptop or a TV screen, and though they may not have the same visceral power as they would in a movie theatre, they still had more than enough to offer.

First, I want to give a shout-out to three extraordinary examples of recorded theatre that have overcome my more-often-than-not disdain for the format (not theatre, but the recording/editing of it).

• David Byrne’s American Utopia — Joy incarnate, but also something urgent. At some point you’ll realize you’ve been bopping your head for a while.
• Fleabag —The origin of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s stunning TV series maintains the same charm and depth.
• Hamilton — Lin-Manuel Miranda’s stunning show that follows the path of great historical fiction by shaking off its dusty cobwebs and unleashing a vibrancy often considered incongruous.

Now to the main event: my favorite films of the year.

Runner-Ups: The Invisible Man; Red, White and Blue; Another Round; One Night in Miami…; The King of Staten Island; On the Record; Babyteeth; First Cow; Possessor; Bacurau; A Thousand Cuts; Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

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20. Da 5 Bloods

Like Spike Lee’s other films, Da 5 Bloods is not just stunningly of the moment, but also something deeper, more contemplative and haunting. A complex reckoning of Black characters struggling with their own pain (external, internal and sometimes self-inflicting). This is best manifested in Delroy Lindo’s titanic performance bursting with rage, sadness and courage.

19. Mank

As someone who is admittedly more of a David Fincher cynic than others, I loved this. Not just simply a behind-the-scenes look at Citizen Kane, but something much more. It’s a story about politics and its relation to the self — from its real world consequences to its reductive showmanship at dinner parties. Also a story about self-value and not just in terms of liking yourself, but really what is beautiful about you.

18. Shirley

A fun and delightfully uncomfortable drama of characters sorting through their insecurity and damaged notions of strength and desperate salvation. Elisabeth Moss and Michael Stuhlbarg are predictably incredible, but Odessa Young might give the best performance of the film. She could have been easily dismissed as an audience surrogate, but you feel her pain, her anger and so much more. If you love this film, highly recommend watching Josephine Decker’s previous film, the incredible/beguiling Madeline’s Madeline.

17. Dick Johnson is Dead

A celebration of life, with all the weird idiosyncrasies and beauties of it, handling the all-too-painful subject of Alzheimer’s without a hint of the maudlin. I feared so much seeing the worst parts of this disease on screen and was relieved that she let those parts exist off-screen in a way that feel truly dignified. There’s a sequence towards the end that is such a beautiful crystallization of everything that has come before — not just a “What if?” but showcases how cinema can provide someone an experience that nothing else could.

16. Promising Young Woman

One of those singular films (an astonishing directorial debut from Emerald Fennel) that is in a conversation with its audience. It so often diverts from what we expect to happen, and asks us… why did we expect these things to happen instead of what we’re seeing? Is it because of our rose-colored glasses? Does it feel shocking because we can’t imagine horror unfolding as quickly as it can, or on the flip side, why are we shocked when certain moments aren’t as bombastic as we expect them to be?

15. Nomadland

A quietly devastating movie that is so good in avoiding maudlin impulses (hey, a theme of this list!) in favor of deeply empathetic character beats. It’s about existing in tragedy, which has no end point. You can’t outrun it, but you can live with it… the question is how? This film is also one the best examples of casting non-professional actors: every actor (particularly Charlene Swankie) lends a sense of authenticity to their roles. They are also supported by Frances McDormand and David Strathairn’s incredible performances in relation to them — they don’t feel like movie stars in their world.

14. The Assistant

A ruthless and precise look at what it’s like to be an assistant in a toxic environment and how malice from on top seeps into every facet. The abused can be abusive themselves. Problems are merely punted away. Survival is throwing someone under the bus, yet the film refuses to excuse such behavior in the name of survival. It’s a necessary film for our time.

13. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

Such a weird, beguilingly empathetic film courtesy of one of my favorite screenwriters (Charlie Kaufman) that externalizes via cinema the stuff that is often not shown. Keeps you at a distance, but that’s precisely the aggravating point. I loved it. Some of the more fantastical elements later on starts to feel rather extraneous, but it never ceases to be entertaining or weirdly riveting in one way or the other. Jessie Buckley (Wild Rose) and Jesse Plemons (Breaking Bad) are wonderful and Łukasz Żal’s (Ida) cinematography is pitch perfect.

12. Lovers Rock

A visceral encapsulation of what it’s like to be at a party, especially in the way the night can evolve and/or devolve in unexpected ways that can feel tangential and random, yet always come from a place of truth. You can’t outrun your past, but for one night at least you can also be part of something else. So joyful, euphoric, swooning, occasionally tense, fascinating and often enchanting. Shabier Kirchner’s cinematography is my favorite of the year — an extension of the performances beyond merely being at its service.

11. Beanpole

A film about what happens after the end of the world. And by end of the world I mean Leningrad post-siege, as soldiers and civilians try to piece their lives back together. A story about what happens when you have so little at your disposal. It’s a world where people struggle to reconcile the “value” they believe they have to others versus the “value” they have to themselves. It’s a difficult film to watch, that plunges us headfirst into human suffering on both a literal and emotional level, yet is so focused, nuanced, complex, surprising, unsentimental and moving that it’s more than worth it (at least for me).

10. Palm Springs

Life can feel meaningless till you find meaning in it. Palm Springs sincerely explores that concept with depth, insight and humor, unearthing such a beautifully story of vulnerable people connecting while trying to reconcile with a fucked-up situation. Manages to be silly and serious in equal measure, facing its nihilism with bluntness but also finding something sweet within it. Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti especially are wonderful.

9. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

David Fincher said that drama doesn’t always have to come from conflict: it can come from agreement. One of the most interesting things about this film are how the two main characters don’t have much, if any, conflict between them. No manufactured side-drama or other underlying issues — the closest thing to overt conflict between them are slight disagreements on how to approach certain problems. The drama comes from their bond and how they understand each other, as noted by a poignant scene behind the beam at Grand Central. This film is a testament to writer/director Eliza Hittman’s faith in her audience, and we’re all the luckier.

8. Bad Education

A scorch-Earth reckoning with the banality of evil, and how every small compromise adds up into something catastrophic. It’s about a school district scandal, but its also story of what happens when nearly everyone acts in their own self-interest. Not just thinking about political systems or forms of governance, but businesses as well. When faced with a crisis, do you rise to the challenge or act in your own self-interest, even when you feel it’s unfair? Infuriating, hilarious and at times genuinely optimistic.

7. Mangrove

One of those great courtroom films that understands the politic is the personal and vice versa. It embodies that so beautifully, so fiercely, and without apology. Also a film about what’s in between the lines, whether it’s the twinge of fear in Altheia Jones-LeCointe’s face (an incredible Letitia Wright) when she tries to convince a group of workers to engage in collective bargaining, or the way Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) smokes a cigarette and looks two ways down the street, wondering if he’s still under watch.

6. Time

A devastating and unforgettable documentary that covers twenty years in the life of Fox Rich. The film presents itself as the story of a marriage, but its more so the story of a woman who begins as an idealist, faces brutal blows and struggles to reconcile her faith in a just world that may not exist with the inequity and cruelty of the world she finds herself in. It’s also the story of her family, and what the film beautifully shows is how the story of her family, of her children, is the story of her — intentionally and/or unintentionally. What an extraordinary film.

5. The Nest

The slowest slow burn to ever slow burn. It builds to not a bang, but a whimper. We watch the slow devolution of a family whose fate was sealed long before the events of the film. One match can start a fire. The Nest is one of the best examples of tension I can recall in a recent film — it’s so much about small decisions and how they deliberately unnerve and unsettle each character. Yet none feel melodramatic.

4. Sound of Metal

You ever watch a film and you think you know how it’s going to go down, and it keeps proving you wrong, but not in a glib (GOTCHA!) way, but something truly rooted in empathy and nuance? That’s Sound of Metal: staggering, heart-wrenching, powerful, immersive and devastating in unexpected ways (ex. the final scene with Paul Raci). What’s there to say about Riz Ahmed that hasn’t been said at this point? Don’t forget the name of director/co-writer Darius Marder.

3. Kajillionaire

One of those movies that’s so specific — so in-tune with its universe, not just in the physical tangible sense, or the tonal sense, but the emotional too. It feels like a universe that both plays by its own rules, yet isn’t put upon — you feel the humanity of every person breaking through. There are no moments of convenience — of simple conflict — there’s always some element of each character that threatens to escalate each situation. There are always two stories happening, working in relation with one another, and it creates a sense of depth for each character.

2. Soul

Director/co-writer Pete Docter has always been existential — whether it’s in small strokes in Up or broader strokes with Inside Out and Soul — and it really reverberates through his work. His philosophies — and that of his brilliant co-writers Kemp Powers (also co-director) and Mike Jones — aren’t just statements, but something that his films embody. They can’t exist independent of that. I love nearly everything about this film: its themes, its characters, tone, world-building, humor, emotional depth and nuance, the music, the sense of NYC and so much more.

1. Minari

A fully-realized depiction of a complex Korean-American family trying to navigate the unique turbulence of their new world and personalities, and the inherent struggles that are true to every family. Both specific and universal. It’s so dramatically smart, not in a glib self-congratulatory way, but in how it avoids so many obvious beats that could render the story artificial. Like Eliza Hittman with Never Rarely Sometimes Always, writer/director Lee Isaac Chung trusts the audience to put 2 and 2 together, and we are all the richer for it.

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Favorite Film Performances:

My number #1 is Evan Rachel Wood’s stunning, lived-in, visceral and dare I say transformative performance as Old Dolio in Kajillionaire. You feel her character in every scene, every quiet gesture, every pained glance, and refusal to meet the eyes. We understand where she’s coming in every single moment.

My number #2 is Yeri Han’s extraordinary performance as Monica Yi in Minari — it’s the type of performance that can and should be career-defining. Fraught with sadness, conviction and the struggle to be the person you don’t want to be, only for your true self to emerge, even if its only in glimpses.

As for the rest (alphabetical order by film):

• Another Round — Mads Mikkelsen
• Babyteeth — Eliza Scanlen
• Bad Education — Hugh Jackman
• Beanpole — Vasilisa Perelygina
• Da 5 Bloods — Delroy Lindo
• Mangrove — Letitia Wright
• Minari — Steven Yeun
• The Nest — Jude Law
• Never Rarely Sometimes Always — Sidney Flanigan
• Nomadland — Frances McDormand, David Strathairn
• Sound of Metal — Riz Ahmed, Paul Raci

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Technical Shout-outs:

• Bad Education — Editor Louise Ford
• Beanpole — Cinematographer Ksenia Sereda; Production Designer Sergey Ivanov
• First Cow — Production Designer Anthony Gasparro; Art Director Lisa Ward; Set Decorator Vanessa Knoll
• I’m Thinking of Ending Things —Director of Photography Łukasz Żal
• Lovers Rock — Director of Photography Shabier Kirchner; Costume Designers Lisa Duncan and Jacqueline Durran
• Minari — Composer Emile Mosseri
• Nomadland — Director of Photography Joshua James Richards
• Palm Springs — Editors Andrew Dickler and Matt Friedman
• Soul — Composers Jon Batiste, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross
• Sound of Metal — Supervising Sound Editor Nicolas Becker
• Tenet —Visual Effects Supervisor Andrew Jackson; Special Effects Supervisor Scott Fisher; Composer Ludwig Göransson
• Time — Editor Gabriel Rhodes