Happy New Year! As we bid farewell to 2023 and the awards season begins to come into play, some of the greatest films of the year are seeing their debut. Combine this with the holiday season, when families gather to watch together, and I had an extra busy month of film-watching. So come with me as we look at the new, the old, the good and the bad, this month at the movies…
Anatomy of a Fall
Anatomy of a Fall is the French reimaging of the classic Hollywood picture Anatomy of a Murder. Following Sandra (Sandra Huiler) as she faces prosecution after the death of her husband, the film explores the spaces between truths. There is an objective truth, what really happened, and then there is the subjective truth, how different people interpret different events. Not even we can be certain of the things we have witnessed, and the words said to us, and everything takes on a new life in the eyes of others. By using death on marriage as an exploration of the subjectivity of truth, we take two of the most emotional and dynamic experiences, further heightening the power of these interpretations.
It is no coincidence that the son of the couple who discovers the body is blind. In this instance, blindness helps provide the truth, for if he were to see he would only see what he wants. Daniel’s inability to see blinds him not from the truth, but from the lies of subjectivity. Our other silent narrator is his seeing-eye dog Snoop, who silently sees all but can say nothing. A true observer paired with a subjective detective. The pair is tasked with scouring the truths, with tearing about the foundations of his family, a task a child should never be faced with, and the trial is as much about murder as it is about family and the ideals of those who raise us. A powerful film that knows it doesn’t hold the answers to all the questions it asks.
Bottoms
Bottoms is a film stuck between worlds. On one hand, the film is a fun, hip callback to the teen sex comedy. Featuring explicit conversations, wacky over-the-top schemes, falling outs and coming back to togethers, it’s a very well-done version of a story we’ve already seen. On the other hand, it’s an overt spoof of the exact same genre, hanging lampshades on popular tropes and calling out problematic and outright dumb trends the genre has had. And while both these elements separately work very well, the contrast of the two in the same film at the same time creates a conflict in the viewer that’s hard to reckon with.
Does the film want us to cheer when the football player’s car is blown up, or laugh at the stupidity of it? Are we supposed to find the goth kid who threatens to blow up the school endearing or alarming? By wanting to have it both ways the film is robbed of any tension it could have. We’re supposed to be worried about the all-girl fight club being broken up because of a prank in one moment but be fine with them murdering people in the next. It’s not a trainwreck by any means, but a much more well thought out direction and script would have made this one of the best of the year. Strong performances from Ayo Edibiri and Marshawn Lynch make this worth seeing, but one will probably still leave wanting more.
Dream Scenario
Nicolas Cage continues on his upward trajectory with this bizarre, intellectual look at fame, cancel culture, and the consequences of our want. Cage plays Paul Matthews, a middle-aged professor at a small, insignificant college. Frustrated with his less-than-stellar career in academics, he is elated to find out he has been appearing randomly in people’s dreams, including strangers. He becomes an overnight phenomonom, and his life begins to canter out of control as his roles in these dreams start to take a dark, sinister edge.
Cage is immaculate in the role, a tightly wound spring ready to pop at any moment. He plays the quiet moments, the funny moments, and the moments of rage with equal vigor, creating a complete portrait of the professor. The supporting cast does a fantastic job in filling out the world, and the scenes with his wife (played by Julianne Nicholson) may be some of the most tender put on screen this year. The problem occurs when the film leans more heavily into the satire on modern-day cancel culture, but doesn’t seem to have a solid grasp on the subject. We’re treated to familiar tropes of the downfall of a micro-celebrity, but they seem empty unless played for laughs. Unfocused in its ultimate climax, the film ends up feeling like an interesting idea stretched beyond its capacity.
Godzilla Minus One
I love Godzilla, as a franchise, a character, and a cultural icon. His films range from goofy embarrassments to stunning spectacles, his iconic status representative of not just a nation tormented by the horrors it’s faced and contributed to but the stunning lack of humanity we are all capable of. With this newest film in the franchise Godzilla Minus One we go back to the very beginning and use Godzilla to explore the grand ideas of glory in death, the far-reaching implications of war, and the power of family, found or otherwise. Following the post-war life of Koichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki), a failed kamikaze pilot who had the chance to kill Godzilla as a youngling and failed, we follow his quest to right what he sees as the wrongs of his life when Godzilla returns to Japan.
An at times truly devastating and dazzling visual spectacle, Godzilla Minus One is the perfect companion piece to another of the great films from this year, Oppenheimer. Both explore the ideas of sacrifice and cost, what we’re willing to give for land and country, and what ultimately that loyalty will earn us. Kamiki gives a fantastic performance as the PTSD-ridden soldier, struggling not just with what he’s seen but with the guilt of cowardice. The film perfectly balances the human elements with the blockbuster destruction we expect from the franchise, and is one of the best Godzilla films ever made.
Hold the Dark
Jeremy Saulnier is one of my favourite directors of the last decade. Admittedly, Green Room is one of my favourite films, and that will always give someone a bump. But he is more than that singular picture, as we can see with his debut film Blue Ruin and Hold the Dark, his 2018 Netflix film. Maligned at the time of its release, this unabashedly cold and distant look at the inhumanity within ourselves is a fantastic thriller. Following a retired wolf hunter (Jeffery Wright) as he returns to revenge the death of a young child in the remote Alaskan wilderness, the film is a shockingly dark portrait of revenge and our views of family.
Jeffery Wright is fantastic (as always) as a man torn apart by his past, weighed down by his inability to be a better man. Alexander Skarsgaard is positively terrifying as the father of the dead child, returning from war only to discover the only thing that had held him together has been robbed from him. The film uses the Alaskan setting as a brutal reminder of our infantality on the grand scale of the world, of our complete lack of sense when faced with the bare necessity of nature. There are no emotions, no excess in a world as brutal as this, and all of our frivolity is stripped away in this film until we’re left with our most base nature. A gory, harsh film that will chill your heart.
Hypnotic
Robert Rodriguez is as journeyman as a director can get in Hollywood. A man who pulled himself up from obscurity using hard work, sacrifice, and luck only to become if not one of the biggest names in Hollywood one that at least comes with a semblance of respect. So whenever he has a film come out, at least a little buzz is likely to follow. So when the Ben Affleck starring Hypnotic appeared out of virtually nowhere and bombed spectacularly earlier this year, I thought there must be some mistake. While Rodriguez and Affleck both have their share of bad films, this one had to have at least some juice behind it that could make it an interesting watch.
Unfortunately, that is not the case. Hypnotic is at first a paint-by-numbers cop thriller, only to become a convoluted mess of twists and turns that ultimately lead nowhere. A science fiction noir rip that doesn’t trust its audience enough and handholds us through its narrative only for it to still be completely unintelligible. If it wasn’t so dreadfully forgettable it would almost be embarrassing. The only thing this has in common with a hypnotist is it puts you to sleep.
Leave the World Behind
An ultra-slick cultural commentary that swings between farce and thriller, Leave the World Behind follows an affluent family (led by Julia Roberts and Ethan Hawke) as strange things occur after they rent a house on Long Island. This includes the appearance of a man (Mahershala Ali) and his young adult daughter, who claim to be the owners of the home. Personalities clash and bizarre, terrifying instances lead to a climax of tremendous proportions.
A film on the cusp of greatness, but with many things holding it back from being anything memorable. The script has some incredibly clunky dialogue, the result of an adaptation from the source material novel being treated as too precious to update. The film has more ideas of what is wants to say than answers, simply shouting out first-world problem-esque tropes without really engaging with the types of characters it wishes to satirize. The slickness of the direction leaves a massive gap between the themes and the final product. A film that’s at odds with the messages it wishes to espouse.
May December
Following an actress (Natalie Portman) as she researches a tabloid famous family for her upcoming role, May December has much on its mind in exploring the manipulations people can enforce on others, the lies we can tell ourselves to justify our world, and the way art and life can collide in the worst of ways. Portman is pitch-perfect as an actress on the verge of failure, a pretentious artist who sees everything and everyone as tools for her interpretation. Her performance, while immaculate, is not without humor, poking fun at the idea of art that lacks humanity. Her scenes with Julianne Moore are fantastic, as the two go back and forth, fighting for relevancy in the small worlds they’ve decided to rule over.
But the real star here is the career making turn from Charles Melton. Playing the husband of Julianne Moore who was groomed by her as a 13-year-old and has been in a relationship with her ever since (despite public and personal pressures), Melton’s performance is astonishing. A man who never got to be a child, a boy masquerading as an adult, he is in a constant war with himself. His posture in this film tells you so much about him, hunched over like a man being constantly pulled along, being led through life instead of leading one. The scenes with his children, more peers than a distant generation, are heartbreaking. Watch May December to see a star born.
Panic in the Streets
Elia Kazan made some of the greatest films of the 1950s, a time when much of the output in America was stagnant and refused to press the issues. With Panic in the Streets, we follow a young doctor (Richard Widmark) as he races across New Orleans to pursue a disease before it spreads beyond city borders and across the United States. Tasked with finding the murderers of a man who was infected with the plague, he must enlist the help of the reluctant local police while trying to keep the press at bay, fearing that word of the plague would cause an exodus from the city. A tightly paced race against the clock, the film keeps you on the edge of your seat from opening to close.
Widmark does great as the belabored doctor, pushing against all sides to protect the city from a disease only he seems to know the true danger of. But the real star here is Jack Palance as Blackie, a local gangster and fiend. Palance (in his screen debut) is truly astonishing, a presence remarkable even today. He commands your attention, and a slow sweat creeps onto your skin the moment he enters the frame. If ever you need an example of pure charisma, pure star power, and pure masculinity, watch this film.
Persona
There are many films considered to be the greatest of all time that, viewing for the first time, you will be completely lost. They’re like glimpsing the Mona Lisa, or the statue of David, or having a sunset simply described to you. There is so much there, layers of care and joy and craft, that are all but impossible to parse on a single viewing. Persona is one of those films, a delicately crafted psychological thriller that blurs the lines of ego, memory, id, and more. A film like an origami flower, one where you can spend a lifetime admiring the beauty of it without even beginning to examine the craft. One you’ll feel entirely ill-equipped to watch and discuss, but will be drawn to again and again.
Following a young nurse tasked with watching over a recently mute actress, the two slowly start transferring their personas onto one another. One of director Ingmar Bergman’s many masterpieces, the film is luscious in its portrayal of these women, weaving from intricate portrayals of each to damning combinations of the two and back again. The film intensely explores our ideas of self, friendship, love, and more, and how easily it is to lose the essence of who we are. A film that you can never watch just once and will never forget.
A Simple Plan
A Simple Plan follows Hank (Bill Paxton), his brother Jacob (Billy Bob Thorton), and an acquaintance Lou (the fantastic Brent Briscoe) as they stumble across a crashed plane that has a dead pilot and over four million dollars in cash. The three men, simple men from small-town America, make a pact to keep the money and split it after a certain amount of time if nobody comes looking for it. Things quickly begin to spin out of control as paranoia, greed, and fear rips them apart and causes our protagonists to do terrible, heart-wrenching things in the pursuit of money.
The film is an underseen gem, one of the best thrillers of the 1990s, and features some of the best work from Paxton, Thornton, and director Sam Raimi, that they ever put on film. While this is far from the gonzo stylings of The Evil Dead franchise and The Quick and the Dead, Raimi’s style is still evident here, used to punctuate the paranoia that seeps from scene to scene. Paxton’s slow downward fall from grace is brutal to watch, especially with the addition of Thornton’s simple-minded and best-intentioned brother riding beside him the entire time. An immaculate, stunning descent into the hell of man.
Sing
Illumination as a studio is one that I’m willing to admit I don’t respect very much. As far as animation companies come, they always seem to be the least compelling, the least imaginative, the most willing to sell a product instead of a story. And with Sing we see that, while they can hit effective emotional beats, they come second to selling something simple. Following Buster Moon (Matthew McConaughey) as he attempts to revive his failing theatre by putting on a singing competition, the film follows the wacky group of characters (all with their motives for entering) as they grow into confident performers.
While the animation of the film is fine (if unimportant), the story really leaves much to be desired here. The film is for children and doesn’t aim for anything more than that. While I am perfectly fine with children’s films, they still can be lazy, and simply being for kids is not an excuse for poor storytelling and dynamics. Each character here is simple, one note, with little to know real conflict for them to face. The film prefers rushing from one uninspired hit song rendition to another, and the emotions that do arise are manipulative at best. I think there are worse when it comes to children’s animation, but there is nothing under the surface here.
Sing 2
With Sing 2 our wacky gang of characters is off to the big city, this time looking to put on the greatest stage play ever produced featuring a reclusive and reluctant rock star. And that’s about it. If the first one was uninspired, this one is soulless, having taken everything alright about the first one and stripping it away. There is less singing and more montage to even worse songs. Less clever writing and more dumbing down. Even more pandering and devastatingly unfunny than the first. You come away from this film feeling dumber than when you entered it.
The Taking of Pelham 123
No action director loves the dolly quite like Tony Scott did. An action impressionado, Tony Scott didn’t understand the idea of a still camera, seeing cinema not as an emotional escape as he did a thrill ride made to be strapped into. This philosophy is evident in The Taking of Pelham 123, his slick New York action thriller. Following an everyday Joe (Denzel Washington) as he is thrust into the middle of a hostage negotiation after a group of criminals headed by the maniacal Ryder (John Travolta) takes a subway train. The film proceeds through a series of growingly outlandish elements until the showdown between hero and villain.
The film has a fairly messy approach, and the further along in the story we get the harder it is to suspend our disbelief. The center of this problem is Travolta’s performance, which is broader than a pie to the face and less scary than one too. With Travolta playing a scene-chewing clown, Washington’s more grounded performance looks positively stoic in comparison. Combine this with strange plot designs that are never convincing and Scott’s camerawork which insists on intensity instead of letting it grow naturally and we’re left with a film that could help you cure a Sunday morning hangover, but not much else.
Wind River
Wind River is a brutal, frigid thriller from Taylor Sheridan. Following a wildlife officer (Jeremy Renner) as he helps a young, inexperienced FBI agent (Elizabeth Olsen) investigate the rape and murder of a young Native American woman on a Wyoming Native Reservation. The film is a bleak, unblinking examination of the people left in this desolate snow-blanketed desert, and how the harsh world is reflected in their souls. A cynical look at the bureaucracy that the Native population faces to this day, and how outsiders to this way of life are fully incapable to help. There is futility in this land, but there also has to be hope.
A film ultimately about redemption, whether it’s something we deserve or simply a false promise we tell ourselves to justify our actions, this is a fantastic film. Renner gives one of his best performances, quiet and tense, and Olsen is excellent as a green FBI agent still figuring out how the real world works outside of the office. A tightly wound script that weaves themes of nature in and out of our grasp, and that throws in some truly shocking moments that will leave your jaw agape. Brutal and beautiful.
Wonka
I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong (sometimes, at least). When Wonka, the prequel to the Gene Wilder classic, was announced, I was at best skeptical, at worst dismissive. Even with the inclusion of Paul King, notably for his whimsical work with Paddington, I did not trust this to be a good film. I was cynical, and after watching this magical light film, I realized that cynicism is exactly what Wonka is working against. A beautiful, light-hearted tale of trusting yourself, your friends, and your place in the world, this film helped hold hope.
It should be noted that calling this film a prequel is not accurate. This is a brand new interpretation, not beholden to the Willy Wonka seen in the 1971 film. This Wonka (as portrayed by Timothee Chalamet) doesn’t hold the bitterness or contempt Wilder’s version did. He’s young, he’s bright-eyed, and he’s willing to sacrifice if it means making the world a better place. This portrayal doesn’t come off as sickly sweet or simple, but honest and good. So with a strong lead performance (and even better supporting performances from the likes of Hugh Grant and Olivia Coleman), the film succeeds not just in its laughs but in making the world truly magical. This allows for some weaker elements of the story and the songs (which never reach the greatness as the original) to be overlooked. A film that reminds you what it was like to watch something you’ve never seen before.