Captain Ditrag's Movie Reviews & Singing Videos

Sorry this took a bit longer, but I’m back and ready to celebrate the absolute best that the movies had to offer to me in 2016.  I saw 76 films this year, which might not sound like a lot, but it sure felt like it, since I was going to usually multiple movies a week and I covered a wide variety of movies across pretty much every genre you can imagine.  Also, I saw a lot of good films in 2016, some of which stayed in my mind throughout most of the year and even improved over time, making me shift my opinions on which films I felt I needed to honor the most.

As was the case with the worst of the year, I have a top 10 list to share with you regarding the year’s best, as well an 11-20 list of honorable mentions. Also, like the worst of the year, I didn’t get to see some of the highly reviewed and celebrated films of 2016, like Jackie, The Witch, The Jungle Book, Lights Out, Don’t Think Twice, Deepwater Horizon, 13th and Indignation, but unlike the worst of the year list, the cutoff date I personally set-up to try and keep me on track to finish this quicker (which clearly didn’t work) also kept me from being able to see other films that came out after, like Patriots Day, Paterson, Toni Erdmann, 20th Century Women, Silence and A Monster Calls, as well as strong efforts I saw after said cut-off (and thus can’t talk about here, as good as they are), specifically Fences, Lion and Elle.

Then again, just because people/critics liked some films didn’t mean that I did (or that I liked them as much as they did), which is why you won’t see films like The Handmaiden, Everybody Wants Some, The Birth Of A Nation, Sing Street, Zootopia, Loving, Queen Of Katwe, Moana, The Lobster, Arrival and Rogue One on here, either (so sorry to you, fans of those movies).  As far as what I did put on my lists, sit back and bask in my head-first dive into the movies of 2016 that reminded me why I love cinema so much:

 1. Pete’s Dragon

I’m as shocked as you are that my best film of 2016, of the 76 that I saw, is a remake of a 1977 live-action and animated hybrid.  Yes, the original Pete’s Dragon is something of a Disney cult classic, but it’s something that its diehard fans probably were skeptical about seeing remade, while everyone else likely wondered why it got the fully live-action redo that you’re now seeing atop my 10 Best list.  Indeed, I thought this looked kind of interesting from the trailers, but it took until I mentioned to someone that it came out and their curiosity and review request for me to go see it.  To that person, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that push, because it saved me from missing this magical, rich, exhilarating, poignant, complex and wonderful movie, which had me completely engaged in its characters, completely transported into its world and overjoyed during every minute of it.  It’s also stylistically and narratively different enough from the original that its fans shouldn’t be ruing the existence of this new version and, in its unique approach, I’d argue that this is that extremely rare case where the remake is better and one that, I think, proves the value of remakes, especially when they’re as great as this.  

I said this was a remake, but I think the word “reimagining” may better suit it, because the only thing this film has in common with the 1977 Pete’s Dragon is that it’s about an orphaned boy named Pete who has a green dragon named Elliot as a companion. This new movie isn’t a musical comedy, it doesn’t mix live-action acting with hand-drawn animation and it doesn’t have the cruelly Dickensian foster parents that Pete had in the earlier film. Instead, this movie is a human drama with the expected fantasy element of there being a dragon, which it wastes no time declaring itself as from the opening scene, when young Pete (played wonderfully by Oakes Fegley) is driving through the forest with his parents and the car harrowingly crashes with Pete being the only survivor.  All alone in the forest, Pete is saved by wolves by a dragon with the powers of invisibility, who he names Elliot.  Fast forward 6 years and Pete and Elliot are still living in the forest together, unbeknownst to Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard), a park ranger employed by the nearby mountain town.  Aside from the presence of Pete and Elliot, Grace knows all about the forest, including its legends of a dragon that she doesn’t believe, but her father, Mr. Meacham (Robert Redford), does and he often regales about the dragon to the local youth. Meanwhile, Grace’s fiancé, Jack (Wes Bentley) and his brother, Gavin (Karl Urban) are lumberjacks, the latter of which is cutting parts of the forest down on his own.  One day, when Grace and her daughter, Natalie (Oona Lawrence) try to curtail Gavin’s more wanton logging of protected areas of the forest, Natalie spots Pete and follows him.  After Pete hits his head, Grace takes him to the hospital in town and looks into finding out who he is and why he’s been in the forest all alone.  Pete, wanting to return Elliot, runs away from the hospital, but is stopped and is taken in for the night by Grace and Natalie, while Elliot is left alone in the forest and is being sought out by Gavin, who heard his groan when Pete was found.  As Grace finds out more about Pete, she probes a bit deeper about his life in the woods, to which he tells her about Elliot, which sounds a lot like Mr. Meacham’s story that Grace constantly dismisses, but maybe not for long, given Pete’s willingness to introduce Grace and Natalie to Elliot, as well as Gavin thinking that this mythical dragon is for real and Jack’s involvement in his brother’s dragon seeking.  

Most of the film’s scenes balance between Pete’s bond with Elliot in the forest and Pete’s involvement in the mountain town and the characters living there, specifically via Grace taking him in and him and wanting to return to the forest with his beloved dragon, while also seeing the potentials of a return to domesticated life, and the movie perfectly blends these two halves into an amazingly engrossing, authentic, intelligent and heartbreaking mix of family film adventure/fantasy and child psychology.  I have to be honest; on the latter front, I was not expecting this to be so effective in its look at Pete’s state of mind, perhaps because this is a film intended for families and that I’ve seen so many films like it that deal with the concept of parental death, personal isolation and foster family situations.  Yet, it is, because the movie gives us the time to see how Pete grows as a young boy and shows a reality to both his life with Elliot after his parents are gone and to his time with Grace and her family. The early scenes in the forest are downright magical in terms of how reserved, observant, tender and wise the film is in its depiction of how Pete meets Elliot, how Pete’s innocence breaks through the initially intimidating aura of Elliot and how both complement each other through the years they spend together and tangibly show the bond of a young child and a creature that I’m sure any person in the audience who has had any animal as a pet/companion will be able to relate to.  It doesn’t matter that we have the idea in the back of our minds that the presence of a dragon designates this as a fantasy, because it feels completely real in ways that many so-called “realistic movies” don’t, and that’s because of the patience and care that’s been put into Pete and Elliot’s bond, as well as the most masterful special effects, cinematography and sound design of the year to make the forest they call home feel completely real, from the totally realistic look of the other animals (I missed Disney’s live-action version of The Jungle Book, which was widely celebrated for its animal effect, but it’d have to be quite amazing with its animals to make me think it’s a better looking film on that front than this), the sweeping scope of the flying scenes and the surround sound of the wind whistling through the trees and the sound of snapped branches that had me turning my head and gasping “what was that?” to myself with every single environmental nuance.  

Yet, the film is impressive in that it’s showing us that, as much as Pete is enjoying life with Elliot away from civilization and as beneficial as their relationship has been for Pete, it’s still an example of him bottling up the undeniable tragedy of him losing his parents.  That complexity is further emphasized when Grace finds Pete, yet the movie is also not saying that the solution to Pete’s development and emotional baggage is merely finding a human family.  There’s one scene that, the more I think about it, really shows that depth and complexity in a way that few films like this do, especially given the way that scenes like it usually play out in movies like this.  It comes after Pete is brought into the hospital by Grace after he bumps his head and, while Grace is talking to the doctor, Pete runs away and is chased down. From a pure filmmaking perspective, this is an incredibly exciting and amazingly constructed passage, as we see Pete ferally jumping and running on top of moving cars in his attempts to escape those chasing him and return to his beloved dragon.  Eventually, he finds himself trapped in a corner and is caught, after which we see Pete being held by Grace while he begins crying.  I was deeply moved by this just thinking about the idea that we feel his pain and desire to return to Elliot, but I think it’s also subtly working on another level, which is that, as much as this is an expression of Pete wanting a return to his life in the forest, it’s also the first time that he’s been put in a position requiring him to realize on his own that his parents are gone and, understandably, he’s not ready to do so. Keep in mind, when his parents die, it’s when he’s still barely left infancy, but the movie explains that he’s been with Elliot for 6 years and until now, Pete and Elliot have been inseparable.  Now without Elliot, Pete’s deep-seated memories of his parents’ death is reawakening and, at this point, the film is vividly and touchingly underscoring that without words and without explicitly telling us.  Of course, that becomes clearer later, given Grace’s care for Pete (including her finding out just what happened to him) and also, via Pete’s willingness to show at least a little interest in involvement in Grace’s family (specifically, via the sisterly bond he develops with Natalie), but I love the way that this film allows the audience, both young and old, to have the opportunities to put the pieces together like that and in ways that are already open to more than one interpretation (remember, if you just think of him missing Elliot, it works on that level alone).  I can’t tell you how much I admire and appreciate that because, along with giving additional depth, realism and points of discussion in a film that, let’s be honest, you don’t exactly go into expecting to be that deep, it shows a respect of the intelligence of the audience that they’ll be engrossed and intelligent enough to enjoy the movie and read into it deeper. Especially in a film with children as a target audience, it’s even more admirable and, as such, I’d like to think that kids (and adults) will attach to this on many levels, particularly with its willingness to not talk down to them (which, even if kids don’t realize at their age, they tend to pick up on in a basic sense before extrapolating on it later in life).

The whole movie has that level of depth, care, intrigue, resonance and complexity and, honestly, it’s something even the original Pete’s Dragon lacked.  With all due respect, there was always something too simplistic and cynical about the 1977 film to me, particularly Pete’s nature as an orphan and the attempts at blending it with musical/comedic elements often undermined the drama (as opposed to similar and better Disney live-action/animation hybrids like Mary Poppins and Bedknobs & Broomsticks). Take the so-called “villains” in this new Pete’s Dragon film.  There are similarities in that both the 1977 film and this one focus on characters wanting to use Elliot as a money-making attraction, but whereas the original movie’s villains were cartoonish and over-the-top (despite being humans), there’s a unique complexity to them here.  When I saw Jack and Gavin introduced as wantonly cutting down trees, I initially thought “oh, the movie’s setting them up to be the typical evil, nature-hating logger types,” but I was wrong.  They’re not bad people, so much as they are misguided at times, yet even their ill-advised actions are still understandable, given that they do have jobs as lumberjacks that they need to hold onto to keep themselves, their families and the mountain town afloat.  In addition, the movie lets us see that both Gavin and Jack are real and complex men with unbreakable brotherly bond and dedication to protecting their families (both very well conveyed in the film’s climax) and hey; given that no one in this movie (except for Mr. Meacham and the children) believes that Elliot is for real, their reactions to them finding out he is real does make sense, even as they initially go about reacting to it in the wrong way. So, yes, Pete’s Dragon is a case where the remake is better than the original, yet it’s also not just making the same movie again or actively feeling like it’s replacing the film that made this one possible.  Amazing.

I loved every minute of this movie and there are so many people and elements that need to be given credit for that.  From the top, we have director David Lowery of Ain’t Them Bodies Saints fame (a film I definitely will be catching up on after this triumph), who expertly paces the film and infuses it with an aura that perfectly complements its mix of fantasy and realistic elements (particularly its transporting mountain-side and forest locations), but we also have the expert script by Lowery and Toby Halbrooks, the amazing and nomination-worthy technical credits of the film, the lovely Celtic-style music score by Daniel Hart and the strong acting by Karl Urban, Wes Bentley, Oakes Fegley, Robert Redford, and career-best work by Oona Lawrence (who previously irked me in Southpaw, but not at all here) and especially Bryce Dallas Howard, all of which and all of whom kept me engrossed, touched and enchanted here.  Given all that, it should make sense why I believe Pete’s Dragon is easily the best movie of 2016, especially since it’s a movie that, like Pete’s dragon, Elliot, soars high above and beyond the basic expectations of a film like this and shows a level of care, dedication and love that I hope for out of every movie I see and doing it as both a remake of and a transcendent improvement on pre-existing material.

 2. Moonlight

Every so often, a film comes around that has a specific focus on a certain culture and walk of life that, along with capturing its subject material and themes just right that makes it speak to one specific audience, it has such a deep understanding of human nature that it has an indelible and surprising universal appeal to others, as well.  Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight, which came out of the film festival circuit quite strongly this past fall, is a film like that, telling the story of Chiron, a young African American boy in Florida attempting to decipher his personal identity, voice and sexuality amidst harsh bullying, social despair and a troubled home life with his drug addicted mother, as told in 3 parts depicting his growth as a child, a teenager and a young adult.  I personally have not had the exact life experiences as Chiron does in this film (or in the play this film is based on), yet there’s such an incredible truth, intrigue and power to this film and its method of telling us Chiron’s story that I deeply connected with this lyrical, engrossing, poignant, authentic and masterfully constructed drama that also has a unique and indelible complexity to its themes and characters to make it a further transcendent and exciting experience.

The movie, as I specified, is told in three parts showing different points in Chiron’s life.  Part 1, Little, shows Chiron as a young boy, played by Alex Hibbert, being chased by a group of kids in the opening, before hiding away in an abandoned apartment building.  He’s found by Juan (Mahershala Ali), a local drug dealer who takes a liking to Chiron, as does his girlfriend Teresa (Janelle Monae).  Chiron initially doesn’t speak to Juan or Teresa, and when he does, Juan brings him back home to his drug addict mother, Paula (Naomie Harris) but, a few days later, Chiron has returned to Juan’s house, tipping Juan off to just how difficult Chiron’s home life is.  Juan and Teresa continue to be supportive of Chiron, particularly as Chiron begins to wonder if he’s gay, while Juan also begins to question his own way of life.  This continues into Part 2, Chiron, which looks at Chiron’s life as a teenager, played now by Ashton Sanders, who is bullied in high school and sees his relationship with Paula become even more stressed.  Meanwhile, Chiron starts to become closer with his fellow classmate, Kevin (Jharrel Jerome) who, along with Teresa, are the two people he’s seemingly able to connect with amidst his difficult home and school life.  The final part of the film, Black, shows Chiron grown into a 30-year-old adult, now played by Trevante Rhodes, and now living on his own, but even so, his past still is a part of him and he’s still trying to find himself in his way, especially when he gets a phone call from someone vital from his earlier years whose identify I will not reveal (though I will say that he’s played by Andre Holland, and quite well, too).

That synopsis doesn’t make this film sound like there’s a lot of story here, but there’s even more that I’m not mentioning to avoid spoilers and also, the movie’s all about the details of the life of Chiron and of those around him, which are legion and make for an extremely rich, complete, gripping and moving portrait of this world and the characters.  At each stage of Chiron’s life, the film perfectly captures the personal/emotional quandaries and challenges that people of all walks of life face at those age, while also emphasizing the unique struggles he faces and the traits that make him unique, specifically in relation to his reactions and outlook on those around him and how they have an indelible effect on his own sense of self. We see the balance between the harsher elements of his life, particularly as they relate to Paula and his bullying, and the brief refuges from those things via his bonds with Juan, Teresa and Kevin that help Chiron better understand who he is and, again, it’s the details of how the movie explores everything that makes it so relatable and fresh, despite some seemingly familiar elements.  Let’s be honest; there are many dramas looking at African American characters in poverty, broken homes and in a world surrounded by drugs and despair, often with the perspective of emphasizing the tragedy and damage that it causes, and though Moonlight certainly isn’t shying away from that angle, it has an intriguing level of intelligence, complexity and subtlety about itself that makes it stand out and truly connect with the audience in a deep and tangible fashion far beyond a simple message picture.  Regarding the drug element of the film, there’s a realism to it from not just the expected angles of Paula’s spiraling addiction and the resulting abuse of Chiron in relation to it, but also from the perspective of Juan, who deals drugs and begins to understand his own moralistic streak after meeting Chiron as a boy, especially when Chiron’s realization about Juan and Paula result in him asking pointed questions to Juan about that and also, about his own burgeoning identity.  The scene where Chiron does that is one of the best in the movie, and there’s a quiet power and truth that both he and Juan reach, especially when Chiron, wondering if he’s gay, asks Juan “how do you know?,” to which Juan replies with the simplest, yet best and most directly profound answer to that question; “you know when you know.”

The sexual identity of Chiron is a key theme of the film, but lest you think this movie is simply going to be a didactic exercise in Liberal moralistic homosexual tolerance messaging, it goes much deeper with it by hitting at many deep realities regarding personal and sexual individuality that even a straight man like myself can completely relate to. The movie is very moving and unique in its depiction of the trajectory of Chiron determining his sexuality, which dovetails beautifully with him trying to decipher his own identity as a whole. As I mentioned earlier, Juan and especially Teresa provide a more positive environment for Chiron to find himself than Paula and the kids at school do, but what’s interesting about the negative reinforcement that Chiron faces is how the film leaves the question of whether they know if Chiron’s gay or not as an open-ended one.  Compare that to the usual depiction of homophobia in the movies, where it’s all about the characters knowing of the homosexuality of the person they’re using slurs against; here, Paula’s animosity towards Chiron consists of subtle clues to whether or not she can detect that her son’s gay, while with the kids at school, their verbal attacks on Chiron suggest that their usage of slurs against him are more of a lucky guess and attempt to exude their masculinity more than them actually knowing Chiron’s gay. Yet, in the middle of all this, we see the damage that this is causing Chiron, as well as the quiet build towards his reactions to that and him trying to determine for himself what his orientation is, and the way in which his positive and negative experiences tie to him ultimately realizing who he is (and whatever that may be or may entail as it relates to his life), show a profoundly wise, devastating and uplifting understanding of human nature and development that works in a way that will speak to gay audience members, for sure, but also viewers of any sexual orientation who will be able to relate to their own experiences with identity-related bullying and personal discovery.

This movie is an incredible achievement on the back of its deep and authentic drama alone, as well as the expert script-writing by Jenkins and the outstanding performances by Hibbert, Sanders and Rhodes as Chiron, Naomie Harris as Paula, Mahershala Ali as Juan, Janelle Monáe as Teresa and Andre Holland as an adult blast from Chiron’s past, yet Moonlight is also a triumph in regards to its effectively artistic, exciting and expert display of film direction/construction.  There’s something incredibly lyrical and sprawling about Jenkins’ Oscar-worthy direction here, which emphasizes both a vast scope of the Florida locations inhabited by Chiron and the other characters and an intimate focus on their personal drama, as well as an excitingly artistic aura to its view of Chiron’s experiences, the latter of which it amazingly does without ever feeling like sanctimonious showing off.  Jenkins’ directorial confidence and strength almost becomes a character in and of itself, which adds to the exhilaration and attachment that we have for the story and characters, and dovetails wonderfully with the film’s expert pacing, its strong music score by Nicholas Britell and the completely transporting and exciting cinematography by James Laxton.  In terms of its marriage of cinematic form and content, Moonlight is as close to perfection as a film can get and so rich and rewarding is this film that, as deep as I went into singing its praises, I could imagine myself revisiting, studying and finding a multitude of additional elements to explore, praise and better understand, and if that’s not the sign of a moving, exhilarating and indelible modern masterpiece, I don’t know what is.

3. Midnight Special

Jeff Nichols is a filmmaker who specializes in strongly emotional and close-to-the-ground dramas that have a uniquely and appealingly raw, subtle and authentic pull and power, particularly on the topic of the bonds of family.  He’s quite a talented up-and-coming director, as evidenced by his earlier films, Take Shelter and Mud (the latter being on my 10 Best List in 2013), and in 2016, he made two movies; one being the interesting enough, but tonally off and disappointing Loving and the other being the sci-fi drama, Midnight Special which, if you couldn’t already tell, is the one I’m about to shower with high praise.  This one came out way back in March and, despite some solid reviews, it didn’t catch on with audiences and seems to be all but forgotten now, but it’s an excellent movie that’s sprawling, complex, engrossing, emotionally rich tense and was, to me, the year’s best cross-section of science fiction and human/familial drama (and yes, that does mean that I think it’s better than the recent and somewhat similar Arrival, a film that probably would have been better to me if I hadn’t also seen this superior one).

Michael Shannon and Joel Edgerton star as Roy and Lucas, two friends who, as the movie opens, are leaving a cheap motel and taking a young boy named Alton (Jaeden Lieberher) with them. Before they leave, they see a news report talking about how Alton has gone missing and has apparently been kidnapped by Roy and Lucas.  In actuality, Roy is the father of Alton, although he did technically kidnap his son by taking him back from the compound of a local cult run by Calvin Meyer (Sam Shepard) and his assistant, Doak (Bill Camp), who say that they need to get Alton back no matter what and have tipped off the police to the car that Roy and Lucas are driving.  However, Calvin and Doak are also facing their own legal trouble, as the FBI has raided their compound and is taking away members of their congregation for question because they’re also seeking Alton.  Meanwhile, there’s another person curious about Alton; NSA agent Paul Sevier (Adam Driver), who has a specialty and proclivity for the supernatural.  What’s the special element about Alton that makes so many want to find him?  I don’t want to completely explain that, for fear of spoilers, but I’ll say that he has a mysterious aura that grants him unique sci-fi powers (particularly regarding his eyes), which the cult, FBI and Sevier are curious to understand and/or use for their own purposes.  Meanwhile, Roy is trying to protect his son, with the help of Lucas and Alton’s mother, Sarah (Kirsten Dunst), while also avoiding capture and trying to help Alton get to the place that he claims he needs to go, even as it becomes clear that Alton reaching his destination could have life-changing developments regarding himself, his parents and maybe the world.

As you may be able to guess, the movie has a lot of things going on as it relates to who or what Alton is, why he’s being sought out and what others may want from him, and it’s to the film’s credit that it expertly builds upon its setup and keeps the stakes and our involvement in them high, due to the additional narrative details and twists it deliberately reveals, as well as how it effortlessly intertwines them with the potent human drama.  Nichols understands that one of the keys to great science fiction films (and, for that matter, any kind of film with otherworldly themes and concepts) is to provide the audience with a reality of its human subjects to, in turn, create a tangible reality to the science fiction elements of the movie’s world and story, and that’s exactly what Midnight Special does.  The familial bond between Alton, Roy and Sarah and their individual developments regarding the situations they find themselves in is affecting, authentic and strong, to the point where even if this was merely a grounded and realistic drama, it would still be extraordinarily effective. There’s a quiet fascination and pain to Roy, who has deeply moving and believable personal feelings that he’s failed Alton in the past (particularly by allowing him to be taken in by the cult) and sees his mission to deliver his son as his redemption test, if only to assuage his own personal demons.  Yet, when the outside pressure begins to push down on him, Roy’s fears are only further intensified and externalized, which is something that, even at his young age, Alton is able to catch onto that and respond by providing his father with the emotional comfort and protection that Roy has been trying to give his son, along with the expected physical manifestations of.  The pivotal scene related to that comes when Alton and Roy are in a field together and how, through very few words, they come to the realization that both have been working to take care of each other in their own way and that, no matter what outcome of this journey will be as it relates to this family, Alton and Roy’s connection is one that no physical entity will ever be able to break. The film does a wonderful job of deliberately building to this point via its expertly deliberate pacing, while also showing a father-son dynamic that’s the year’s strongest and most authentic (even amidst others in films on this list) via an incredibly emotional and on-point moment in a film with multiple touching human connections already, including Sarah’s intriguingly and uniquely reserved grace and strength as the implications of the eventual outcome of her son’s mission start to emotionally hit her.

Even outside of the family, however, the film shows a deep interest in exploring the motivations of its supporting characters.  The most significant is Lucas who, through his deep friendship with Roy and familial outsider status, provides the support and encouragement that Alton cannot, resulting in a lovely and natural byplay between the two as they both are able to confide in and assist each other.  Yet, even the more shadowy and seemingly villainous characters are developed in a way that keeps them from being simplistic, dull and unbelievable, because the movie gives them the time, depth and complexity to understand their motivations and why they’re so determined to find Alton, which also provide our early conduit into what’s exactly going on here before we get involved with the family (or even know Roy is Alton’s father, for that matter).  The inner workings of Sevier are interesting and his keen eye, effectively modulated techno-jargon explanations and perhaps shifting motivations as he learns more about Alton make him a unique wild card that keeps us guessing, while even the FBI members and cult leaders Calvin and Doak have their own reasons for their involvement that, given who they are/believe, make sense.  All of the human elements of the film tie in to the sci-fi elements of it very well and give us more reason to be curious in seeing how everything is going to be resolved and, speaking of the ending, of the people I’ve heard from who’ve actually seen this, there are some divided opinions on it, particularly regarding how effective it is and whether it raises more questions than it answers. Personally, I love the film’s denouement, as it gives us enough answers to our basic questions so that it left me completely satisfied (along with being satiated with everything else the movie does well), but it also left the door open for various interpretations of what everything that happens means and represents from the physical, spiritual and supernatural points of view.  Actually, on that point, even with my own pretty good idea of what the ending was and signified, I was thinking about all the little intricacies, subtleties and alternative explanations of this one for days after I saw the movie, to the degree that I’d actually love to see this one again to find out if I interpret it differently the second time through, and this is a great enough film that it’s worth seeing more than once, as opposed to some films that are barely worth a single viewing.

Clearly, this is a film that was very well thought out by writer/director Jeff Nichols, whose script is sharply, intelligently and observantly written and whose direction shows the clear confidence and control signifying a born filmmaker via his effortless balance between the various characters, settings and subplots, the moody and gripping atmosphere he creates, the masterful pacing and a couple of expertly set-up jump moments (one of which is unbelievably effective and nearly heart-stopping).  Also adding to the film is the top-notch acting by leads Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton (even better to me here than he was in Loving), Kirsten Dunst and Jaeden Lieberher (who finally delivers on the potential he showed in the atrocious St. Vincent, while also suggesting that, between that junk and Aloha, perhaps along with a good script, another key to him giving a good performance is not being in a movie with Bill Murray in it), the strong supporting work by Sam Shepherd, Bill Camp and Adam Driver, the excellent cinematography by Nichols’ regular Adam Stone and David Wingo’s atmospheric music score. This film does require your deep attention and involvement, but trust me when I say it’s deserving of it, given how rewarding, mesmerizing and emotionally impactful this now seemingly underrated triumph is.

 4. Hell Or High Water

On my 11-20 worst of list, I had Money Monster, a film that attempted to probe America’s current day economic struggles while mixing it with the classic movie genre/formula of a hostage thriller, but really did a bad job of it, due to how irrational, ignorant and insultingly ideological it was on the former front and how dramatically and creatively ineffective it was on the former front.  Fast forward 3 months later and we got Hell Or High Water, which is also viewed through the lens of the same current day issue, but is infused within the DNA of a heist/Western hybrid picture, and wow, what a difference.  This is the kind of movie that proves the famous theory on film criticism by French New Wave director Jean-Luc Goddard of how movies, in their styles and execution, have good and bad counterparts and how the good films are the best form of criticism against similar bad films.  Where Money Monster failed is every area where Hell Or High Water succeeds, as it’s an engrossing, smart, transporting, tense and excellent movie that truly understands the current decade’s monetary malaise and is also able to transcend its familiar genre trappings via its masterful writing, direction, acting, and sense of time and place.

The film focuses on the Howard brothers, Toby (Chris Pine) and Tanner (Ben Foster) who, in the opening, are robbing the Texas Midland Bank and then head off to rob another branch in a nearby town.  Afterwards, they return to their mother’s ranch, which was left to Toby after her death, but the bank will foreclosure on the ranch on Friday unless they are able to pay them the $40,000 to buy it back.  In a sense, it’s because of this, as well as Toby and Tanner’s belief that the bank squeezed their mother on the mortgage costs to keep her in economic squalor before cheaply acquiring the ranch after her death, that they’re robbing the Texas Midland Banks, but there’s more to it than even that, particularly as it relates to the brothers’ damaged pasts regarding their father, as well as a rift that formed between them following Tanner’s string of imprisonments, some of which may have manifested out of their upbringing and which, to Toby’s worry, may still be a permanent part of Tanner’s identity post-release and is already throwing a wrench into the methodically thought-out master robbery plan of Toby.  Meanwhile, the robberies have gotten the attention of the FBI and local police, but because of the comparatively low amount of money that Toby and Tanner are stealing from each branch, the investigation is tossed to the Texas Rangers, specifically, Marcus Hamilton (Jeff Bridges) and his half-Mexican/half-Indian partner Alberto Parker (Gil Birmingham).  Marcus has worked for the Rangers for years and, because he’s set for mandatory retirement, he goes all in on the case, given his nervousness of retired life due to the economic despair he sees around him, particularly related to the people he personally knows and the working-class leads he talks to as he and Alberto seek Toby and Tanner. Alberto is also noticing the monetary struggles, as well as how his and Marcus’s current case is pretty unique to the ones he’s faced before, particularly as it regards the pattern of the robberies, which at least gives him some extra experience and excitement alongside Marcus, as well as the pair’s societal and racial jabs towards each other that they both take and dish out about equally as they continue their manhunt for Toby and Tanner, while the latter are reaching the end of their robbery plan.  

So, Toby and Tanner are committing crimes in a semi-righteous fashion in relation to their personal struggles to make ends meet and how they and their mother were screwed over by the local banking system… or are they?  Yeah, there are a lot of gray areas regarding that in this movie, as well as to what degree are they villains and to what degree are they victims. Unlike the aforementioned Money Monster, which was completely deifying its criminal character and simplistically preaching “working class everyman good, economic power structure bad,” this one dives deep into the particulars of the lives of its leads, as well as all of its characters, to really understand the machinations of the economic system as it relates to them (a theme that director David Mackenzie has previously shown his interest and intelligence regarding in his underrated 2004 film, Young Adam).  Indeed, many are getting screwed over, yet there’s an intriguing and revealing contrast made to the vastly different ways in which every economically struggling character is coping with that, even among those that turn to crime as an answer, namely, Toby and Tanner.  This movie takes the time to make us understand why both of these brothers see the robberies as their way out without blanketly justifying them or condemning them, and the differing level or moralities that they have as it relates to their past.  Unlike Tanner, Toby doesn’t have a criminal past to him, which causes him to go off on his brother when he doesn’t follow the plan, particularly as it relates to hurting others (including the way Tanner pistol-whips the bank manager at the beginning of the movie), while Tanner’s simple response to Toby’s objections is often a simple “I don’t care.”  In another movie, that would perhaps signify that Toby is the virtuous of these two criminals and Tanner is the irredeemable villain, but here, when put into the context of the tortured (and also, torturous) relationship with their father, we realize the vastly different ways in which they compartmentalized that trauma. Toby was able to cope in his way, at least until his mother passed away, but Tanner was not, hence the latter’s lack of self-control and long criminal history (including a chilling suggestion to one of those actions of Tanner’s) and also, how Tanner feels even more guilt on how his personal failures are currently letting down Toby on occasions as they commit the robberies and how they also let down his mother by his crimes resulting in him being jailed near the end of her life, requiring Toby to handle things on his own.  Yet, even with all the things we find out about Toby and Tanner, the film’s sober, uncompromising and thought-provoking look at them and their situations isn’t pushing us to feel one way or the other about them personally, but instead, study their complexities and contradictions in the context of their scheme and their internal thoughts about everything, while also revealing their strong and tangible brotherly bond.

The movie also effectively balances that with the struggles of the other characters and the community/local citizens surrounding them. There’s a reason why, all throughout these movie, we see signs on the sides of the road mentioning businesses closing, houses being foreclosed on and once stable areas now being abandoned, and that’s emphasized closer to the ground as we follow Marcus and Alberto.  It adds a great sense of weight and atmosphere that emphasizes the drama, as well as seeing the Rangers’ interactions with robbery witnesses and waitresses who served Toby and Tanner that dovetail perfectly with the brothers’ struggles and the personal uncertainties of Marcus and Alberto, which also perfectly capturing their feelings of despair and worry of what the future will hold for them.  However, even with all this heavily social commentary and drama, the film’s level of truth regarding that isn’t oppressively hopeless or despairing, so much as it’s forming a bridge between the movie and the audience to come to a better understanding of our current economic climate and our attempts to push through it, and also, this film is really entertaining on the level of its authentic drama, but also its expertly crafted and enthralling criminal procedural, action, western and even darkly humorous elements, particularly as the latter relate to authentic details about Texas life (even though the film was shot in New Mexico) that are effective on their own, while also strangely complimenting the story.  Most of this comes from the back and forth between Marcus and Alberto, as well as the people they meet in their investigation, where their knowing attitudes about their speech patterns, cynical economic outlooks and even how, due to Texas laws, most of the citizens openly carry guns (a detail that leads to a great response when Toby asks one of the customers if they’re carrying one during their second robbery and a pretty intriguing way the open-carry laws tie into the third act resolution).

In addition, the sharp and surprising script by Sicario scribe Taylor Sheridan keeps us guessing as to the developments and resolutions of the story and characters, the pacing is excellent, Giles Nuttgens’s cinematography effectively captures the New Mexico/Texas hills, mountains and deserts and complete envelops us in this world, the direction by Mackenzie is strong, there are some shocking effective action bursts (which also mean more, given our attachment and/or rooting interest in the characters) and the acting is nothing short of magnificent.  Much has been made of Jeff Bridges’ turn as Marcus, and deservedly so, but I was also quite impressed by Gil Birmingham, who has a great individual strength as Alberto, as well as dynamite chemistry with Marcus, and especially Chris Pine and Ben Foster as Toby and Tanner.  Their brotherly dynamic is absolutely spot-on and the way they are able to peel back the layers of their characters as the film progresses, both through their dialogue and in some effective silent moments, is quite extraordinary.  It also shows a different and exciting acting side to Chris Pine than I had previously seen and, though I’ve liked him in the modern Star Trek movies and in The Finest Hours early in 2016, he's really announcing himself as an excellent young actor with his career best work here. For all those reasons and more, Hell Or High Water is an excellent and transcendent film that is equally strong for those looking for a pure entertainment, those wanting narrative and societal substance out of their movies and those like me who love when the two are shown to not have to be mutually exclusive concepts, and if you’re looking for what I believe will go down as the best non-documentary cinematic document and understanding of the economic atmosphere of the period of its release, here’s your film.

 5. Finding Dory

After I named Up as the best movie of 2009, I personally think that the CG animated film studio Pixar kind of went downhill from there.  Since then, they made letdowns like Monsters University (their worst film in my eyes) and Brave, while the ones people claim are masterpieces, like Toy Story 3 and Inside Out, were not to me, thanks to them crumbling narratively under the weight of their admittingly admirable ambitions (the emotional punch of Toy Story 3’s last scene doesn’t forgive the painfully predictable third act journey to that point and Inside Out’s recycling of the Pixar improbable journey formula and the unmotivated scorn and hatred of Sadness undercut its look at child psychology).  2016 saw Pixar sequelizing their 13-year-old Finding Nemo, a film I liked, but didn’t love and that, along with the aforementioned 6-year malaise of Pixar, the memories of director Andrew Stanton’s last movie, John Carter (my 2nd worst film of 2012) and the trailers that suggested an “I could take it or leave it” affair, made me skeptical about Finding Dory.  But wow, was I wrong, because this wonderful, smart, in-depth and emotionally powerful masterpiece that returns Pixar to prime form with a film that’s not only that rare sequel that improves on the original, but also the best animated film in a strong year for the genre, as well as a perceptive and vital look at people with disabilities in a year where Hollywood mostly treated them like dirt (including by Disney themselves via the Heihei character in their recent Moana).

The film takes place right after the events of Finding Nemo, where Marlin (Albert Brooks) and his son, Nemo return home with Dory (Ellen DeGeneres), the blue paracanthurus with short-term memory loss that helped the father and son reunite.  However, Dory is now living in the Great Barrier Reef with Nemo and Marlin because, as we see in flashbacks, she lived with her parents (Eugene Levy and Diane Keaton) when she was young, but was washed away from them by the undertow and has been wandering around ever since without being able to remember why.  The only memory she retained was her parents’ advice to “just keep swimming,” which is how she ended up meeting Marlin and why she’s living with them now.  However, one day, after wandering off while in her “job,” of sorts, as the field trip chaperone for Nemo’s school, Dory goes near an undertow and, in combination with a young student asking where her home is, Dory’s starts remembering the details of her past and how she does have a home where she once lived and parents who are waiting for her.   Dory’s condition, of course, results in her not always remembering this, but she’s overjoyed that she actually remembers something and, with help from Marlin and Nemo, Dory’s able to remember the Jewel of Morro Bay, California, where she believes her parents are.  She convinces Marlin and Nemo to come with her and assist in finding her parents, but after Dory’s excitement nearly ends up getting Nemo killed by a squid, Marlin lashes out and negatively uses her disability as punctuation for his rage, resulting in Dory swimming off and getting caught by researchers for the local Marine Wildlife Institute that specializes in capturing, healing and releasing sea life, so says their celebrity PA announcer (whose identity is too great to reveal here).  The rest of the film jumps between Marlin and Nemo attempting to gain information and navigate the institute to find Dory and, more significantly, Dory wanting to search the institute, where she hears her parents may be now living, But even away from Marlin and Nemo and with her disability impeding her search, Dory isn’t alone, as she’s assisted of some of the institutes’ inhabitants who also have a disability of some sort and their own outlooks on how they cope with it, including Destiny (Kaitlyn Olson), a near-sighted whale shark who was a childhood friend of Dory’s, Bailey (Ty Burrell), a beluga whale with a head injury that he believes prevents him from using his echolocation skills and, most significantly, Hank (Ed O’Neill), a bitter octopus who lost a tentacle (he’s now a “septopus,” as Dory points out in a great line) and has teamed up with Dory to escape as he bounces between resentment and respect for her.

I used the word “disability” a lot in that synopsis because, unlike Finding Nemo, that’s the angle the movie is focusing on with the traits of the creatures at the institute and, most of all, Dory’s short term memory loss (the 2003 film touched on that a bit with some of Dory’s emotional scenes, mixed with her effective comic relief, which made sense, since she was a supporting character there and not the lead). Right there, the film shows that it’s not one of those sequels that just rehashes the plot of the original, but you also see that in the scenes depicting Marlin and Nemo’s father-son dynamic as they search for Dory, which do a great job of complementing her story, while also expanding on the bookends of Finding Nemo that established their bond. On that front, the film is strong in its depiction of Nemo’s continued growth, Marlin coping with that and also, Nemo’s outlooks on Dory that achieve the same kind of perhaps unintended, but authentic and perceptive profundity about her, who she is and her condition, that can often come from young children in real-life who are old enough to start seeing the big picture of life, but have not yet developed the cynicism, impatience and neuroses about such heavier topics that can sometimes cloud adults’ views.  We get said clouded outlooks and outbursts from Marlin (including the one I mentioned that hurts Dory and makes her swim away), but knowing who he is (even if you’re just seeing this without having seen Finding Nemo), the way he acts, to a degree, is understandable and authentic, as is his earned realization of his mistake and how wise prior to his years his son is, and the film’s encapsulation of that, and their father-son ebb and flow is tangible, relatable and quite special.

However, the big dramatic hook here is how it looks at Dory and her short-term memory loss, which it does with authenticity, intelligence, complexity, poignancy and grace.  I said that I thought Pixar’s last film, Inside Out, was overrated because, despite taking a similarly heavy psychological focus in regards to its central character, Riley, I think that movie was a case of its heart being bigger than its brain. I felt it was so in love with its great concept of personifying human emotions that it didn’t realize how offensive it was regarding the portly Sadness character, whom most every character hated for no motivated reason before reaching a conclusion that proves her worth in a way that, along with being really cynical with the attempt to slink away from the fat-shaming angle the movie brought in and undermining its emotional punch, is totally unbelievable (even by the standards of the film’s semi-fantasy logic), given the emotions’ decade plus time together guiding Riley (basically, you’d think they’d have realized that years ago). Finding Dory sidesteps that issue because it does not shy away from the realities of Dory’s disability, both regarding her and the other characters around her, but it’s also not shaming her for it, nor is it going over the top with or inadvertently condoning the impatience and cruelty that she faces because of it.  The movie is patient in how it lays out her struggles, starting in the authentic flashbacks with Dory’s parents, who love their daughter and are showing her undying affection and assistance, while also talking to themselves about how they know the world is going to be more difficult for Dory because of her disability and that they’re extremely worried about both that and their potential failure as parents if they can’t properly prepare her for adulthood.  I can personally relate to that very strongly and the film does an amazing job of emphasizing that balance from the perspective of the parents, but also from Dory herself, who knows she’s different and, even as a young fish, knows enough from seeing her mother crying that she wants to assuage her fears by trying to be as independent as her short-term memory loss will allow, while also avoiding the constant reality of potential trouble/pain because of it.  

Given that, Dory’s interactions with Destiny, Bailey and especially Hank, are crucial to the movie’s success on this front because, after facing the cruelty of Marlin, they provide the contrast to her struggle that show her that she’s not alone, while also emphasizing to her and the audience exactly how these characters compartmentalize their traits, both positively and negatively.  While Destiny is upbeat in the face of her vision problems, Bailey is letting his injury control his life, even after he’s apparently been cured of it, while Hank has deep-seated self-loathing about his lost arm, the latter of which Dory has to be on the receiving end of the most. Like Marlin, Hank is showing Dory his impatience and frustration with her, but unlike Marlin, he’s doing it constantly and, to be honest, we can understand why from the start, even as we know he’s being misguided and mean about it, yet unlike Inside Out, it’s actually motivated believably from the character, as opposed to the plot demanding it happen.  That last part is important, because when we get the scene where Hank realizes the error of his ways, it feels authentic and earned, because Dory’s confrontation of him, which is the catalyst of that, cuts deep at Hank’s own hang-ups.  Hank is always saying he wants to leave the institute, but only after Dory calls him out is he able to be freed of the fears he’s bottled up regarding what being just a seven-armed octopus could mean for his future, in terms of how he’ll live, how others will view him and his fears that similar events that led to him losing his one arm will happen again, especially the longer he stays at the institute.  

That point shows that the bond between Dory and Hank goes far deeper level than just them trying to reach a physical destination. As Dory is able to break Hank out emotionally, he’s able to show her the power she has to control her own destiny, which, for Dory, blend together with the brief returns of her deep-seated memories and personal feelings about who she is as an adult wonderfully, leading to a brilliant late scene where she opens her heart about the realities of her life, both in terms of her and others’ struggles/feelings about her short-term memory lost.  Speaking as someone with a disability myself, that scene is so amazingly and heartbreakingly dead-on, that I was moved to tears.  Also, looking back on 2016, just thinking about that masterful scene and the build-up to it increases my rage towards films like Moana, The Nice Guys, The Accountant and Me Before You, mass-market movies that hate people with disabilities with a violent passion and see them as nothing more than plot props and targets of ridicule, even when they claim they’re being deep and penetrating about them or holding themselves up as “progressive” (and on the latter, I say this is a far more positively progressive movie on the female empowerment front than Moana is).  I hope everyone involved with those films sees this movie and that scene because, if they have any common decency, it should result in them hanging their heads in shame on the back of witnessing a mass-market movie like this that really understands people with disabilities in a way that no other major non-independent release this year (or arguably, any other recent year) has.  

Yet, despite how surprisingly wise and vital this movie is about its central dramatic topic, I don’t want you to think that Finding Dory is a depressing downer.  On the contrary; along with being so effective as a psychological and dramatic character study, it’s also a beautiful, creative, sometimes quite funny and excellent animated entertainment for both kids and adults. Also, unlike some other Pixar movies, though this does follow their trademark “improbable quest” formula regarding its story logistics, they feel fresh this time, thanks to a plethora of unique, clever and hilarious touches (the climactic action scene at the end is proof of that, and I will not ruin even one second of that brilliant insanity), as well as the more knowing attitude of the characters, which are expertly voiced and brilliantly embody and disappear into their roles.  Also, the animation is fluid and lovely, the atmosphere is tangible, both in the brighter and darker underwater and near-water set pieces, the writing is excellent and the film is wonderfully directed by Andrew Stanton & Angus MacLane and well-paced, which reminds us that, even in an era where most big budget films run for 2 ½ hours, regardless of whether they should or not, packing a film with so much and delivering it all so well in a breezy 97 minutes is still a good thing and something to admire.  Finding Dory is the best animated film of 2016 and, just like Pixar’s best efforts, it holds its own with the year’s live-action efforts, while entertaining, moving connecting with us in ways that some of those movies are unable or unwilling to.  Welcome back, Pixar; we missed you.    

 6. Swiss Army Man

The last line of the very bizarre Swiss Army Man from writers/directors Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, or Daniels, as they call themselves in the credits, has Mary Elizabeth Winstead stating a certain profane three-word confusion-expressing sentence to describe the sight she and we are seeing. I’m pretty sure that there will be many people asking that same question a lot during this and also, as they read my explanation for why I think it’s one of the year’s best films, and certainly 2016’s most audacious and original one.  On the surface, it’s a story about island/wilderness survival of two men trying to get home in one way or another, but underneath, it’s a lot weirder, deeper and darker than it looks and, for something that may sound like a pretentious artsy gimmick movie, it’s actually more grounded and insightful than most films that you can put that label on and it’s also engrossing, unpredictable, strangely hilarious and shows a mastery of narrative tone management which, given this film, you wouldn’t think it would be able to cross the disparate mood spectrums that it so deftly does.

The film stars Paul Dano as Hank, a young man deserted on a remote island with a nothing left now but an empty cooler, some empty Cheetos bags and a rope.  It looks like the end for him, so he tries to hang himself but before he does, he sees that a man’s body has washed onto shore and goes to see if he’s still alive.  He then hears the body evacuate its bowels signaling that yes, he’s dead, but when Hank goes to the rope for another suicide attempt, he sees that the man is continually farting, meaning that he can’t be dead and, when the body is taken out by the tide and propels itself forward with its flatulence, Hank sees a potential to escape and proceeds to ride the fart-propelled body across the water like a jet-ski to get back to civilization (in all the years I’ve been writing about movies, I never expected I’d be describing that in any movie, let alone one that was good enough to make my 10 Best list).  When they get back to shore, Hank carries the man with him and they take shelter in a cave, all while Hank continues to get mixed signals to whether the man is actually alive or not.  The closest sign he gets to the man being alive comes the next morning when Hank, after finding that the man’s mouth has become a source of water after his lungs were filled by the rain the night before, hears the man speak and he calls himself Manny (he’s played by Daniel Radcliffe; yes, the same one who played Harry Potter).  Thing is, that’s not exactly a confirmation that Manny’s still alive because, although Manny can speak, he can’t move and he can’t remember much of anything about himself or about life, in general.  As such, Hank tries to jog Manny’s memory by starting from the beginning, namely, by explaining to him what bodily functions are (including the defining flatulence trait that got them off the island), what sex is and explain various pop cultural milestones, such as the movie Jurassic Park, Netflix, the Sports Illustrated annual swimsuit issue and, via Hank’s creation of metal demonstration figures and models, the Nintendo Gamecube game, Chibi-Robo. As Hank and Manny continue on their journey and get closer, Hank explains the concept of love to Manny by telling him about Sarah (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a girl he met on the bus and wants to get closer to, while Manny reveals additional skills that he has with his nearly dead body, including chopping wood with his hands, using his throat as a grappling hook launcher and, after getting an erection from seeing the Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, using his phallus as a directional compass.

Yes, all of what I just describe and even more does happen in this movie, I’m not joking, and to say that this film will not be to all tastes is the understatement of the year.  Even so, I was completely delighted and fascinated by this movie, starting with the fact that I could not predict where it was going. The main reason for that is the film’s depiction of Hank and Manny’s budding relationship, which is strangely appealing and believable, continuously surprising with all the new skills that we learn Manny has and, at times, is achingly hilarious, particularly with their priceless back and forth discussions (two of my favorites being  Manny learning why, in the world of pop culture, it’s vital to know what Jurassic Park is, and Manny not getting why fantasizing about Hank’s mother is a social faux-pas, even after Hank yells at him for it).  In addition, the film does a brilliant job of tying their growing bond in with the mental state of Hank, which is actually the most significant source of the film’s unpredictability.  You see, by both Hank’s and the movie’s own admission early on, it’s not clear as to whether if Manny is actually alive or dead and, for that matter, it’s also unknown if Manny’s real or just a figment of Hank’s imagination.  The movie expertly keeps us guessing what the revelations to those quandaries will be all the way until the end, which is quite an accomplishment, because most movies I see that have me wondering how all the narrative pieces will fit together usually give me an idea about a scene or two ahead of the big reveal.  On top of that, just when I thought I had it all figured out in the third act, they throw in a big twist about Hank that, although it fits with everything we saw up to that point, it completely changes our perspective of it all based on the darker and creepier direction that it shifts the picture into.  

I wouldn’t dare even hint at what that surprise is, but I’ll say that it solidifies the film as an uncompromisingly twisted, disturbing and, ultimately, vital look into the depths of human psychology and human nature and, amazingly, the twist not only has the intended skin-crawling effect on us, but it reaches that without feeling like cheap exploitation and without feeling that the tonal change is out of place.  I’ve seen many movies that start out, I guess, bizarrely whimsical in its mood like this one does, and then go dark in the third act, especially in similar independent films.  Actually, this movie reminded me a lot of Michel Gondry’s The Science Of Sleep from 2006, what with some of its wood-cut and wire-cut props and utilization of those to explain both surface and deeper concepts of life and love with characters who, despite being adults, have a mental streak more in common with young children (in the case of this movie, the idea of Hank breaking down the first 18 years of human development in simple terms to Manny, as well as some of Hank’s own attitudes and outlooks).  However, The Science Of Sleep really hurt itself to me because there was always this cloyingly precious, pretentious and annoying attitude it had about itself and, when it tried to look at the harsh reality of its lead character, not only did it clash with the aura of the rest of the film, but psychologically speaking, the movie refused to play fair regarding that by basically letting him off the hook for his actions.   That the Daniels, through their strong writing and assured direction, so effectively avoid those traps, navigate the heavy tonal shifts and maintain a self-effacing aura about the film’s strange and morbid nature and elements is a miracle.   Also miraculous are the scatological elements of this film.  I’ll be honest; I usually don’t like fart jokes in movies because, in most cases, it’s done for the purpose of embarrassment of the characters and getting a rise out of the audience by making us go “Eww!” and uncomfortably recoil (and the use of stock sound effects for it only underlines how calculated and inauthentic it often is).   By sheer coincidence, I saw this movie right after I watched The BFG, which did exactly what I hate and turned me off over it, while this film handles that, as well as all of its other potentially cringe-worthy themes, in a refreshingly matter of fact way (and with unique audio for them), while also spacing them out so that the movie is not just an 100 minute long fart joke (which some critics have tried to say it is, but I strongly disagree).  That, as well as the effectiveness of the film as a whole, are strongly bolstered by the authentic chemistry between the two lead performances, which are excellent and, in their way, kind of brave.  Paul Dano shows a level of intriguing complexity as Hank, which guides us through his situations, even when we learn more about the reality of them that may or may not be flattering.  He’s matched and, arguably, surpassed by Daniel Radcliffe, who has the harder role to pull off as the dead or perhaps not dead Manny, because he has to straddle that line throughout the whole movie, which he does with some amazing dead-man physicality to his body movement (often by him pretty much having to stay still while an outside force makes him respond somehow) and a perfectly modulated and delivered dead-pan voice to his line readings.  Honestly, I’m not sure what other actors could have portrayed Manny as well as Radcliffe does here and, even in a career with good turns in 8 Harry Potter movies and other strange and ambitious projects like Horns and a much-discussed stage role in Equus, this may be his best performance and, though it’ll never happen, it’s totally deserving of an Oscar nomination in my eyes. As I said at the start, Swiss Army Man isn’t a movie for everyone, and its weird elements and ideas will likely have some feeling it’s pretentious and/or echoing Mary Elizabeth Winstead at the end (oh, and speaking of her, she’s also quite good in her small, but very crucial role here).  For me, though, in a year where the unabashedly bizarre artsy films out there consisted of ugly and depressing dreck like The Neon Demon and Nocturnal Animals, this is the one that excited, delighted and had my full attention and thoughts with its qualities and, if you’re an adventurous/psychological movie-watcher like I am and want the best, freshest and, ironically, most alive cinematic challenge of 2016, this is the one to see.

 7. Sully

There are many challenges that come when making a biopic about a real-life event, three of the biggest being justifying it over a documentary about the same subject, giving a sense of authenticity to the story while still being a compelling retelling and giving a unique perspective on the chosen subject.  Doing those things becomes even harder when the real story in question is so famous, as was the case with the great United 93 from a decade ago and, in this case, Sully, the newest film from director Clint Eastwood. Honestly, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t know the story of Chesley Sullenberger, the captain of US Airways Flight 1549 that made a miraculous casualty-free emergency landing on the Hudson River on January 15th, 2009 and indeed, I knew about it going into this one, so I was curious as to how it would tell the story and what new angles it would provide to both Sully and the “Miracle On The Hudson,” as that famous landing was known.  Well, the movie mixes the depiction of the landing with its immediate aftermath, specifically Sully’s sense of self-doubt, questions of whether or not he really is the hero that some were saying he was and his post-traumatic stress “what-if” thoughts about it, all during the NTSB investigation of the crash, making for a tense, fascinating, dead-on accurate, expertly crafted and expertly acted triumph that’s both a great document of this significant piece of recent American history and an intriguing, revealing, unique and vital psychological dig deeper into it.

Tom Hanks stars in the title role as Sullenberger who, as the movie opens, is having multiple nightmares where he crashes his plane in New York City.  In reality, he and his co-pilot, Jeff Skiles (Aaron Eckhart) had recently pulled off an emergency crash-landing on the Hudson River after a flock of geese got sucked into and destroyed the engines of US Airways Flight 1549 shortly after take-off.  Amazingly, the landing was a success and all 155 people on board the plane were able to walk away safely, which captivated and uplifted many in the national press and local citizens, particularly in New York.  In response to the crash, the NTSB begins their investigation about what happened, resulting in Sully and Jeff being brought in for questioning by one of the chief investigators, Charles Porter (Mike O'Malley).  Porter is questioning Sully and Jeff’s account of what happened and believes that, despite the miraculous outcome, they acted recklessly by not flying back to La Guardia, especially when the investigation shows that one of the engines was apparently still functioning and the NTSB simulations using the data from the plane suggest it would have been able to reach the airport safely.  Sully and Jeff push back against the accounts, believing that the sims didn’t take into account the factors that led Sully and Jeff to make their decision and that landing on the river, at the time, was the only option to avert a potential tragedy.  In between the investigations, the movie flashes back to depict the landing from the perspective of Sully and Jeff, as well as the current mental toll it took on them, particularly Sully, who keeps wondering if he really did make the right decision, isn’t completely comfortable with being given the title of hero from the citizens he meets and, more than anything, just wants to return home to his wife Lorraine (Laura Linney) and his two daughters.

Like I stated at the top, many people know the basic story of Sully and the landing going in, as did I, so it’s quite impressive that the movie is able to be as compelling and, in a strange way, unpredictable as it is.  Of course we know in the scenes depicting the crash that everyone is going to survive, but the way the film reaches that known outcome is expertly handled by director Eastwood so that, while we’re engrossed in the harrowingly accurate account of the plane going down and the struggle to evacuate and reach land safely (all while trying to avoid the icy cold water of the river), we’re still asking ourselves how and if they’re going to make it out OK, even though we subconsciously know that they will.  That’s a pretty difficult thing to do in a movie when you think about it since, as audience members, we’re often prone to tuning out of a film when we’re able to predict lockstep how everything will happen, so the idea of not feeling like we can call everything ahead of time and on a story that most people buying a ticket already know the resolution of is quite an accomplishment. I think one of the keys to that is the film’s jagged narrative structure, a technique that can sometimes be a needless distraction in the movies, but is a perfect fit here.  By mixing up the scenes showing Sully’s flashbacks, his interactions with fans, the development of the NTSB investigation and, ultimately, the scenes of the landing, it not only effectively emphasizes Sully’s shaken and scattered emotional state from the landing and everything happening in its aftermath, but also makes those ancillary elements the narrative focus from which the overarching event of the landing are driven by, both narratively and dramatically.  As to why we’re still excited and curious as we see the landing re-enacted, it’s because we’re curious as to how it will tie to the other threads of this story that the audience may not know going in, while also being amazed how well conveyed the landing is on its own.  In a way, it’s not unlike Paul Greengrass’s great United 93 from 10 years ago, another docudrama about a headline-making event regarding an airplane (albeit one far more terrifying and heartbreaking than this) and, like Sully, it also focused on multiple angles of its story, also was about people making quick/semi-controversial life-or-death decisions and was harrowing and gripping in its details, despite us knowing mostly how it would ultimately play out.  

Along with enhancing the landing scenes, the psychological look at Sully and the walkthrough of the NTSB investigation add an indelible, wide-reaching and very intriguing perspective to this story and its main players that, even in a world with many books, interviews and TV documentaries about Sully and the Miracle On The Hudson, make this film stand out as its own unique and vital document of this story. The scenes of the investigation play out like a great procedural, with a strong attention to detail of the job of an airline pilot and the related safety and regulatory bureaucracies, as well as showing the interesting and complex dichotomies of both.  Porter’s pushing heavily on the idea that perhaps Sully and Skiles took an unnecessary risk with all the information that came out after the fact, but we also see that Porter, as well as his fellow investigator, Elizabeth Davis (Anna Gunn), are being personally pressured themselves by their superiors with wrapping up the investigation as fast as they can (which we especially see as it relates to the data entered into the simulations that claim the plane would have made it back to the airport safely). Despite what it may seem, and despite some criticism this picture has gotten on this front, there’s a complexity to Porter, Davis and the investigation that shows an interest in showing the depth and evolution of the characters, the situation and their initial mindsets and effectively avoids the clichéd antagonistic government red-tape logistics argument against the everyday workers who became populist heroes for just doing their job that we’ve seen in similar films based on real-life events (like 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers Of Benghazi, which succumbed to just that).

Meanwhile, Sully and Skilles are interesting in how, along with having to compartmentalize the trauma of the event they personally experienced, they mine it to build their case that they made the right decision in the moment, while also constantly second-guessing themselves.  This is where the psychological angle of the film is introduced and the film does an excellent job of exploring both men’s mental state following the landing and showing how both cope with it, both personally and among others.  We see the latter effectively during the scenes between Sully and Skillies as they build their defense and back each other up during the depositions, but we also get to know their personal bond over more typical situations like them ordering room service at the airport hotel or going for a brisk midnight jog.  Yet, the best example of this is in in the scenes when Sully is on the phone with Lorraine, as both Hanks and Linney, despite not acting together on-screen, capture the dynamic of married couples talking out their inner thoughts and providing each with comfort with authenticity and emotional resonance, from the perspective of Sully questioning if he’s actually a hero and wondering if he should have done it differently, and from Lorraine admitting to Sully a few days after that she’s only now emotionally reacting to her own “what if,” that is, what if Sully had failed to safely land the plane.

As such, we connect to the potent and investing human element underneath and we see how it drives Sully and Skilles’ handling of their defense in the investigation, both substantively and even with a dollop of effectively matter-of-fact humor (the film’s last line, delivered by Skilles, is a great example of the latter, and it’s an absolutely perfect closer). It also emphasizes how strong the writing of this movie is, how strong its attention to detail of its subjects, themes and setting are (this is exactly what 2009 New York was like) and especially how strong the acting is. Hanks as Sully is intriguingly reserved, believable and giving a complete and Oscar-worthy lead performance here, but, as I suggested before, it’s not just his film, as we get similar time and depth to the other characters that make them just as vital to the film.  Aaron Eckhart is one of my favorite underrated actors, as he’s shown his skills across genres, while sometimes, hitting multiple different notes in the same film, as was the case with No Reservations, Thank You For Smoking and The Dark Knight, and he’s does the same here as Skiles and in another excellent performance.  Also strong on the supporting side is the aforementioned Mike O'Malley, Anna Gunn and Laura Linney, but also Valerie Mahaffey as Diane Higgens and, in a great cameo, Michael Rapaport as a bar owner.  Along with the strong writing, atmosphere and acting, the direction by Eastwood shows his expert control of the film’s multiple story threads and fantastic pacing of everything, the special effects of the landing are seamless and great and even the jazzy music score, done by Eastwood himself, is great and fits in well with the movie.  When this opened in September, many people asked me if this is even a movie they would need to see, given their familiarity with the real-life story coming in, but even if you think you know everything about it and about Sully the person, Sully the movie has all that and a lot more to make it well worth your while and one of the year’s best.

 8. Manchester By The Sea

For this, and the following two films I’m listing on this 10 best, I’m going to level with you. Unlike the 7 films you just read about, I didn’t give any of these next couple of pictures 4 stars when I originally reviewed them, because they all have noticeable issues that were enough to keep me from giving them that score that would infer that they’re either perfect or close enough to it.  Having said that, what these three movies have in common is that they are stellar films that had unique and indelible effects on me when I first saw them but, more impressively, they’ve all stayed with me and have come back into my mind again multiple times as the weeks and months passed.  That’s quite a statement, given how many movies I see and how even some of the films above haven’t resonated with me quite like these have, even though I do think they’re better and are totally worthy of the 4 stars I gave them.  Manchester By The Sea is the new drama from writer/director Kenneth Lonergan, whose You Can Count On Me from 2000 was a great and underrated look at the complexities and despair of families brought together by tragedy, and so is this one, albeit via its laser-like focus on death, the grieving process that comes from it, the changes that come from it and, most significantly, the unique ways that we compartmentalize it, in terms of how we react externally and especially internally to it, the latter of which can, for some, be more painful for the wounds it reopens than even the tragedy of the death itself.  This is one of the most celebrated movies of the year and, given how unbelievably engrossing, reserved and authentic it is about its subject material, there’s a good reason for that, even with some of its shortcomings.

Casey Affleck stars in a role that will deservedly get him an Oscar nomination (and perhaps a win) as Lee, a man living in the Boston apartment that he also works his job as a handyman in. In his job, he shovels snow from the sidewalks, does odd jobs and basic repair work for the other tenants and takes the garbage out for everyone. Yet, he has his limits, because he’s not equipped with the experience or skills to make heavier fixes, particularly the frequent plumbing problems he’s called about (he constantly tells people in that situation that they’ll need to get someone else in to fix them), he’s not always emotionally equipped to handle the tenants, particularly when he explodes on a woman who doesn’t take his “call a plumber” advice well or recoils from the sexual desire of another woman, and he really doesn’t care about much more than getting through the day, or for that matter, the night, where he often goes out drinking and then gets into a bar brawl because people looked at him in a weird way.  Clearly, Lee has some baggage, and he’s given more when he gets a phone call telling him that his brother Joe (Kyle Chandler) has died of congestive heart failure, which results in Lee returning to his hometown of Manchester to manage the legal, familial and funereal details associated with his brother’s passing. One of the biggest elements to be handled is regarding Joe’s son and Lee’s nephew, Patrick (played by Lucas Hedges); he’s 16 years old now and, with his father’s death, the question comes regarding his custody until he turns 18, especially since his estranged mother, Elise (Gretchen Mol), is seen by Lee and most of the rest of the family as being ill-equipped to take care of him.  Joe’s will addresses that concern, but does so by stating that Lee is to become Patrick’s legal guardian, something that Lee and Patrick were never told about.  Lee begins watching over Patrick for a while, but struggles with whether or not it’ll be a permanent decision, especially given the very painful memories that Joe’s death has opened up and him being forced out of his recent isolation in Boston, particularly as both relate to Lee’s ex-wife, Randi (played by Michelle Williams), while Patrick tries to cope in his own way, alongside the limited assistance by Lee and the growing tension that comes from it, as well as with the help of his friends, including two girls he likes, Silvie (Kara Hayward) and Sandy (Anna Baryshnikov).

As you can likely tell, this is a pretty rich and dramatic film as far as its stories and characters are concerned, all of which are, in one way or another, reacting to Joe’s death in their own unique way and, of everything this movie does well, it’s this angle that impacted me the most, and it’s the most authentic and vital element of the film.  To get a bit personal here, my grandfather died this past year (and, ironically, right before that happened, I was visiting Boston and slightly norther Massachusetts) and this movie’s depiction of death, the multitude of methods for and contradictions related to how people process it and the emotions that it brings out, is absolutely dead-on.  The best scenes emphasizing this are the early scenes in the hospital and the morgue, where see just how muted Lee’s reaction to his brother’s death is, which is contrasted with the reaction of family friend, George (played by C.J. Wilson), who was with Joe when he collapsed and went with him to the hospital.  Unlike Lee, who is bottling up his feelings (which we completely understand as the movie goes on), George is showing his emotions significantly more than Lee is and the byplay they share with the doctor and nurse in the hallway is brilliant and authentic, particularly how it shows the awkwardness as they talk about Joe’s death and the next steps to be taken. Because of how reserved Lee is with his feelings and how open George is with his (especially since the latter was in the unique and unenviable position of watching his friend die), they can almost barely talk to each other while, at the same time, of what emotion they’re showing, both seem to be acting as if they need to try to avoid becoming emotional, particularly when George apologizes to the nurses for starting to break down and we later see that out of Lee when he goes to see Joe’s body at the morgue, quickly appears to show some feeling over seeing him there, but quickly pulls himself back before almost immediately telling the doctor who brought him down there that “that’s enough.”  We also see that later when Lee has to break the news to Patrick, the latter of whom had gotten into a fight with his hockey team and was angry and annoyed when Lee appeared because he thought it signified that “my father’s in the hospital again,” but when Patrick learns that his father is dead, we also see his initial reaction, which seems to be a hybrid of Lee’s detached aura and George’s outward expression.  Yet, with Patrick (as well as the film’s other characters, in their own ways), we also get a very touching and believable sense of the evolution of his feelings, based on how he copes with the support of his teammates, his coach (played in a great cameo by Tate Donavan) and friends, but also, how the sight of seeing his father in the morgue (for an even briefer time than Lee did) and the news that the cold winter weather will require his father’s body to be preserved in ice until they can bury him in the spring shakes him to his core, to the point where even the sight of something as simple as frozen chicken in the freezer at home reawakens those feelings and emotionally overcomes him. There’s something quite amazing about how this movie captures the grieving process, as well as how it shows these characters, specifically Lee and Patrick through their relationship, reaching the point of being able to continue on with life as best they can, even with all the pain that comes from Joe’s death that, particularly in Lee’s case, shockingly has almost nothing to do with his brother’s death.  Again, speaking from personal experience, even if the details of this movie are not exactly my experience (I certainly haven’t experienced the extremely dark demons that return to haunt Lee and Randi, which we see in pretty harrowing, but subtle detail in flashbacks), there’s such a great attention to detail and understanding to the characters’ compartmentalization of Joe’s death and their feelings resulting from it, that I deeply connected and felt for them, which the movie does in a way that, despite how heavy the subject matter is, didn’t depress me, but gripped and, in a strange way, uplifted me because of how dead-on accurate the film is (and I think it’ll have a similar effect on other viewers because of that).  Credit for this goes to the strong writing by Lonergan, which captures the authentic chemistry of this cast, the strangely affecting and realistic sardonicism of the situations and the ebb and flow of how people talk, specifically in regards to the mixture of hostility and heart that often arise from such tense situations as we see here (specifically with Lee’s evolving bond with Patrick and a particularly heartbreaking surprise meeting that Lee and Randi have after Joe’s funeral), the appropriately deliberate pacing, and the layered, resonant and excellent performances from the entire cast, particularly Affleck as Lee (excellent in showing, often without words, just deeply scarred and now, emotion expression-phobic he is), Hedges as Patrick and, in their vital supporting roles, C.J Wilson,, Michelle Williams, Gretchen Mol and Matthew Broderick. In addition, the film has transporting and expert cinematography by Jody Lee Lipes, who perfectly captures the working-class and harbor town Massachusetts life in Manchester, as well as the feeling of the locations, particularly in the winter the film is set, in ways that complement the drama on both large and more intimate scales.

I also appreciate and understand the open-ended mentality of the film but, to be completely honest, I think it might have went a little too far with that.  I’m not saying that this movie should resolve everything at the end (it shouldn’t), but there are couple of clear questions that the film raises as important elements that it refuses to answer or even hint enough to.  For example, Lee’s alcoholism is presented in a refreshingly subtle fashion, but the movie is making the case that it has a detrimental effect on his current janitor job and later, on a potential job he could get in Manchester, but I didn’t feel we got enough of that.  For the former, after Lee tells off one of his tenants, he tells his boss that he doesn’t care and that he’ll just make it better anyway without him losing his job and that’s it, while for the latter, we get the assistant of a mariner office telling the owner that, as far as Lee is concerned, “I don't want him coming here anymore," which is then completely dropped and results in an unsatisfying loose end that clashes with the main choice Lee has to make regarding his guardianship of Patrick.  Speaking of Patrick, the relationship he has with the two girls he’s sexually interested in results in Silvie getting ditched in favor of Sandy, but annoyingly, it’s because the movie chooses for him. Again, I appreciate the lack of cliché (I’d have been more upset if it turned into a traditional love triangle or resorted to an emotional confrontation), but Silvie literally disappears from the film, which diminishes the ultimate resolution of that story arc.  Same goes for the ending, which does fit for the whole “life goes on” mentality that the movie is going for, but still seems abrupt, as if one more scene beyond that would have been the perfect way to cap off an otherwise stellar, authentic and engrossing drama.  

Also, I really disliked Lesley Barber’s music score here, which goes the operatic bombast route in a way that distracts from and, in some places, kind of diminishes the drama that’s already quite powerful on its own, not to mention how it also uses licensed music to inappropriately underline the emotions in ways the rest of the film doesn’t (namely, the resolution of Patrick’s girlfriend situation, which is terribly on-the-nose).  Still, despite being an imperfect film, Manchester By The Sea is an impeccably crafted and acted drama that has the ring of truth about its characters and themes and, though I admired it a lot when first I saw it, its lingering presence and power makes me appreciate and love it even more now.

 9. Hacksaw Ridge

Remember Mel Gibson? Yeah, he’s been out of the movies for a while following some well-known personal troubles, with an occasional return to acting every so often in smaller releases like Get The Gringo and The Beaver (the latter of which is a real hidden gem that he was excellent in). Yet, he was also a director, who won the Oscar in 1995 for making Braveheart and then, made other high-quality and super-violent personal projects like The Passion Of The Christ and Apocalypto.  Now here we are 10 years after that latter film and Gibson is back to directing with Hacksaw Ridge, a World War II biopic about Desmond Doss, a Seventh Day Adventist from Virginia who became a medic and was allowed to enter the battlefield, despite having a religious opposition to killing and, more importantly, to carrying a gun.  Hearing that, some may think this is a hypocritical and holier-than-thou religious lecture, and it does have its clunkiness early on, but as it goes along, it evolves in a way that no other film in 2016 did, before ultimately becoming one of the best and riskiest depictions of faith that I’ve seen in the movies in a while, as well as a gripping, expertly constructed, very brutal and authentic war film that reminds me why Gibson is such a great director and shook me up and had me on edge more than any movie in 2016.

Andrew Garfield stars as Desmond who, as we see as the film opens, is on the battlefield and being carried away on a stretcher.  The film goes back in time to show us Desmond living in Virginia with his brother Hal and his parents, Bertha (Rachel Griffiths) and Tom (Hugo Weaving).  At this point in time, Tom is a World War I veteran and, for reasons that we soon understand, he came back a changed man and now spends most of his day drinking heavily and, at times, takes the concept of corporal punishment of his sons a bit too far, which we also see for a period in Desmond.  As the years pass, Desmond has become active as a worker at his local church, as well as following God’s teachings, and one day, when man’s leg is crushed while working on a car, Desmond helps him by trying to stop the heavy bleeding and take him to the nearby hospital. While there, Desmond notices that they’re asking for blood donations and becomes interested in doing so, especially when he meets a nurse named Dorothy Schutte (Theresa Palmer).  At first, she dismisses his boyish crush on her, but Dorothy later agrees to go out with Desmond on a date and the two start to fall in love.  Meanwhile, Hal has enlisted to fight in World War II, which devastates Betha and especially Tom and Desmond himself follows suit, albeit with the plan to become a medic by building on the knowledge of medicine and healing that his now fiancé Dorothy inspired him to expand.  When Desmond gets to basic training under Sergeant Howell (Vince Vaughn) and Captain Jack Glover (Sam Worthington) and has to be trained in firearm handling, however, Desmond refuses to do so, citing his religious beliefs of non-violence and how he can’t touch a gun.  This enrages Desmond’s superiors and fellow recruits, as well as results in him facing a court martial, but through it all, Desmond continues to hold to his faith, even to the point of refusing to name his attackers when he’s beaten up for being a conscientious objector.  Ultimately, Desmond is allowed to go into battle as a medic and without carrying a gun, resulting in him and his squad being deployed to Okinawa where the rest of the movie takes place, and shows Desmond’s struggle to stay alive and heal his fellow injured soldiers amidst the hell of the US forces’ battle with the Japanese there.

In a sense, even with the faith angle of this story, the movie sounds like a pretty standard war film, what with its trajectory from the pre-war home life to basic training to the harsh realities of the battlefield and, as I suggested earlier, the beginning of the film kind of feels a bit hokey and clichéd in places, while also raising a lot of questions that were initially distracting.  Although the relationship between Desmond and Dorothy is natural and Garfield and Palmer have good chemistry with each other, his good old southern boy routine and her initial reactions to it seemed a bit forced in places and I initially felt that the early scenes of Desmond becoming violent (namely, by beating Hal in the head with a brick) and Tom’s violence towards him were uncomfortable and seemed like loose ends.  Yet, Hacksaw Ridge is a film that really evolves itself and its characters, to the point where what initially seemed like flaws surprisingly reveal themselves as the exact opposite.  Maybe it’s because I’ve seen enough movies to know formulaic elements and that, in the case of films like this, when I see things like child abuse, my mind usually darts directly to the question of “what’s the reason for this?,” but those things stuck out to me early on, at least until the pivotal scenes that give me that “aha” moment that not only explained why the film did what it did earlier on, but also, quite impressively, improved said earlier scenes and did so without stopping the movie’s pace.  Regarding Desmond and Dorothy’s relationship, there’s a scene before his court martial when she asks him why he’s stubbornly holding on to his faith as justification for his actions, even knowing they could very well send him in jail.  Desmond’s answer to her question was quite a surprise to me, explaining his devotion to God and Dorothy in a way that, without giving too much away, reveals his inner vulnerability, depth and individuality as a person and how both his faith and his wife-to-be make him who he is.  In that moment, every thought I had of what seemed like early film cliché with their relationship and Desmond’s character completely shifted in my mind, as it was something I didn’t expect, something that enhanced my personal understanding of and connection to Desmond and Dorothy and explained exactly why they were initially developed as they were.  Same goes for the later scenes that dive into why Tom is as violent, drunk and bitter as he is and especially the late-film explanation of why Desmond can’t touch a gun, both of which show great complexity and depth regarding the characters’ natures and faith that provides a fascinating and deeper understanding of both to the audience, including the latter to both people of faith and those who are not.

I’ve heard some critics snidely knock this picture on the grounds of hypocrisy and being a religious/combat proselytizing effort, as it’s both an unabashedly faith-centric movie with a level of extremely harrowing and graphic war violence that still really well-made and thrilling.  To me, I think that the religious side and the violent side of this movie go perfectly together and are downright necessary to emphasize each other, in both a physical and philosophical sense.  Remember, we’re told all throughout this film by Desmond that he’s against violence, per the 7th commandment, “Thou Shalt Not Kill,” so the movie’s truly putting his beliefs to the test by showing us that line of thinking contrasted with the vivid, scary and visceral real-world violence he and we witness on the battlefield.  Honestly, as far as this inspiring people to enlist for combat duty is concerned, given how real and horrifying some of the violence here is (as I said, I felt the tension and terror all throughout this, to the film’s extraordinary credit), Gibson is depicting a war zone that I highly doubt you’ll come out of the film ever wanting to be in.  Then again, that also emphasizes our bond to Desmond and his fellow soldiers, as well as their mortality and dedication, in unique and tangible fashion, while also being in keeping with Gibson’s past films that also push violence towards characters with strong personal belief systems to the point of intended and, I’d say, justified repulsion (with The Passion Of The Christ being the most comparable example to this movie, especially given its similar religious angle).  On top of all the violence, though, Desmond’s beliefs are also challenged from other soldiers who believe that murdering the enemy in the context of World War II with the pursuit of protecting the oppressed is morally and religiously justifiable, as well as from Tom, who tells his son that A, the world is unbelievably harsh, B, Desmond’s plan of being non-violent in a war setting is dangerous and unrealistic and C, that what war does to a man is sometimes enough to completely override whatever strong faith and religious beliefs they may have.  

As such, the movie is pushing back in multiple ways on Desmond to really emphasize both the internal and physical struggle of him being non-violent in a theater where violence rules the day, which makes it all the more gripping, moving and inspiring as we see Desmond’s growth and how, as much as he talks the talk with his trust in God, he also walks the walk.  There’s a scene in this movie that perfectly showcases that, as Desmond is left on the battlefield late one night and conducts a solo-stealth mission to find and recover the injured soldiers who weren’t found before his squad retreated. In another movie, seeing him try to avoid capture and murder from the Japanese soldiers while he keeps praying to himself that he can save "just one more" might not mean much, but here, after everything we’ve seen from Desmond and after seeing what he goes through, that really resonates here and reveals the unique form of selflessness, teamwork and sacrifice that he brought to his squad, along with the bravery of him and the other armed soldiers. This is important, because in real-life, we know people who always talk about their faith (of any religion) as the guiding light in their lives, but when the time comes to prove themselves through the actions, they can’t and/or won’t.  Desmond was different, as is also proven in the real-life historical interviews with him over the end credits that perfectly correlate with how the film depicted him and his struggles and really makes his story deeply engrossing, moving and inspiring.

That both the narrative and visual sides of this film are as affecting and engrossing as they are is a result of many different things, but it’s especially a strong testament to Gibson’s strength as a director.  Perhaps because he’s been out of the spotlight for so long and because of his well-publicized personal demons (even going back to the days when he was pretty prolific in the movies), but I almost forgot just how good a filmmaker he is, as he shows us once again with Hacksaw Ridge the passion, confidence and control that drives his movies.  I’ve always said that there’s a difference between a film that’s directed and a film that’s “directed,” by which I mean the latter distinction is a case where there’s a tangible excitement as you watch a film that gives you the sense of its director providing a beating heart to it and, like with many of the directors I’ve covered with the earlier films on this list, that’s exactly what Gibson gives us here.  This film is exciting because of how Gibson’s direction is laying its sights, sounds and characters out, how it’s pacing everything just right and how it’s drawing us completely into this world, while being supported by the film’s good script, effective music score, excellent sound design, strong cinematography and on-point period details (which I also have personal validation of from my grandmother who saw the film and, as someone who personally lived as Dorothy did during the war, told me this is exactly what it was like).  Of course, we also have the acting, which is excellent all around, including Andrew Garfield showing the aforementioned evolution and authenticity as Desmond and the strong supporting work by Theresa Palmer, Sam Worthington, Luke Bracy, Vince Vaughn and especially Hugo Weaving, who’s giving a deeply underrated and Supporting Actor nomination-worthy performance here as Tom.  As I said, this is a rough picture and if, like me, you have quibbles about it early on, it’ll require your patience, but as was the case with Desmond himself, your dedication and commitment to this great movie will get you far and reward you with this surprisingly excellent mix of faith and war.

 10. Deadpool

If the facts that I didn’t like either Captain America: Civil War or Doctor Strange and that I had both Batman V Superman and Suicide Squad on my 10 worst list wasn’t enough of an indication, I kind of had enough of movies based on comic books in 2016. At this juncture, they seem to be an easy way to draw in comic fans with the promise of doing justice to their beloved franchises, often without actually doing so and with a subpar film for both fans and casual moviegoers that’s more of an excuse to push their omnipresent marketing of the brand.  Given that, my hatred of, at the time, the last two Marvel Comics adaptations (Ant-Man and Fantastic Four) and also, the hype that always tends to come with movies like this prior to their release, I wasn’t really looking forward to Deadpool, even though I knew that it’s a politically incorrect, cynical, hacked off, and “bite the hand that feeds it” comic enterprise, which would sound like the comic book movie antidote that I’ve been looking for.  Well, it turned out that it actually was the breath of fresh air for the genre that I feel it really needed, which I was happy about, but what really surprised me about Deadpool is that, for a movie that’s selling itself primarily on the back of, as my girlfriend put it, its wall-to-wall “Deadpool shenanigans,” it’s not only really effective at providing that and being a wonderfully twisted comedy/satire, but it’s also surprisingly substantial and resonant regarding its characters, their relationships and what makes them interesting on that initially base level.

Ryan Reynolds stars as Wade Wilson, a former Special Forces operative turned small time mercenary who, as the movie opens (after some pretty hilarious fake credits), we see in his superhero in massive air-quotes persona, Deadpool.  He’s wearing a red and black spandex outfit and seeking a group of villains that, when he finds them, he ambushes and stabs to death. Not exactly a heroic action, but Deadpool himself says he’s no hero (as in, he literally tells the audience that after he kills them) and then, the film flashes back in time showing Wade’s days as a New York mercenary for hire doing odd jobs that the police won’t do and doing them in ways that the police definitely wouldn’t do. One night while at his beloved bar, Wade meets a prostitute named Vanessa (Morena Baccarin) and the two hit it off, not on the idea of sex (although that does indeed follow), but because of how strange their lives and interests are. As such, the two fall in love and after a few months of fun times together, Wade finds out that he has developed four forms of cancer and is pretty much guaranteed to die.  This news hits him and Vanessa pretty hard, with Wade’s understandably strong pessimism driving a wedge between them, at least until one night, when Wade meets a man calling himself The Recruiter (Jed Rees).  He tells Wade of his boss, Ajax (Ed Skrein), who runs a medical facility and The Recruiter claims that Ajax can cure Wade, while also giving him amazing supernatural powers.  Wade agrees and, after undergoing an extremely painful operation, he is cured and given the powers he was promised (including the power of regeneration of his broken and/or cut off body parts), but with a catch.  Wade’s body was horribly disfigured and Ajax holds him captive with the intention of selling Wade off on the black market. Wade escapes but, because of how he now looks, he feels like he can’t face Vanessa again and instead, hides himself under the outfit and alter-ego of Deadpool with the intention of finding Ajax and exacting revenge. Meanwhile, Deadpool’s violent antics get the attention of the only two X-Men left behind at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters (or, as Deadpool argues, the only two that distributor Fox could afford to put in the movie), Colossus (Stefan Kapicic) and Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand), who try to help Deadpool out, while also trying to convince him to join the X-Men, the latter likely being a futile attempt, given the endlessly acerbic, sarcastic and solitary figure that Deadpool presents himself as.

As if you couldn’t tell, the whole idea of the character of Deadpool/Wade is that he’s a pop-culturally savvy and self-aware soul who’s all about his Tarantino-esque movie, music and comic book satire, fourth wall breaking and lamp-shading of comic culture and film clichés by their names (which, given the cynical natures that I saw out of both Marvel and DC in 2016, I greatly appreciate).  Yet, as the above synopsis hints at, there’s actually some great character development to him and the other characters, most notably Vanessa. The relationship between Wade and Vanessa really surprised me, because this movie avoids many of the usual comic book and romance film clichés regarding that and is a surprisingly authentic and touching portrait of two off-beat people who meet and fall in love because they like and have a tangible bond with each other.  You wouldn’t think that, in a movie as risqué and clearly over-the-top as this (which we also see in the sex scenes, including a scene of pegging; look it up), we’d get a believable romance at all, let alone one that shames most of the major modern Hollywood studio romantic comedies, but we amazingly do, even to the point where, in the third act, the way that Wade and especially Vanessa act towards each other does have a strange understanding of human nature and of their relationship up to that point.  Yet, their bond is also really funny in places, particularly the many scenes where the tell each other their background stories and express their passions to each other, my favorite being when Wade explains his fandom of George Michael and the band Wham! to Vanessa (I loved his justification for Make It Big being their best album and how his favorite song off of it, Careless Whisper, is one he’d play on a boom box and serenade her with outside her window, ala Say Anything).  Yet, even after Wade becomes Deadpool, the depiction of his character still has the ring of truth to him, as we see that he’s not just a flat, repetitive and self-aggrandizing pop-culture referencing machine, but a real person who, in a sense, is lashing out because he’s wounded, but whose lashing out is still somehow dramatically believable, as well as really infectious and funny in his ribald way.

It’s kind of amazing that the characterizations also fit in so well with the film’s (and Deadpool’s) outrageous sense of comedy, which it does a great job of modulating between and expertly controlling.  This is certainly a profane, violent and explicit R-rated film (a message that some parents didn’t get when they took their kids to see this, even as the marketing/Deadpool himself clearly emphasized that), what with its jokey sadism, vulgar parallels and direct-to-the-camera addresses, but somehow, it never came off feeling pushy, annoying, self-satisfied or unpleasant to me. The film does an excellent job of tonal control and of making it so that just when it seems like it would go too far, it doesn’t, but amazingly, without giving a sense that the film (or Deadpool himself, because it makes sense for his character) is pulling its punches. Credit for that goes to the excellent script by Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, who wrote the similarly off-beat and knowing genre-twist, Zombieland, first time director Tim Miller, who shows an impressive sense of staging and managing the comedy, action and drama for a debut picture (despite some pacing dips and slight action scene choppiness here and there) and especially the lead performances.  Sure, the supporting cast and characters are quite well done, but it’s hard to ignore the two leads in this film, Ryan Reynolds and Morena Baccarin, who have such great chemistry together and also, great timing and presence on their own.  

Regarding who we see the most on their own, that, of course, is Reynolds as Wade/Deadpool and there’s something really special about him here.  I’ve seen Reynolds in movies going back well over a decade ago and always thought there was more to him that meets the eye but, with the exception of a great supporting turn in 2009’s Adventureland, projects of his like The Green Lantern (which this film makes fun of, quite fittingly) and even decent films that he was OK in, like The Proposal, didn’t have me over the moon about him as an actor. With Deadpool, however, he found (or, in his case, actively sought out, since he loves the Deadpool comic and this film adaptation was a dream project of his) the right role and he absolutely shines here with his swift, joyous, infectious and vanity-free (he actually makes fun of his own acting talent; pretty gutsy) portrayal of Deadpool/Wade. Seriously, Reynolds is such a perfect fit for the character and is giving the kind of performance that I can’t imagine anyone but him pulling off even a fraction as well.  His turn here is also a wonderful encapsulation of the late and great film critic Gene Siskel’s concept of “joy of performance,” which the idea of seeing an actor or actress giving a performance with such passion and joy, that it has a similarly tangible effect on the audience. Reynolds is having the time of his life in this role and he’s so full charisma and charm that we’re always with him in that same euphoric state, which adds a lot to the overall enjoyment of the film.

I can imagine some people reading this and thinking that Deadpool might not be their cup of tea, but remember, I went in with low expectations and without as deep a knowledge of the comic book as other people I know and came out quite surprised and satisfied.  Given that, along with being able to please fans of the enterprise and for it being such a refreshingly fun, ribald and adult twist on the comic book movie genre (and also, far and away the best film in the genre I saw this year), it’s also a movie that I think will have a larger appeal than expected on the surface and it deserves to play to a larger audience, as its deeper qualities will also be appreciated by those who many not seem interested in comic films or risqué comedies.  I felt that way when I first saw this back in February and, nearly a year later, I feel even more affectionate about it. And hey; any movie that uses Chicago's You're The Inspiration and the aforementioned Careless Whisper as cleverly and humorously as this does is going to be OK in my book.

 OK, so with the 10 best films of 2016 revealed, what were the rest of the best? Time for my Honorable Mentions list which, as always is listed alphabetically and in no particular order of quality:

The Beatles: Eight Days A Week: The Touring Years

Director Ron Howard’s recent narrative films haven’t been seeing much success or praise (case in point, 2015’s awful bomb, In The Heart Of The Sea and, though I missed it, 2016’s apparently awful bomb, Inferno), but he made a pretty great and intriguing documentary this year about one of, if not the most eclectic, inspirational and ubiquitous rock bands in history, The Beatles. Eight Days A Week: The Touring Years, as the title would suggest, mostly focuses on Liverpool’s Fab Four humble beginnings in the early 60s and the following years between 1963 and 1966 when they toured the world and made everyone take notice.  Now, given how massive The Beatles were and the plethora of historical accounts, documentaries and interviews we’ve gotten about them over the years, you may be wondering if there’s anything left that hasn’t been covered somewhere else before, but this film has a surprising amount of new and interesting information that it does a great job of collecting.  

One of the biggest stories of this one is that it’s packing a plethora of previously unseen footage of Ringo, John, Paul and George during their touring years, which in and of itself is going to make this a must-watch for any Beatles fan (that it sold out at my indie theater for every show it had on the weekend it opened proves that), but much like 2015’s excellent and also musician-based Best Documentary Oscar winner, Amy, the way Howard and the editors catalogue and consolidate this new information alongside the well-known stories of band’s meteoric rise to stardom and live shows is done almost like a narrative picture.  Yes, we do get the expected mix of archival footage and talking head interviews of many docs here, but it mostly spotlights the band with its new videos, which creates a pretty amazing aura that makes us feel as if we’ve been brought right back to the 1960s and are sitting with Ringo, Paul, John and George as they tell us their stories and, more importantly, provide revealing and intriguing new insights to them.  

For example, the “we’re bigger that Jesus Christ” comment by John and the resulting fallout have been talked about a lot, but the new footage adds unique dimensions to it and, in this case, as well as others (like the security concerns over their plans to play a set at the Gator Bowl with a non-segregated audience and media questions as to whether their explosion of success in 1963 was just a flash-in-the-pan situation), the boys' quick-witted responses to media questions and to-the-point attitude regarding some of the personal and societal challenges they faced really let us understand their personalities, their camaraderie and the way it all went into their music in potent, subtle and surprising fashions. In addition, they add a sense of elegy to the film by hearing fresh perspectives from since deceased figures, namely George and John, as well as the heartfelt and insightful recollections by the surviving Ringo, Paul and others, including newsman Larry Kane, who joined them on their tour. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Beatles film without their music and, when combined with the new historical material, the film’s look at that is probably the most vital and vivid explanation of why The Beatles had the impact that they did.  Listen, I could write multiple essays explaining in great detail exactly why The Beatles matter, but it’d just me telling you that something’s important with a mountain of information and support for that case, but without being able to replicate that “Aha!” moment where you personally say “yeah, I get it now.”  Thanks to this film, if anyone ever asks you “why were The Beatles important?,” all you need to do is point to its music scenes and say “that’s why,” as the sheer joy, bond and magnetism that The Beatles exuded in their live sets make the case perfectly and, when combined with our knowledge of them from the movie and the 50s pop-inspired sound of their music (as well as the hints to their later experimental vibes), show them as a group that takes the audience/listeners on a journey with high-quality tunes that provide an escape from some of the harsh world realities of the time, but also, in a roundabout way, a timeless, relatable and cathartic push toward confronting and coming to grips with them. But if you somehow don’t feel that via the movie, you likely will when you see one of the best post-credits bonuses in recent film history; an amazing and crisp restoration of the band’s legendary 1965 Shea Stadium show in its entirety, and it’s quite a sight, both from a musical and cinematic perspective (but good luck seeing it now, because due to legal reasons, the DVD/Blu-Ray of the film is missing it; boo).  Whether you love The Beatles or you’re either skeptical about them or have yet to be exposed to them, this is an excellent, entertaining and eye-opening slice of music and history, as well as the best documentary I saw in 2016.

 Denial

Now, this is an interesting one, because I only gave Denial a 3-star review when I saw it back in October, but even then, I was surprised by how and why I liked it, especially because it was quite a bit different than I went in expecting, and now that I’m looking back on it, I think it’s better than I initially gave it credit for. Then again, I think it also helps that I later saw the disappointing Loving, which was also a quieter and less operatic “based on a true story” legal drama that totally botched the law angle of its story, both substantively and tonally, which highlighted the strengths of Temple Grandin director Mick Jackson’s film more and make it stand out as probably one of the best, bravest and most fascinating cinematic depictions of the legal system and the concept of morality within it that I’ve seen in a while.

The movie is a biopic, of sorts, about Emory University Jewish studies professor Deborah Lipstadt, played by Rachel Weisz, who in 1994, had just written a book called Denying The Holocaust, where she decried anti-Semites who refused to accept that the mass extermination of the Jewish people by the Hitler and the Nazis actually occurred. One of her targets was David Irving, played here by Timothy Spall, who comes to one of her book signings demanding actual proof that the Holocaust happened and decrying her for even refusing to debate the validity of it, which results in him suing her for libel, but under the British legal system which, unlike the US law system, has the burden of proof fall on Lipstadt to prove she didn’t libel Irving, as opposed to requiring that Irving prove that she did libel and damage him.  The movie mostly shows the details of the late-90s court case, Irving v Penguin Books Ltd, focusing on the side of Lipstadt and her legal defense, led by head solicitor Anthony Julius, played by Adam Scott (probably best known as Moriarty on Sherlock) and head barrister Richard Rampton, played by Tom Wilkinson, and showing them building and shaping their case before executing it against Irving.

Based on the sound of that, you may think that Denial is one of those typical timely and overly emotional acting showcase biopics, and indeed, I went in expecting that myself. In fact, the actors in this film are actually the reason I went to see it, because I like Andrew Scott, Tom Wilkinson and Rachel Weisz, but what really sealed the deal for me buying a ticket was the presence of Timothy Spall, who I honestly think is one of the best currently living actors there is, so I wasn’t going to miss his latest movie. Surprisingly, the acting kind of takes a backseat to what’s actually more of a detail-driven law procedural and, to be honest, I’m still of two minds regarding that, at least as far as the acting is concerned.  Don’t get me wrong; the performances are good, for sure, but the only roles I’d say are irreplaceable are the ones by Scott and especially Wilkinson, because they’re the ones who we really get a good idea of the motivations and internal conflicts regarding.  Weisz is interesting as Lipstadt and plays the idea of her being appalled at the seeming lack of heart and compassion by her legal team well, but the film doesn’t give her enough to go into some of her own prejudices related to that and the British system and, as far as Spall playing Irving, yes, Irving was undeniably a Jew-hating racist and, though Spall isn’t exactly playing him in a cartoonish role, there’s a missed opportunity to go deeper into the human development of the hater.  Specifically, we get one scene where Irving is playing with and showing love to his granddaughter and we do see how Irving’s articulate and seemingly intelligent presentation convinced people that he was correct, but we don’t get enough of either to hit that home and neither does Spall, who I know for a fact based on his past work could dive deep into Irving if the film let him go all the way.

Even so, the depiction of the details of this case and the machinations of the rules of law more than compensate and they really make the film stand out. It’s absolutely fascinating the way it takes a cold look at the facts of this in a way that, as I said earlier, upsets Lipstadt greatly and has some of the other characters thinking that the legal system is heartless and uncaring, but ultimately reveals the method behind the system’s madness, if you will, starting with the initial preparation for Lipstadt’s argument.  Lipstadt thinks it’s as simple as saying “no, I didn’t libel him,” but the lawyers look at the exact words she used in her book and, to be honest, she kind of did and they argue that the way she made her point there will make her vulnerable to losing, especially if she takes the stand in her own defense.  As such, they decide on a new plan; shape the case not on the idea of libel, but on the idea of proving that Irving falsified historical records using physical Holocaust evidence and that Lipstadt’s words were factually true.  Yet, they’re limited on that front, too, because the Nazis destroyed most of the evidence of what they did, especially at Auschwitz, where Lipstadt and her team visit for something to use. Lipstadt then suggests that they have Holocaust survivors take the stand and give testimony, but the lawyers shoot that down immediately, thinking that it’ll play right into Irving’s hands, resulting in him tearing apart their verbal accounts, emotionally destroying them and creating enough doubt to win the case.

In a way, the perspective of the lawyer characters and, ultimately, the movie itself, goes at odds with what the audience is expecting and both know it’s a tough sell.  How do you take something as emotionally charged as the Holocaust and then, strip the feeling out and focus on facts and strategy that, in actuality, show the beating heart and strong moral power of the law?  Well, in both cases, they find a way, but as far as how the film does it, there’s so much attention to detail captured here by writer David Hare and everything is so well-paced by director Jackson that, even though we’re inundated with law/case details, not for a second is any of it overwhelming, boring, or anything less than mesmerizing, and we have enough character involvement to have a rooting interest in the outcome (even if you go in knowing the case and its final outcome). So, yeah, it’s a bit more of a low-key dramatic effort than you may expect, but it works in its favor and, especially if you’re interested in law or like films about it that actually understand how it works/can work, this is a special one that you’ll likely respond strongly to.

 Jason Bourne

As I was looking back at the 20 films I selected for this Best Of survey for 2016, I was curious to see if there was a film I really liked that most people/critics didn’t, as was the case with Child 44 in 2015.  Technically, there weren’t any for 2016, with the possible exception of the fifth entry in the Bourne film series, Jason Bourne, which, admittingly, does not start out well, but soon turns into a gripping and exciting action thriller with good performances and one of the best action scenes of any movie I saw this year.  

Unlike the 4th film in the series, The Bourne Legacy, this one sees the return of co-writer/director Paul Greengrass to the series, as well as Matt Damon in the title role as the once amnesiac government engineered spy/killing machine who, this time, has gone completely off the grid after exposing the CIA’s Operation Blackbriar program.  Jason’s former CIA rogue operator friend, Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles) is still in the business of hacking and revealing her previous employer’s dark Black Ops programs, including the Treadstone operation that turned Jason into the soldier he was, as well as their latest, Ironhand, which they’re conducting to spy on people using the new social media program, Deep Dream, and its creator, Aaron Kalloor (Riz Ahmed). Jason gets involved because not only is the CIA still keeping their eye on him and attempting to bring him in, as lead by director Robert Dewey (Tommy Lee Jones) and the agent that discovered Nicky hacking them, Heather Lee (Alicia Vikander), but also because Nicky’s information contains new details about Jason’s father who, as we learn, was also an agent like him.  Meanwhile, a former Blackbriar member (Vincent Cassel) is hunting Jason under the CIA’s orders, but has a personal desire to kill Jason for betraying the cause.  

The surveillance techno-jargon plot may be a bit too heavy for some and for me, it was too much during the first 30 minutes of this movie, where it’s repetitive, jumbled and predictable.  Also, the action during that time, particularly the riot in Greece, is way too chaotic with its overuse of the shaky cam that make it incoherent, but not in a way that makes narrative sense or makes them more exciting (think more The Bourne Supremacy, the series’ worst film, as opposed to The Bourne Ultimatum, the best).  Based on that, this shouldn’t be anywhere near a Best of list, but amazingly, the film does a 180 after the opening half-hour and really engrossed and entertained me, starting with its story that uncoils itself deliberately, but in a way that keeps our attention, builds suspense and does a great job of laying out the motivations of Jason and the other characters in a dramatically interesting and satisfying way (also, that’s helped by the good acting from Matt Damon, Julia Stiles, Tommy Lee Jones, Vincent Cassel, Riz Ahmed and Alicia Vikander, the latter of whom is better here than in The Danish Girl, for which she won an Oscar last year). The film makes its real-world parallels regarding government surveillance, including the very Apple-inspired company that hypocritically argues that Deep Dream will protect the privacy of its users play as authentic and complex without feeling heavy-handed or lecturing and they mesh well with the human drama of Jason and his psyche, which is surprisingly reserved and strong angle on that, especially in the third act.  At the same time, the movie effectively blends the action to its storytelling so that there’s a tangible forward momentum to everything that makes the build-up to the big action setpieces (such as Jason being tailed in Berlin or going through a crowd at a Las Vegas tech convention) work on their own, while also conveying the plot details and revelations effectively and without breaking pace.  

Speaking of those action setpieces, unlike the earlier ones, the camerawork settles into a reasonable, understandable and thrilling arbiter of the confusion and chaos that occurs which, in conjunction with our attachment to the story and Jason, makes them really exciting, investing and surprisingly believable in ways that, in another movie, may have felt too silly and overblown.  The best example is also the film’s (and arguably, the year’s) best sequence; an exquisite extended car chase through Las Vegas with Jason in a sports car and the Blackbrier member in an armored police truck that uses the different weight, dimensions and physics of the vehicles to make the truck trying to run Jason off by hurtling parked cars it crashes into towards him feel real, harrowing and exhilarating.  I wouldn’t argue this is a better film than The Bourne Identity or Ultimatum and it does take its time to kick into high gear, but when it does, it’s pretty excellent and it stands out among some of the other overblown and empty big-ticket action films that we got during the summer it released and throughout the rest of this year.

 Keanu

You know the stock film critic line about how “you’ll laugh until it hurts” for a comedy?  Well, in the case of Keanu, that’s not hyperbole, because I was feeling some pain (but in a good way) from just how hard and often I laughed at this hilarious drug crime satire from director Peter Atencio and starring Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele, all of whom collaborated on the cult sketch comedy TV series, Key And Peele, a show I’ve never seen but, on the back of this fantastic movie, I think I really need to get into.  

The film stars Key and Peele as cousins in LA, but while Key’s Clarence is happily married with children, Peele’s Rell just broke up with his girlfriend and is really depressed.   One day when Rell opens the door, he sees a small and cute stray cat sitting there, which he takes an instant liking to and begins to care for (while also using the cat, which he names Keanu, after his favorite actor, as a model for a hilarious movie scenes calendar he’s making). Clarence is also smitten with Keanu when he sees him but, after Clarence and Rell return home from a night out, Rell’s apartment is trashed and Keanu is gone. It turns out Keanu actually was a runaway from a ruthless drug dealer in the local criminal underworld, so Clarence and Rell attempt to blend in with the local gangster culture (a change from their nerdy and semi-ordinary lives, for sure) to try and save their newly beloved feline.  That’s the setup and indeed, you can get the sense that it could have been an extended TV show sketch, but the devil is in the details and the craft, which, on both fronts, this movie stands out with and delivers great laughs due to.  

Unlike The Boss, a horrible film that was also kind of a glorified TV sketch comedy movie, this one is really funny, actually cares about giving us the right amount of narrative and character development, investment and consistency to drive the humor, and most importantly, keep things moving and keeps surprising and amusing the audience.  For example, of course they need to act “gangsta,” but all they know about that culture is from movies and rap music, so they have to fake it by putting on thug personas and speech patterns to fit in, of which the dichotomy between that and their actual ordinary lives are hilarious and socially provoking.  Yet, the movie, like any great comedy, keeps adding new and uproarious extremes that they need to go to in order to keep up their farce, including delivering on their bragging about being able to do parkour-esque backflips off of walls or in film’s best sequence, which cross-cuts between Rell giving an improvised drug-dealing tutorial by visiting a house owned by a certain celebrity playing themselves and Clarence sitting in his mini-van on watch with his new gang members while using his favorite song, George Michael’s Father Figure, to help him fabricate a false gangster-friendly narrative about his “tough inner-city upbringing.”  

To be fair, the film does have its moments of “stop” regarding its pacing (particularly in the third act), which are more noticeable because of how strong its forward momentum mostly is and, because of that, I don’t know if the movie would have been able to sustain its running time if it were longer than 100 minutes.  But even when it did slow down, I still was eagerly awaiting where it would go next and did have a rooting interest in Clarence, Rell and little Keanu, credit of which has to go to the sharp script by Peele and Alex Rubens, the good acting (including Key and Peele’s dynamite chemistry and timing) and its expert balance of tones that effectively shift between the film’s equally effective over-the-top comedic elements and its quieter and subtler elements (love the movies Pell picks for his calendar) and, for the film’s more outrageous and politically-incorrect comedic moments, makes them land successfully without feeling too offensive, nasty or grotesque (which, in a lesser movie, they all easily could have).  Like Deadpool, this is a great, infectious and hilarious 2016 comedy that, even for people reading this that think they may not want to see a film like this, should be able to and deserves to break out into a wider audience. And hey; since both films are knowing crime movie/social satires that also share a love and appreciation for movies, pop culture and George Michael, they make excellent companion pieces to each other, too.

 Kubo And The Two Strings

I said when I praised Finding Dory that 2016 was a great year for animated films and indeed, I have 3 movies in that genre that were great enough to make my 11-20.  Of those three, my favorite (and the hardest one for me to exclude from the top 10) was Kubo And The Two Strings, the latest stop-motion animated effort from Laika, the Oregon-based studio that constructed and released the great Coraline in 2009 and, I’m sorry to say, not much else of that quality (Paranorman was great for its first 30 minutes, but settled for just being decent after that and The Boxtrolls was empty junk that used its pretty visuals to try and fail to hide that it wasn’t about anything narratively). Kubo, however, was the return to form for Laika that Finding Dory was to Pixar this year, as it's a gorgeously animated, artistic, atmospheric and entertaining effort that also has strong character development, storytelling and a tangible emotional pull to totally invest, intrigue, amuse and move us regarding its world, story, themes and characters.

The film is about Kubo (Art Parkinson), a young boy with the power to control origami by playing notes on his shamisen, which he uses to tell stories and make money in the local town square by day before returning home before the sun sets.  He does this to support himself and his mother, the latter of whom is mysteriously comatose during the sunlight (but at night, she returns to normal), while also avoiding the dangers that his mother told him about, particularly regarding his grandfather, The Moon King (Ralph Fiennes) and his aunts, The Sisters (both voiced by Rooney Mara), who killed Kubo’s father, Hanzo, and have been hunting for Kubo by night to kill him and take his eyes (between this and Coraline, Laika’s got a thing with eye removal it seems, but not in the icky way of stuff like Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children or The Neon Demon).  One day, when Kubo visits his father’s gravesite during the town’s celebration of the spirits, he doesn’t realize that the sun has went down and The Sisters find him and try to kill him and the town’s citizens.  His mother finds them and sends Kubo off to safety before sacrificing herself to save her son. Upon waking up, Kubo finds that his good luck Monkey statute has been brought to life by the magic his mother used to save him and Monkey (Charlize Theron) tells Kubo that she’ll protect him, but that he’ll need to find the three pieces of the legendary armor of Hanzo in order to defeat The Moon King and The Sisters, who are still looking for him.  Along the way, Kubo and Monkey meet an amnesiac samurai beetle, (Matthew McConaughey) who was a former disciple of Hanzo who has since been seeking to break his curse of being turned into a beetle and, after finding out that Kubo is his deceased master’s son, vows to join him on his journey and help in any way he can.  The rest of the film follows Kubo, Monkey and Beetle on their quest to find the armor, while avoiding Kubo’s murderous extended family and while Kubo, Monkey and Beetle start to operate a bit like an alternative family on the way, what with Monkey and Beetle arguing about what’s best for Kubo and Kubo shifting between tuning out their arguments and using his shamisen powers for fun and, later, useful function.

The film’s fantasy atmosphere and mythos are heavily rooted in Asian culture, which complements the movie and gives it gravity on both an aesthetic and narrative level.  Regarding the film’s look, it’s absolutely beautiful with its soft color choices, moody lighting, woodcut art style and smooth stop-motion animation that truly draw us into this world and give it a unique and delightful identity.  I especially love the scenes with Kubo using his shamisen, which are really clever and inventive, while also showing the film’s visual craft and giving it tangible weight and elegance, but I also like the way the film’s artistry is emphasized in the film’s quieter and less action-packed scenes to create a great sense of time and place, which also dovetails wonderfully with the movie’s story and characters.  In particular, the film has a strong focus on personal growth, family bonds and death and it explores all of these themes in an impressively mature, patient and resonant fashion.  From the start, I loved how the movie is very coy about its narrative details, before deliberately and effectively peeling back its layers in both clear and subtle ways that equally capture our attention and intrigue.  I first noticed this in the early scenes between Kubo and his mother, with him caring for her as she’s non-responsive during the day and with hardly any words being spoken.  That really drew me in and had me curious as to what was happening and how it connected to the rest of the film which, when we do understand, was really satisfying and touching to me.  The movie has many passages like that, which show its willingness to take its time to set a mood, give us quiet moments to reflect on its significant story and character developments and give us subtle details to hint at future events to come (but not in a way where we’re predicting where the film is going to go), all of which say and mean more than the usual overly expository and/or long-winded explanations that we sometimes get out of films like this.

For that, credit must be given to director Travis Knight who, for the most part, paces the film quite well, as well as screenwriters Marc Haimes and Chris Butler for developing this world and its characters so well and so infectiously matter of fact (which plays well for both the film’s strong emotions and its few, but genuine and effective stabs at humor).  In addition, the movie is further bolstered by its great stop-motion animation, sweeping cinematography, high-quality and well-modulated music score by Dario Marianelli and the pitch-perfect voice acting, particularly by Art Parkinson, Charlize Theron, Matthew McConaughey, Ralph Fiennes and, in a very nice supporting role, Brenda Vaccaro.  It’s too bad that this film wasn’t a bigger hit at the box office, but then again, I personally know a lot of people who went to the theater for it and still swear by it today, and it had a strong critical reception and resonance that seems just as strong today, perhaps showing that not every film has to make millions of dollars to leave its mark and that the heart and soul of this one will likely cause it to be held in high regard and fondly remembered as the years go by (and deservedly so).

 Kung Fu Panda 3

The animated triumphs of 2016 continue with, surprisingly, one of the year’s earliest films, animated or otherwise.  Kung Fu Panda 3 came out last January, a time of a year not usually known for delivering great (or even good) movies, but just like the original and great Kung Fu Panda from 2008, this one beats the odds and gives us a lovely, brisk and quite enjoyable entertainment that has more to it than its cute and cuddly surface may suggest, while also being a rare third entry in a series that doesn’t besmirch its earlier entries and shows that it has a lot of kung-fu life and energy left to offer both kids and adults.

As is the case with all the films in this franchise, we follow Po (Jack Black), the once comic-book fan-esque panda living in anthropomorphic animal-filled China with dreams of becoming a great martial arts fighter.  Well, in the last two films, he got his chance and has since become the legendary Dragon Warrior, fighting for truth, justice and the animal way alongside the Furious Five, consisting of Tigress (Angelina Jolie), Monkey (Jackie Chan), Mantis (Seth Rogen), Viper (Lucy Liu) and Crane (David Cross).  This time, Po is continuing his training and attempting to master the art of Chi, per the teachings of the late Master Oogway, but within the Spirit Realm where Oogway is now permanently residing, his old apprentice, Kai (J.K. Simmons) has stolen Oogway’s Chi and has formed a portal to Earth, where he plans to defeat all of the living kung-fu masters to obtain ultimate power.  With Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) soon to be retiring, it will be up to Po to lead the Furious Five in continuing their training and keeping China safe, but after some mishaps in his new role as teacher and his continued struggle with mastering his Chi, Po fears that he may not be able to transition into his new role. One day, a panda name Li Shan (Bryan Cranston) shows up at the noodle shop of Po’s adoptive father, Mr. Ping (James Hong) and reveals that he’s Po’s biological father, who came from a far-away mountain village inhabited almost completely by pandas.  After learning that Kai has escaped, Po and Shifu find an ancient scroll that explains how Oogway, in his earlier years, was healed by the pandas, who are masters of Chi, leading Po to travel to the mountains to find the pandas, try and discover his Chi and also, attempt to train his father and extended panda family in martial arts to help him and the Furious Five in their impeding battle with Kai.

What I like so much about all of these Kung Fu Panda movies is how they expertly blend their humorous and self-aware (but not annoying or pop-culture obsessed) comedic sensibilities with their exciting, yet also frequently (and surprisingly) meditative and dramatic view of Asian martial arts, spirituality and legends.  If you haven’t seen any of these movies, you may be shocked to hear that such disparate approaches work so well when brought together, but they do, because of how well each half complements the other and how expertly they handle their tonal shifts.  Kung Fu Panda 3 operates in the same way, as it naturally shifts between its moods and, as a result, creates a tangible attachment to the world and characters of the movie.  Regarding the latter, we find their jokes funny, their personalities interesting and infectious and, when the movie asks us to have an emotional investment in them, we really do, and it’s in that latter department where this film is arguably the strongest in the series.  To be fair, we have seen many animated family films about the search for one's self and changing family dynamics, especially as it relates to alternative families and adoptive parents, but like my other favorite Dreamworks animated franchise, How To Train Your Dragon, there’s such earnestness, warmth and believability to them that they transcend cliché and feel wonderfully fresh and involving.  Probably the best example of this is the back and forth between Li Shan and Ping regarding Po. In 9 out of 10 other movies, it would just be about the fathers’ jealousy and, perhaps, hatred of each other as it relates to the person that they view as “their” son, and this film suggests a little bit of that when Li Shan is first introduced, but then we get two later scenes that completely change our expectations and reveal just how complex, intelligent and, dare I say, societally useful the film is regarding its look at adoptive parenting is. One shows Ping alone by himself after Li Shan arrives, as Ping meditates on how he’s happy for Po finally able to meet his birth father, while also acknowledging to himself that this is the day he knew was coming ever since he took in Po as his adoptive son and how bittersweet it is, not so much out of anger towards Li Shan, but out of fear of how or if it may change Po and Ping’s bond.  The second is the expected scene where Li Shan and Ping bury the hatchet, if you will, but the way it plays out is in no way how you may expect it to (and I won’t give away why) and, in a year with many intelligent depictions of the differing perspectives of parents/parent figures to children such as Moonlight and Pete’s Dragon, this movie’s look at it still stands out strongly, even nearly a year after its release.

Along with the film’s strong dramatic side, its comedic streak is quite funny and charming, including new angles on Po's tendency for fanboyish excitement, unorthodox training methods and some wonderfully knowing twists on some expected jokes (my two favorites being the scene of Po and Li Shan discovering who each other are and a pretty hilarious aside with Po's top imitator in the village), as well as the expert timing of the entire cast, including series veterans Jack Black, Dustin Hoffman, Angelina Jolie, Jackie Chan and others, as well as the excellent new additions of newcomers like Bryan Cranston, J.K. Simmons and Kate Hudson (the latter of whom I’m very happy to see in another worthwhile role after a particularly painful post-Almost Famous decade and a half period of her slumming it in junk).  In addition, this is a one gorgeous looking and wonderfully atmospheric movie, with great animation, excellent fight choreography, sweeping cinematography, sumptuous usage of color and some impressively varied, yet seamlessly integrated changes in animation style from the traditional CG animation, including passages using hand-drawn anime style art and calligraphy-inspired touches. Even though this was a very early release in 2016, it’s still stuck with me nearly a year after the fact and, whether you’ve seen the other two Kung Fu Panda films or will have this be your introduction to the franchise, it’s an excellent one for both kids and adults that, like many of the best major releases, will give you everything what you’d expect/want from a film like this, as well as a lot more for your money.

 La La Land

I’m pretty sure you’ve heard a lot about La La Land, Damien Chazelle's acclaimed modern day musical that’s probably the Oscar front-runner in many’s’ eyes, which has also resulted in a backlash against it in the eyes of others, many who think there were better movies in 2016.  Well, I agree with the latter viewpoint in saying it wouldn’t be my pick for the year’s best film, but I also think it’s deserving of the critical praise it’s gotten and is worth pointing out on my 11-20 list.  I was actually surprised how much I enjoyed this, given that questioned if it would live up to the pre-release hype that was surrounding it and also because I didn’t like Chazelle’s last film, the overrated Whiplash, but this is an effervescent, joyous, authentic, passionate and expertly constructed effort with a great mix of fun and depth.

The film is set in current day Los Angeles and focuses on the bond of two people with dreams of show-biz stardom.  Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) is a jazz pianist who feels that his beloved music genre doesn’t have the respect and societal clout that it once did, believing that he can do his part to change that by opening up his own jazz club, while Mia (Emma Stone) is a barista at the coffee shop on the Warner Bros. studio lot who has dreams of breaking out as an actress, even as she goes through multiple auditions with apathetic casting directors.  The two meet after Sebastian is fired for freestyling in his job as a restaurant piano player and after Mia had another failed audition, resulting in the two forming a bond and budding romance over their hopes and dreams, as well as their ideals about their specific craft.  As their relationship continues, they both find new opportunities to help jump-start making their desires a reality, with Sebastian finding a jazz band touring gig with old friend Keith (John Legend) and Mia getting the idea to write and produce her own one-woman stage play, both of which seem to be putting them on the paths they want, but also revealing the economic challenges related to them, as well as the stress that they could put on their relationship.

This film kind of reminded me of The Artist, another recent ode to a golden era of Hollywood and studio filmmaking, in that both movies are effectively stylistic and nostalgic exercises of their genre (in The Artist’s case, it was the silent comedy), but they also have their own unique perspective and identity that keep them from feeling like merely empty imitations of their clear inspirations. In the case of La La Land, it’s clearly tipping its hat to the golden age of music, show business and the movies (and doing a great job of it), yet it’s impressively filtering and contrasting the aura of that classic style in an intimate, intriguing and down-to-earth fashion through the modern eyes of Sebastian and Mia.  I really like how this movie gives these characters the time to ruminate and discuss their passions, and there’s enough of a sense that both understand and love what they’re discussing with each other that their feelings of excitement and investment in their life interests and dreams tangibly connect to them both, as well as to the audience.  I found myself really invested in Mia and Sebastian’s growth, credit of which has to go to the strong performances by Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, who have expert rapport and chemistry together and make their story and relationship believable on every level, from the beautifully romantic scenes of their courtship to the harder times regarding the pursuit and non-pursuit of their dreams.  As far as their musical talents are concerned, I think both actors are quite good in the way they handle the singing, dancing and, in Gosling’s case, music-playing (well, kind of; he isn’t actually playing the piano himself here, ala Simon Helberg in Florence Foster Jenkins), but Stone is the standout to me, as her unbridled passion and infectious nature (especially in the scene where she sings the film’s best and catchiest song, The Fools Who Dream) totally won me over in a role that, without hesitation, is the best performance I’ve seen her give in any movie she’s been in so far and one well-deserving of an Oscar.

And then, we get to the musical side of this film, which is absolutely outstanding.  The instrumentation is great, there are multiple songs that I had stuck in my head and was whistling for days after seeing the movie, and the choreography and cinematography surrounding the music scenes are sublime, which exude a great sense of modern day LA (especially that thrilling opening on the traffic-jammed highway, seemingly done in one take and with many great tracking shots) and have masterful lighting, pacing, costuming and syncopation.   Also, just like in the dramatic scenes, the musical parts of the film showcase its sharp writing and confident direction to make the experience of watching it a zippy and engrossing joy, even on multiple viewings (in fact, I liked it even more the second time I saw it, and I was a big fan on my first viewing).  My only criticism has to do with some noticeable drops in the film’s pacing in the middle, which is strange, given how strong it is in both the quicker musical sections and the more deliberate dramatic parts, but still, and despite not being my best movie this year, it’s an excellent and joyous gem worthy of its accolades, both of the current and, quite likely, future varieties.

 Little Men

One of the things I love about doing these massive best of the year film reviews is that, along with highlighting the movies I loved all throughout the year, it also gives me a chance to shine a light on the smaller gems that may have flown under the radar, but are well worth your attention on home video. Case in point; Little Men, the latest from Love Is Strange director Ira Sachs, which got a very limited release last August, but I was lucky enough to have it open where I live. Now, I get to share this observant, complex, authentic and affecting human drama with you, which has excellent performances, strong writing, an impressively lived-in modern-day Brooklyn atmosphere and an authentic perspective regarding its characters, their personalities and their dilemmas that make it well worth checking out.

Theo Taplitz stars Jake Jardine, a 14-year old boy mourning the death of his grandfather, along with his parents, Brian (Greg Kinnear) and Cathy (Jennifer Ehle).  They’re moving from Manhattan to the Brooklyn apartment that the grandfather lived in before his death, which is attached to a small clothing shop that’s run by Leonor (Paulina Garcia), a lifelong friend of the grandfather who’s a single mother to Tony (Michael Barbieri).  However, with the grandfather’s death, Brian and Cathy have to work through the logistics of the shop’s lease and the price of the rent, which Leonor was allowed by the grandfather to underpay on for years. Things get heated, as Brian and Cathy want to up the rent to increase their revenue, while Leonor fears that it will run her out of business and is adamant in wanting to stay, particularly because she claims that the current agreement is what the grandfather always wanted.  Meanwhile, Theo and Tony hit it off based on their shared interests, including video games and their college plans related to the arts, with Theo having a passion for drawing and Tony having a love for acting, but they also notice the tensions rising between their parents and how it potentially could tear them apart and change their lives forever, a detail that also isn’t unnoticed by Brian, Cathy and Leonor.

Based on the setup of this movie, you may think that it’s running the risk of coming off as slanted and treacly and, considering similar films about complicated situations like this, I wouldn’t blame you.  Thankfully, it avoids all of the potential narrative pitfalls by way of the strong script and acting that emphasize the film’s tangible and believable understanding of the depth of human growth and human nature.  Regarding the story with the land dispute, the movie finds the gray areas of each side’s point of view, which makes the harsh realities related to them even more emotionally charged.  For example, Brian and Cathy are not the usual caricatures of entitled elitists who just want more money and are unaware of their son, but a reserved and complex couple who love Jake and have their own financial struggles that dovetail with the death of the grandfather (particularly in the case of Brian, as we see in a silently tragic and perfect scene where he takes out the garbage one night, wonderfully conveyed by Greg Kinnear).  On the other side, we understand where Leonor is coming from with the rapidly rising cost of living that she’s been able to avoid until now and how she’s unsure of how she’ll make ends meet without the store, as well as her passion for Tony that’s as much of a motivating force for her as Jake is to Brian and Cathy.  That’s not to say that these characters are perfect angels, but yet, they’re not devils, either, and that, as well as the natural and excellent performances by Kinnear, Ehle and Garcia, helps us see that these are real people affected by this situation and that they want to do right by their families and themselves, even knowing that, whatever semblance of gain they may get out of this negotiation, they’re also almost guaranteed to experience some form of pain to go along with it.

Same goes for the relationship between Jake and Tony as they get more entangled in the battle over the lease, but even amongst that, we feel a great sense of their bond that forms the heart of the movie.  Of everything I admire about the film, this is its greatest strength, as their relationship is completely believable and perfectly captures the way that friendships develop and grow, from the way they talk, to the way they grow closer over both their common interests and unique ones, to their own growth as teenage boys, the latter of which lampshades some of the clichés about sexual obsession and the social outcast status that tend to come with portraits of characters like these.  Again, that’s thanks to the script and direction, but also to Theo Taplitz as Jake and Michael Barbieri as Tony.  Simply put, they are both outstanding, as they convey the sense of naturalism, depth and sense of personal pride of kids their age and have dynamite chemistry with each other that always makes us feel their friendship is real.  That, and they’re really funny, especially Tony with his tough-guy Italian disposition that I can certainly relate to, which also makes me excited to see what these two promising actors will do next (Barbieri, in particular, is already set to be in Spider-Man Homecoming, and I can’t wait to see what he does there).

In addition, the film has a great street-level atmosphere and cinematography that perfectly captures the essence of life and the shifting sense of modern-day working class Brooklyn that further enhances the believability of the drama and the direction by Sachs is patient and assured.  I will admit that, even at under 90 minutes, it sometimes feels a bit longer than that, the bittersweet ending may not sit well with those who like closure (considering how it accurately reflects the realities of life in multiple different ways, I have no issue with it) and, as emotionally investing and natural the film is, that does not extend to the inappropriately swelling and pushy music score, but even with those quibbles, I still loved this film and, though it and its titular characters may be small, they both certainly have it where it counts.

 Star Trek Beyond

It’s funny; the trailers for both this year’s Star Wars picture, Rogue One, and the latest Star Trek film, Star Trek Beyond, made them look like the opposite of what they actually ended up being (and proved why you can’t always rely on trailers as an indicator of whether a movie will work or not).  Rogue One looked like a great and exciting elaboration on how the Death Star plans from A New Hope were obtained, but ended up being an empty, oppressive, thrill-free and unbelievable bore-fest that literally had me fighting to stay awake during it, while Star Trek Beyond, by comparison, looked like a cheesy, pushy, overblown and tonally schizophrenic extension of that series, but ended up being an airy, exciting and first-rate sci-fi entertainment with its tone actually fueling its success, instead of hindering it.

This is the third movie in the current Star Trek film series and it depicts the third year of the half-decade mission of the Starship Enterprise and its crew, led by Captain Kirk (Chris Pine).  The weight of the job is still heavy on Kirk, despite the support of his sterling crew and the blunt words of wisdom from Dr. Bones McCoy (Karl Urban), so Kirk plans to take a vice admiral position at Yorktown after his current mission is complete. Before that though, Kirk and the crew are tasked with conducting a rescue mission of the planet of Altamid, of whom Kalara (Lydia Wilson) just barely escaped and, when they begin their approach to the planet, they see why when a surprise swarm of enemy ships assaults and destroys the Enterprise (and yeah, that is a pretty emotional moment on its own).  The crew escapes before that, though, and their pods land on Altamid, which is ruled by Krall (Idris Elba), a warlord who shot the Enterprise down seeking the Abronath, a secret bioweapon that Kirk found on an earlier mission.  After the crash, most of the crew is taking hostage, but the pods of Kirk and Chekhov (the late Anton Yelchin) went undetected, as were those of Spock (Zachary Quinto) and Bones.  Scotty (Simon Pegg) also avoids capture, but he’s all alone until he finds and cuts a deal with Jaylah (Sofia Boutella), a rogue engineer who’s been trying to make her own way off of Altamid via an abandoned Starfleet ship from ages past. As such, the three groups try to find each other so they can find Krall and try to stop his plans, escape the planet and save the Enterprise crew and, ultimately, the galaxy from potential destruction.

The story makes this sound like pretty serious dramatic stuff, and the movie certainly doesn’t shy away from the heavy stakes here, but in a departure from the last two Star Trek films, Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness, the film’s tone is more of a hybrid of the previous films’ straight sci-fi drama sensibilities and a lighter aura reminiscent of the original 1960s TV show.  As I said, the trailers made that mix of moods appear uneasy, resulting in co-writer Simon Pegg, a massive Star Trek and science fiction lover, responding with the promise that he and his writing partner, Doug Jung, were putting their money where their mouths are with the final product, and he was right, because they absolutely nailed it here.  There’s such an infectious and unique jubilance to this film with its light touches and jokes, as well as some nice callbacks to the past two films (my favorite being the scene punctuated with a certain licensed song that introduced Kirk to us in the 2009 film), and some satisfying and subtle, but not intrusive or pathetic, tips of the hat to various Star Trek lore (note to Rogue One; this is how you do sci-fi fan service right).   Even better, the film expertly manages and delivers these elements so that they perfectly dovetail with its dramatic side, which is great, given how many films, especially sci-fi films, tend to fall into the trap of pushing too hard with that, resulting in annoyance and the diminishment of its darker and more thematic character and plot developments. As far as the drama of the movie is concerned, it’s strong, investing and very well-done on its own, thanks to the strong writing that sets the stakes up well and create tangible, touching and surprisingly realistic characterizations and bonds between the characters, but because of the film’s lighter side, the drama is granted with a great matter of fact feel to it that makes its heavier elements more investing to us, but without feeling that the film is overly oppressive and depressing about it in the way some sci-fi films are criticized for (I didn’t see Star Trek Into Darkness, but I do remember that being a common complaint about it).

On top of all that, director Justin Lin does a great job of pacing and maintaining the film, the technical elements, including a seamless blend of practical and special effects, superb costumes and convincing  makeup, are beyond reproach and draw us right into this world, the music by Michael Giacchino (who also scored Rogue One, ironically) is excellent, the action scenes are exciting and refreshingly coherent (even though they are edited a bit too quickly for my liking) and the acting is bursting with infectious charisma and chemistry, including Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Karl Urban (who's just priceless as McCoy), John Cho, the late Anton Yelchin (who’s so great as Chekov and will be deeply missed in the role), Zoe Saldana, Simon Pegg (who finds a perfect comedic and dramatic balance as Scotty), Idris Elba, Sofia Boutella and, in a small, but welcome role, Shohreh Aghdashloo.  Whether or not you’re a massive acolyte of Star Trek, this is a great and breezy sci-fi adventure that’s likely the best pure representation of the genre all year, as well as a great pick-me-up if, like me, you felt burned by Rogue One.

 Storks

I said with Jason Bourne that most of the films I’m covering on this write-up (except that one) were generally liked by critics, and technically, Storks was, too, but I’m really shocked that its positive reaction was as middling as it was. Well, I’m here to give this CG animated film from Warner Bros the praise it deserves, because this is an ingenious, surprisingly perceptive and wonderfully entertaining animated family film that’s also, much to my surprise, one of the funniest movies I saw all year.  Seriously, not since Keanu did I laugh as loud and often at any comedy, animated or otherwise, than this and hey; like Keanu, Keagan Michael Key and Jordan Peele are also involved in this one (albeit in non-creative and supporting roles).

You know the story of where babies come from, right?  Well, this film sure does; they come from Storks, who receive letters from aspiring parents, put them in a machine to create their dream babies and then, deliver them to the couples’ houses.  Or at least, that’s how Storks used to work; now, because of all the dangers involved in the whole “delivering babies” business, they’ve dropped that and are part of an Amazon.com-esque delivery store in the sky called Cornerstore.com that delivers packages to their human customers.   The company is run by Hunter (Kelsey Grammar) and he’s set to retire soon, which catches the attention of a delivery boy name Junior (Andy Samberg), who thinks he has a shot at becoming the new boss of the company.  However, in order to do this, he first needs to fire Tulip (Katie Crown), an orphaned human who’s something of a janitor and often causes havoc, despite her good nature and intentions.  Junior is too nervous to sack her, so he instead “promotes” her to watching over the long since shut-down baby-making department to get her out of the way. Meanwhile, a young boy named Nate Gardner (Anton Starkman) wants someone to play with and, because his parents Henry (Ty Burrell) and Sarah (Jennifer Aniston) are workaholic realtors, he writes a letter to the stork to ask for a sibling.  Tulip gets the letter and is moved enough to start up the old machine, but Junior finds out and, fearing for his promotion and the fallout from a baby being made after a long dormancy, he scrambles to deliver the baby with Tulip in tow.  Actually, he needs Tulip, because his wing got clipped and he can’t fly, but she has a flying contraption to help.  The rest of the movie shows their attempts to deliver the child, while running into others that want the baby for themselves, including a pack of wolves (voiced by the aforementioned Key and Peele) and also, Nate preparing for the arrival of the baby by creating an elaborate landing pad on the roof that he may need to guilt-trip his parents into helping him complete.

It’s worth mentioning that this film was written and co-directed by Nicholas Stoller, who made 2008’s masterful comedy, Forgetting Sarah Marshall and just like that movie, Storks slowly reveals itself to be not just a great and hilarious entertainment, but also something more.  The setup of this suggests a disposable family animated film banking on its post-modern twist of a premise (like some of the lesser Dreamworks movies like Monsters Vs. Aliens and Shark Tale), but it does a lot of interesting things with its conceit of “Storks can talk and don’t deliver babies anymore,” some of which are surprisingly rooted in a sense of authenticity regarding parenting, business and job details.  Along with being an example of the filmmakers showing their dedication to making this movie work, that attention to detail enhances the film’s heart and makes us believe the bond between Junior and Tulip, understand the growth that they have in regards to their feelings for the baby they’re delivering (which also ties into the reason that the storks stopped delivering them) and have a rooting interest in seeing the baby get delivered to its family.  On top of that, it really enhances the comedy because, like with the pathos, we get a sense that it’s coming from somewhere real and has an understanding of the glorious absurdities of its themes and subjects, both of which resulted in scenes that had me laughing loudly and often, my favorites being all the scenes with the wolves, the bond that Nate has with his parents when he finally gets through to them (which also skewer the usual clichés of kids and the parents who are too busy for them) and that classic scene when Tulip, all alone in the old storks letter writing department, make it feel more social by forming an group of imaginary co-workers out of herself, with extensive backgrounds and daily drama.

If it’s a New Year, then that means it’s time for my annual surveys of the year’s best and worst movies. As is usually the case, I’m starting with my worst of list first, almost like a child having to eat the healthy food on their plate before getting to the tastier food that they love afterward and man, I have a lot of bad movies to deal with from 2016.  Some of the films here are ones that many other critics also hated, but I also have a group of movies that were critically acclaimed that I just couldn’t stand, which makes for a more interesting list in my eyes, given my need to explain why I hate films that others love at the same time that I pile onto the more widely-loathed stinkers.  

As is my custom, I have my 10 worst films in order of how much I despised them, followed by my 10 dishonorable mentions in no particular order.  Also, as is my custom, I’m going to use this time to highlight some of the most visibly disliked films of the year that were not among the 72 films I saw in 2016, just to provide the answer of “I didn’t see it” to the question “why is [insert movie here] not on your list?” As such, if you’re expecting to see films like Gods Of Egypt, Warcraft, Assassin’s Creed, Collateral Beauty, Norm Of The North, Fifty Shades Of Black, Zoolander 2, London Has Fallen, Batman: The Killing Joke, Max Steel, Allegiant, Boo: A Madea Halloween, God’s Not Dead 2, Inferno and Nine Lives here, I’m sorry to disappoint you (and there are likely even more so-called bad films than those that I couldn’t get to).  Then again, I’m comfortable with the 20 movies I picked, as they were all deeply unpleasant in their own ways, and some in similar ways that kind of emphasize some pretty bad trends that hopefully, we won’t have to deal with in the year 2017 (or at least, not deal with as much).   Also, one more thing.  I usually put a screenshot of each movie in question above each of the entries on both of my lists, but Tumblr apparently is deleting this entire essay when I try to do that now. Maybe this list is too long and there’s a memory constraint or something, but because of that, I made the tough decision of not including them this year. So sorry if this looks bland without them, but hopefully, it won’t diminish the lists or the films I’m discussing. With all that said, let’s dive in: 

1. The Boss Melissa McCarthy is the female equivalent of Adam Sandler.  I’m sorry I have to say that, because I do think she’s a talented actress and comedienne, but even so, and as I’ve said countless times before, it’s been 13 years since the only movie with her in it that I recommended, The Life Of David Gale and, I’m getting sick of it.  Oh sure, she was good TV’s Mike And Molly and in near-miss films like The Heat and Bridesmaids and, to be fair, she was in a movie I liked this year, Central Intelligence, even though it was just an under 2-minute cameo (so I’d argue that it doesn’t really count), but outside of that, I’ve been just about ready to give up on her in the movie world and, after her hateful, crass, lazy and never-funny comedy The Boss, enough is enough, hence why I’m comparing her to the much reviled Sandler.  It’s a pretty apt comparison when you really think about it; like the worst films of Sandler's, McCarthy is creatively involved with this one (she co-wrote it with her husband, Ben Falcone, and he also directed it, which was also the case with 2014’s 3rd worst film, Tammy, a terrible film that is, amazingly, better than this), the movie is put together in a slapdash fashion that shows nothing but contempt for her audience, it uses a licensed soundtrack for no reason except to waste money that should have went to writing jokes (it took me months to listen to Foreigner's I Want To Know What Love Is again without being painfully reminded of the horrible scenes in this movie that used it as a punchline and on-the-nose plot reference), it paints her horrible lead character as a messiah, despite the fact the that she treats every character that isn’t exactly like her like garbage and then, in the grossly hypocritical third act, it has her character playing the victim card and crying/moralizing to the audience about how “family is important.” Oh yeah, and like Sander’s worst efforts, it’s also the worst movie of the year; can’t forget that detail.

McCarthy stars as Michelle Darnell, a self-made multi-billionaire character that came from McCarthy’s days with the Groundlings comedy troupe who, as the movie opens, we see as a young girl who was given up by her parents and, every few years, the families that adopted her toss her back on the steps of the Catholic orphanage.  I guess it’s supposed to be funny that no one wants Michelle, but the film has no explanation as to why this is and repeats this joke in bad sitcom fashion about 4 times, making it cruel and sad.  As an adult, Michelle has tossed family and her “tragic” past aside to become the 47th richest woman in the world and expresses that in her group of self-help books and to her fans in sold-out Chicago stadium appearances.  This catches the eye of her corporate rival, Renault, played by Peter Dinklage, while meanwhile, Michelle’s long-time assistant Claire, played by Kristen Bell, is a single mother who’s still waiting on that raise Michelle promised her, despite Michelle ignoring and berating her for it and despite Claire’s undying commitment to her.  That ends up falling by the wayside after Michelle is arrested for insider trading, resulting her going to jail for a little while and having all of her assets seized when she’s released.  At that time, her lack of family, friends and funds mean Michelle has nowhere to go, so she convinces Claire, who’s now working a new cubicle job, to let her stay with her and her daughter, Rachel (Ella Anderson).  After a meeting with former colleagues ends with Michelle telling them off and then, her falling/rolling down the stairs (because it just wouldn’t be a Melissa McCarthy movie without cheap fat-shaming somewhere in it, right?), she tastes some of Claire’s homemade brownies and gets an idea. Considering Rachel is part of her school’s Girl Scouts equivalent, the Dandelions, and that they make a lot of money for charity off of cookie sales, Michelle thinks that she can turn the making and selling of Claire’s brownies into a business for herself and then, use that to get back on her feet.  This sets off a war with the Dandelions and one of the mothers, Helen (Annie Mumolo), while also getting Renault’s attention, who schemes to keep Michelle from getting her riches back.  Meanwhile, Claire starts showing interest in Mike (Tyler Labine), the one person at her work who’s not a total jerk.

Now that’s not a terrible setup for a comedy on paper, as it does introduce many opportunities for satire regarding the business world, both big and small, life of a single mother and Girl Scout culture, particularly as it relates to mothers becoming more dedicated and cutthroat about it than their children.  This movie, though, has nothing insightful or funny to say about any of those things and its attempts to do so are cheap, perspective-free and hateful. Take the scenes with the Dandelions, especially when Michelle goes to their meetings.  What’s the angle?  Because Michelle only cares about herself and money, she’s appalled at the idea that they do good non-profit work for people and that the girls get life experience from it, so she goes on a bunch of those trademark Melissa McCarthy rants with overly elaborate and vulgar parallels to people and situations to ridicule and shame them, particularly after Helen says “we can’t trust Michelle with the brownie business idea because she’s a convicted felon.”  I think we’re supposed to hate the admittingly bitchy Helen, but she does raise a valid point there and, when combined with Michelle’s threats of violence and her cartoonish/hateful attacks (including cruel mocking of the leader and her recently deceased cat and some homophobic/sexist predictions about some of these innocent young girls who haven’t done anything wrong), sorry, I’m siding with Helen.  The former is something Michelle acts upon in what’s the most disgusting and shameful scene in any movie this year (and, given the cinematic garbage I saw in 2016, that’s saying a lot), where Michele and her group of scouts get into a violent street fight with Helen and her girls. It’s supposed to be a satire, I guess, of drug turf wars, but we’re literally watching a 46-year-old woman leading and helping her young workers beat the ever-living hell out of 10-year-old girls by punching them, kicking them, slamming them onto the ground and into cars, which we see happen in slow-motion while we hear the audio relishing in the sounds of their cracking bones and screams of pain.  I’m sorry, but there is NOTHING funny about that, especially with how it’s handled here, and anyone who thinks it is and thinks that the girls deserved to be assaulted for standing up against Michelle may want to get a mental evaluation.

Then again, that scene doesn’t matter anyway in the grand scheme of things because it’s never referenced again.  You’d think that a violent assault of young Girl Scouts would at least lead to a news report of the streets literally running with blood and fire from that, Claire asking about the bruises that her daughter and former boss have or, perhaps, Michelle going back to jail for that, but no, and that’s because that scene, and for that matter, most of this film’s scenes, are freestanding from the plot, drag on forever (thanks to the endless and repetitive back and forth riffing by the cast, especially McCarthy) and don’t add anything to it.  Even in a coarse and broad glorified sitcom like this, you need to have some consistency but, and again, this goes back to the Adam Sandler parallel, they’re only in here because McCarthy thought they were funny and was too lazy to care if they actually fit into the damn movie in the first place.  If they actually were humorous, that would have been one thing, but since they’re not, all we notice is how many holes this simple story has in it and how the characters’ behaviors and outlooks between scenes change for no reason other than because the movie demands it, the latter of which make it really hard to like, believe or care about anyone here, especially with a third act that’s asking us to do that with its liar-reveal trope and the aforementioned emotional pleas by McCarthy.  To say we’re not buying either when they come is a massive understatement or, to put another way, I hated McCarthy’s character so much in this film that, in the scene where she orders fugu and we find out it was incorrectly and perhaps fatally prepared, I was strongly rooting for the fugu.  

As far as the other problems with this movie, the supporting performances are flat (Tyler Labine is dull and lacks chemistry with Kristen Bell as the love interest and Bell does her uptight and sexually-repressed workaholic bit again), annoying (Annie Mumolo and Peter Dinklage, the latter of whom, between this and Pixels, can’t catch a break in live-action comedies) and/or wasted (Cecily Strong and Kathy Bates, the latter apparently willing to jump into any garbage comedy for work nowadays, between this, Tammy and, apparently, Bad Santa 2), the pacing is bad, even with the film being only 99 minutes, the script is awful, the direction is poor and, if it wasn’t already obvious that this film was slapped together, the atrocious editing will remind you with its abrupt scene transitions and jump cuts, which is most noticeable in the scene with Michelle and Rachel riding the El Train (I swear, the jump cuts in that scene to show a passage of time seem to happen at random, as if it were a bad made-for-TV movie and that’s an insult to direct-to-TV movies).  The only positive of this movie, which it can’t actually claim responsibility for, is that, because I had enough points on my AMC Stubs card, I actually got to see this atrocity for free.  Even then, I still feel like I was ripped off and, after suffering through this, it’s going to take one hell of a comeback vehicle for McCarthy to cinematically redeem herself in my eyes, especially since, between this and another awful 2016 comedy she was in (which you’ll be seeing later on this list), it’s clear she hasn’t learned her lesson.  I guess, like Sandler, she’s settling for dreck and just happy that she has another box-office semi-hit with The Boss, but soon enough, she’ll have to learn the hard way that there’s a difference between a movie making a lot of money and the reaction of the customers who gave said money to a “financially successful” film.  To Mrs. McCarthy, I ask this; you and your films are profitable, but what’s your reputation worth?  To me, I’d say about a buck fifty now, and I’m being nice.

 2. The Nice Guys

OK, I know I’m pretty much alone on despising this critically praised period crime/buddy comedy hybrid from co-writer/director Shane Black, whose previous credits include Lethal Weapon and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, but I had the absolute worst time watching The Nice Guys and I felt completely unclean after sitting through this meaningless, insufferably self-satisfied, never interesting, never funny and often gallingly vile and immoral piece of garbage.  Listen, I know that’s exactly the kind of puritanical response to a film like this that would make the filmmakers and its fans point and say that there’s no value to my opinion (which is kind of the tactic used against some of the vocal critics of the supposed immoralities of Black’s 1991 film, The Last Boy Scout, unseen by me), but I have no problem with violent, dark and even darkly humorous boundary pushing films similar to this when they’re done well, as was the case with many of Quentin Tarantino’s films like Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction or, thinking back to this year, similar films like Deadpool and especially Keanu. But I’m also not made of stone, so when a reprehensible movie like this comes along and tries to hide itself in its own self-importance and being “just a movie,” while having no care for the quality needed to justify the touchy subject material it’s trafficking in, I deal with it on both the grounds of taste and good filmmaking that it’s violating (and on the level of taste alone, this is amazingly an even more despicable and horrible film than The Boss was).

The film is in 1977 Los Angeles and opens with the death of a fictional porn star named Misty Mountains. Enter recently widowed private investigator Holland March (Ryan Gosling), who’s hired by Misty’s aunt to find her, despite Holland saying that Misty’s death is common knowledge and thinking that the aunt mistook her for Amelia (Margaret Qualley), a teenage girl who’s hired a private law enforcer named Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe) for protection. Jackson learns from Amelia that Holland is searching for her, so Jackson goes to Holland’s house to make him stop his search, namely, by deliberately breaking Holland’s arm (because temporary paralysis is so funny and deserving of cheaply making fun of people over, right Hollywood?).  After this, though, Amelia goes missing and Jackson is attacked by a group of thugs also looking for her, after which, he Holland again and realizes that they share the same goal and reason for wanting to find her.  So, the two team up to find Amelia, with Holland accompanied by his young daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice), who’s more grown up than she seems, given her earlier interactions with Jackson and her learning how to deal with her father’s rampant alcoholism.   The rest of the movie involves their search for Amelia, which reveals a complicated conspiracy and crime-ring related to the Department of Justice, the auto industry, the California air pollution/gas shortages of the time and the adult film business that Misty was involved in, done as a hybrid of a dark buddy-cop comedy, a noir crime thriller and a serious drama, the latter involving Holland’s past and his bond with Holly, specifically how she’s rapidly growing up and wanting to be involved in helping her father with the case, even given the seedy and dangerous nature of it all.

Since I’m obviously going to be tearing into this movie pretty extensively, let me get its two positives out of the way quickly.   First, I do think Russell Crowe is giving a good and dedicated performance here as Jackson, playing the straight man of this duo in a way that didn’t feel as pushy and annoying as his co-star comes off as (more on him and the other cast members later) and he gives me the sense that he could have feasibly worked comedically in a better movie with a better screenplay.   The other positive is its sense of time and place, as it has a pretty transporting and almost obsessive attention to detail regarding the feeling and atmosphere of 1977, from the costume designs, to the cars, to the visual filters.  That being said, it’s still not obsessive enough, given that it has a couple of pretty clear mistakes that, when combined with everything else this movie does wrong (which is literally everything else) were strong enough to break me out, particularly regarding the licensed music.  There’s a scene at a party with Earth Wind & Fire present, apparently, and they’re playing September while later, at the same party, we hear Kool & The Gang's Get Down On It.  I love both those songs, but remember, the movie’s set in 1977, a year before September existed and four years before Get Down On It came out and, considering how much Shane Black clearly loves this time period and is obviously trying to avoid the usual time period anachronisms everywhere else, an obvious oversight like that is kind of inexcusable.  Then again, it’s part of a movie that, unless you’re a Shane Black acolyte who’s willing to give him a pass for everything and willing to abandon your sense of morality for 2 hours, is already totally inexcusable.  

As you can probably tell from the plot summary, there’s some pretty seamy subject matter in this film and some clearly boundary-pushing elements of violence and sexuality that makes the execution of it and attitude towards it all the more vital to the film’s success, especially when you’re asking your audience to find any part of it funny or relatable.  If The Nice Guys was going to work at all, it would need to show a sense of intelligence, complexity and a lack of vanity about itself to justify the material it’s trafficking in, but not for one second does this movie show any interest in paying those dues, which results in everything it does coming off as stomach-churning, appalling and in no way entertaining.  This is a downright hateful movie, with a level of brutality and sleaziness that it likes to think is a tribute to the hardboiled and cynical aura of the time, but to me, it feels like it’s playing the cynical Anchorman game of “it’s a 70s-period piece, so it’s instantly acceptable, funny and inoculated against any possible modern social criticism.”  Oh yeah? Even in the context of the time this film is set, I still say it really crosses the line with its quite ugly and unmotivated streaks of homophobia, racism, misogyny and ableism that the movie has no attitude about and is in no way insightful, intriguing vis-à-vis the story or funny regarding.  Even more offensive to me is the exploitative way it uses Holly, in that it wants her to be this strong young female character who’s a willing participant to the depravity Jackson and her father are involved with in the case, while she’s also cynically used as a child-in-danger prop threatened with violence/death when the movie needs it and a fake semblance of morality to an otherwise immoral film.  

Regarding the former idea of Holly thrusting herself into the case, yeah, we get scenes where Holland tells her that she’s too young to handle it, gets mad when she stows away with him in the trunk of his car and has her asking basic questions that help out the search for Amelia, but they all feel like quick screenplay additions to justify the galling and unfunny scenes with her involved, the most disgusting being the one at the porn film premiere party, where Holly’s taken into the back room, shown the blue film, is told by its stars of specific sexual practices in graphic detail and is told she may have potential as a porn star.  Remember, Holly’s 11 or so years-old, a detail that made me feel even more unclean by the scene, which is played as funny and light, because child exploitation is funny and light in this film’s eyes.  As far as Holly being threatened by the bad guys, it’s nothing but a lazy third-act conflict that requires Holland to be more careful about wantonly killing the bad guys (and for that matter, a lot of innocent bystanders; I haven’t seen a buddy film like this as badly disdainful of innocent lives since Bad Boys 2) and regarding Holly being this pure and touching sense of good in the film’s warped world, it’s only shows just how tonally out of control the film is, as well as being clear, insincere and offensive proof that this movie really wants to have its cake and eat it, too.  Oh, we see Jackson brutally killing a bunch of people throughout most of the movie, but that’s OK, because when Holly sees him about to do it on two occasions and is able to succeed in convincing Jackson to spare their lives, that automatically makes Jackson good and absolved of everything else bad that he’s done while Holly hasn’t been watching him (not to mention that we never see him even contemplating mercy on the people he kills after Holly asks him the first time not to kill people).  Oh, Holland is an inattentive father to Holly and a drunk that she is forced to clean up for at her young age, but that’s OK, because she’s “growing up” and they’re both in pain from her mother’s death, despite Holland seemingly always being an emotional basket-case and despite that angle just briefly explored and, even then, it’s not convincing or believable for a second.  

If those last two situations didn’t give you an idea, I don’t like or care about any of the characters here, and, though I said I was fine with Russell Crowe’s performance, none of the acting here, including from him, changes that or adds extra depth or chemistry to them.  Ryan Gosling is clearly supposed to be the more neurotic and comedic of the guys as Holland, but I found his performance here to be quite awful, as he’s pathetically mannered and mugging throughout the entire thing without ever taking it down a notch to make us believe him as such a person (also, to take it back to the morality issue of this movie once more, Gosling in real-life went out and argued about how big an issue hatred of women is nowadays, a lecture that he has absolutely no right to be making considering that he starred in this vile and misogynistic movie with no moral objections).  As far as the rest of the cast is concerned, Angourie Rice is just OK as the young Holly, and the supporting cast, including people like Margaret Qualley, Beau Knapp, Keith David, Lois Smith and Kim Basinger, add little to their ancillary roles and don’t stand out as much as I think they’re intended to. Also, the film is all over the place regarding its labyrinthine story which, when we finally do get a grasp of it all in the third act, doesn’t give us that “aha!” moment and sense of satisfaction of everything coming together regarding the plot and its connection to the characters, the action scenes are not exciting or well-shot (maybe they shouldn’t have had most of them set in the dark of night or, at the very least, have a better cinematographer to capture those night scenes), the pacing is awful and makes the almost 2 hour length feel twice as long and not only is this movie not at all funny, but its jokes are repetitive to the extreme, as they belong to the same obvious and unfunny "oh, here's a joke at a tonally inappropriate time to cut the tension" category every time.  Again, I can see some being able to enjoy this, despite all I said about it, but I’m sorry, it made me completely miserable and violated.  But apparently, I may not be alone since, though this was quite liked by critics, it was a flop with audiences at the box office, which kind of validates my excoriation of it and signals that maybe American audiences actually do have a semblance of taste, even for films like this.

 3. Me Before You

I kind of hinted at this with The Nice Guys, but I’ll make it clearer now; 2016 was the year that Hollywood openly admitted their complete and utter hatred of people with disabilities. Except for Finding Dory, every other movie I saw this year that had characters that were either explicitly shown as having one kind of disability or another or were heavily suggested as having one had said characters ridiculed and shamed without mercy. Warner Bros. is the studio that was the worst offender of this trend this year and, in the contest of “what’s our most ableist movie?,” with their strong contenders like The Nice Guys and The Accountant, Me Before You barely won that dubious distinction.  This is based on a young adult novel by Jojo Moyes that was controversial when it came out because it was construed that this story about the relationship between the quadriplegic son of a rich British castle owning couple and his assistant caregiver was arguing that the former, because of his plan to commit suicide based on the depression of him losing his ability to walk and function, was better off dead.  Sadly, the film, which Moyes herself adapted the screenplay, doesn’t make that charge any less valid, as it shows that, despite the defense that both the film and book are poignant tragedies about the mindset of someone in a situation like that and the harsh reminder to those trying to talk him out of it that you can’t always change people, the movie is psychologically, emotionally and disgustingly simplistic, ignorant and dishonest in its attempt to explore his disability and his relationship with the caretaker, not to mention that the caretaker is one of the most loathsome female lead characters in any teenage melodrama like this.  In fact, I’ll go on the record now and say that this is more two-faced, pandering, shameless and rage-inducing than every Nicholas Sparks film adaptation I’ve seen, and I am not joking (in fact, my favorite one, Dear John, also explored a character with a disability with more honesty and respect).

The film stars Emilia Clark from Game Of Thrones in a role that makes me glad I still haven’t started watching that much talked about TV show. She plays Lou Clark, a young woman living in the economically stressed small-town of Pembrokeshire in Wales who was just fired from her job working at the local coffee shop because they’re going out of business.  Out of a job and with little education, Lou looks for another job to help keep the unemployed family she lives at home with alfloat, including a mother, father, sister and said sister’s out of wedlock child, so she goes to an interview for the caretaker of Will Traynor (Sam Claflin), a now bitter and cutting man who became a quadriplegic after getting hit by a motorcycle and, along with losing his ability to walk and participate in the extreme sports that he used to, also lost his fiancé, who has since found someone else and is now planning to marry them.  Will’s parents, Camilla (Janet McTeer) and Stephen (Charles Dance), are the richest people in town as the owners of the Pembroke Castle and, after they meet with Lou, despite her being easily flustered and ripping her stockings (because Lou is clumsy and awkward in bold, italics and underlining, like female love interests in all bad romance movies are), they give her the job in the hopes that she can assist and cheer up their son.  However, Lou is only Will’s caretaker by day because, at night, his nurse, Nathan (Stephen Peacocke) takes over and, because he has actual medical experience, he knows how to handle Will.  Lou, on the other hand, is in over her head, which isn’t helped by the prickly digs that Will makes towards her, yet after enough time, she starts to break through and the two begin to like each other.  However, that apparently doesn’t mean much, because Will is still planning to commit assisted suicide, so Lou tries, on the pleas of his parents, to convince him that his life is still worth living, while meanwhile, her feelings for Will grow into love, as does Will’s feelings for Lou, to an extent.

Now, based on that description, you might be thinking, “well, the movie is about the relationship between Lou and Will and they are explicitly dealing with the idea that Will wants to die and that Lou is trying to change his mind, so how can you say that the movie is arguing that Will is better off dead?”  Simple; because that sentence is just what the film is about and not how it’s about it. Yes, the movie does look at the dichotomy of Will’s depressed state of mind and Lou trying to reverse it, but it refuses to level with us about his perhaps changing state of mind after meeting her. All we see of Will are the usual treacly disability movie clichés with him being depressed, lashing out initially for reasons that are not clear until later and then having his heart warmed up by the woman who “just won’t give up on him, damn it,” but it all feels so empty and devoid of passion and authenticity.  That latter point also extends to why he wants to kill himself, because although the movie does show us his feelings of being useless and wanting to give up, it’s all surface with no interest in probing deeper into his psyche. We learn that the drivers of his desire to die are because his fiancé left him and because he can’t be independent anymore, but the way the movie presents both is shallow and perfunctory at best and, at worst, insulting, especially because the film seems to take sadistic joy in seeing him suffer under the false pretenses of elaborating on those things (while, again, underscoring the idea that the film is also arguing for his “sweet release”).  

For example, Will’s fiancé is remarrying, which leads to a really cruel scene where she comes back to visit Will when Lou is there and explicitly tells him “I’m going to marry this guy; I hope there’s no hard feelings.”  I got really angry watching this, which, I guess, is supposed to be the point, but I was more mad because of how obviously manufactured and tone-deaf the whole scene was and how the fiancé character only exists to be a self-awareness-lacking prop to further his pain, instead of actually looking at how such a difficult and painful situation like that would actually play out with the characters in the real world that this movie claims to exist in (case in point; despite that, Will and Lou accept her wedding invitation anyway and the emotions behind it are only given lip service and even then, not very much).  Same goes with him having to sit in a chair all day and have other people help him, which I know is the reality for people with disabilities like that, but I’ve seen many movies before that depict that life honestly and with the bitterness, depression and, sometimes, cutting and wry mordant humor sometimes present in it, such as the great Rory O’Shea Was Here from 2005.  By comparison, this feels totally phony and mean-spirited by how much it revels in that suffering, especially when throws cheap, unmotivated and clearly insult-intended My Left Foot jokes at Will, ultimately revealing this as one of those “we care about people with disabilities, but not really" films that’s more interested in getting a cheap emotional reaction out of us at the end and not at all about the people it claims compassion for.  

As such, I don’t care about what’s going to happen to Will, which is bad enough, but even worse, I absolutely hate Lou here.  Again, it’s because the movie basically makes her into an empty cypher to deliver the pathos with, but she’s worse, because of how much of an emotionally immature, selfish and irresponsible brat she is.  First off, she should not be taking care of Will because of her lack of experience, which we clearly see when she makes multiple mistakes that put his health in jeopardy, which the movie brushes off as letting Will “live a little” and being able to be an adult again (yeah, not when your immune system is compromised so that going outside in the snow makes it easier to contract pneumonia and potentially die from it, it’s not). Second, even though she’s taken the job to help her family’s financial struggles, that subplot never ends up amounting to anything for them and only benefits her by the relationship she gets with Will, not to mention that we see her in tons of overly colorful and expensive dresses and outfits that said money problems should not allow her to have.  Third, when she finds out that Will wants to die and her attempts to try to convince him otherwise seem to not be working, she lashes out against him by pretty much accusing him of being selfish, irresponsible and immature which, coming from Lou, is quite rich, considering those words describe her to a tee. And finally, Emilia Clark’s awful performance does not make me feel for her whatsoever and actually, with her overacting outbursts, cringe-inducing forced clumsiness and horribly fake/unnatural smile, I actively hated her, to the point where, when Will sarcastically calls her BS attitude, idiocy and social faux-pas about his disability out early in the movie, I was completely on his side, which I don’t think was intended.  

Actually, for that reason, I kind of liked Sam Claflin as Will and wished he had a better movie to play a character like this, but he also contributes to what is unintentionally, the best part of the movie for me. You see, Will loves foreign films, which Lou scoffs at, so he demands that she watch a foreign film with him (he picks 2010’s Of Gods And Men), resulting in her adoring it.  Later, Lou goes out to the movies with her boyfriend (sorry, I forgot to mention that she has one before Will, who’s an inattentive and selfish wannabe runner, but he’s not interesting or believable, either, so yeah) and she suggests a foreign film over the new Will Ferrell comedy, but to no avail. Now, here’s the kicker; the film she wants to see is 1999’s All About My Mother, directed by Pedro Almodovar. That doesn’t seem like a big deal, but if you know Almodovar, you also know that the movie he made after that one was 2002’s Talk To Her, which just so happens to be a film (and a really good and wonderfully avant-garde one) about two paralyzed women that are taken care of by their doting caregivers and, by that association game, it only further reminded me of how this film’s look at disability and the romantic bonds that come from it are totally fake and shameless.  I bet the makers of this movie are now looking back and wishing they didn’t make that connection, though, to be fair, they’re also probably thanking their lucky stars that, of all of Almodovar’s films they could have chosen to name drop, they didn’t pick that one to make a direct link.  

Adding insult to injury, the pacing is unbearably slow, the romance and drama are completely empty, Clark and Claflin have little chemistry together, the music choices are embarrassingly literal, the supporting performances and the side characters they play add little and not even the Wales setting adds any atmosphere or sense of time and place to compliment the already failed narrative elements of the film. That, and it offended and angered me so much with its hypocritical attitude and offensive trifling attitude about its subject material which, as you’ll also see more evidence of later on in this worst of list, it disgustingly and despicably seemed to be open season on in the movies in 2016.

 4. Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice

Yeah, I know this film is on pretty much EVERY 10 Worst of 2016 list out there, but Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice is just so deserving of it that I have to jump in with my own take on why it really is that atrocious.  As you likely know, 2016 was the year that DC Comics, in conjunction with Warner Bros., took their boldest steps to follow in the cinematic footsteps of Marvel Comics and their Marvel Studios film division, with the attempt at having big-budget blockbusters of famous DC Comics characters and books that would please the legions of comic fans, please casual moviegoers and create a connected cinematic universe for DC, much like Marvel has.  To say that DC’s attempt failed is the understatement of the year, that is, unless you think them having a reputation of putting out a group of bloated, endless, idiotic, hypocritical, hateful and cynically sequel-baiting pieces of garbage that despise half the human race constitutes success.  And to think, Batman V Superman was just the first such vile movie we got this year, along with, apparently, Batman: The Killing Joke and certainly… well, the next film on this list.

Anyway, the setup of this movie, to be fair, sounds interesting on paper and, of course, the idea of having the two biggest DC Comics stars in the same film would make you think/hope it’d be great.  The story takes place a year and a half after the last Superman movie, Man Of Steel, which, if you recall, ended with massive destruction coming upon Metropolis and seemingly untold numbers of innocent people getting injured or dying inadvertently at the hands of Superman during his battle with General Zod.  One of those victims is Wallace Keefe (Scoot McNairy), a worker at Wayne Enterprises whose legs were crushed during the fracas by falling metal girders (because we just have to get a 9/11 parallel into these Superman-related films somehow) and who is taken care of by Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck), the latter of whom sees Superman flying in the sky and blames him for the destruction.  From there, with the assistance of his butler, Alfred (Jeremy Irons), Bruce plans to exact revenge on Superman using his various detective skills, gadgets, his persona as Batman and some additional information provided by Diana Prince (forced meme actress Gal Gadot), AKA the subject of the next big DC movie coming out (of which this film should not make you confident of that one’s quality, even with Monster director Patty Jenkins making it).  Meanwhile, Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) has been feeling the weight of being the now societally controversial Superman, as well as the current strains in his relationship with fellow Daily Planet reporter, Lois Lane (Amy Adams), but also finds out about Wayne’s plan to put a stop to Superman, resulting in Clark writing articles intended to expose and smear Batman as a hypocritical vigilante because, yeah, working at a newspaper clearly means that you get to write about what you want after your boss tells you “you’re on sports today” (which was even more noticeable when this movie first came out, as it was less than a month after Spotlight, a really smart movie about the newspaper business, won the Oscar for Best Picture). As Batman/Bruce Wayne and Superman/Clark Kent are in the middle of their heated debate, if you will, about what makes a man a vigilante and/or a self-designated protector, Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg) is scheming to use General Zod’s dead body and the Kryptonian cove that holds it to destroy Superman, which he then sets into motion by kidnapping Clark’s mother, Martha (Diane Lane) and offering to release her if Superman kills Batman, the latter of whom recently stole Kryptonite to weaponize for use against Superman.  And thus, we get the epic battle of Batman versus Superman that should be a dream come true to viewers, but in reality, ends up being more of a nightmare.

As I said, there is an ambitious attempt at social commentary about the nature of superheroes in this comic book movie and it’s not just an endless action extravaganza. Then again, so was my best film of 2008, The Dark Knight (a far better film also based on a DC property), not to mention that you have to wonder if this film’s director, Zack Snyder, the misogynist hack who also directed Man Of Steel, and writers Chris Terrio and David S. Goyer (the later of whom also wrote Man Of Steel) only made the story of this one the way it is as an apology for what that 2013 film did with its third act. There was a lot of destruction and collateral damage going on at the end of Man Of Steel, which was both mind-numbing and, to a lot of people, out of keeping with Superman, given the fact that he didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that he was unintentionally killing innocent people as he fought Zod.  That led to justified charges that Synder was showing a complete disregard for innocent lives and, given that, as well as Synder’s insane defense of it by arguing Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens was more hateful because more innocents died with the planet destruction in that movie (even though that one was actually acknowledging those deaths and how terrible they were, unlike Man Of Steel), it seems as if the plot of Batman V Superman is his direct cinematic answer to that criticism.  Fair enough, but Synder totally destroys the potential of the premise (and the effectiveness of his personal argument) by still lovingly reveling in the death, destruction and suffering that the characters cause (unintentionally or not) and, as far as the moral quandaries at the center of it all, all we get is a bunch of brief, didactic and surface speeches about how right or wrong Batman and Superman think each specific dilemma is, but without any attempt to dive into the potentially thought-provoking guts of it (and considering Goyer also wrote The Dark Knight, which actually did just that, the lack of it here is totally inexcusable).

As far as the narrative explorations of Batman and Superman’s characters are concerned, the film does a pretty bad job of balancing between the two characters and, of what we do get of the two, it feels empty, emotionally inert and like rehashes of some of the more famous/infamous details related to the characters in the comics and other movies.  In Batman’s case, I really felt that his reasons for wanting to stop Superman so badly, aside from seeing one of his co-workers get paralyzed, were really murky, as was his backstory.  I get the idea that Batman/Bruce Wayne is a loner who tries to hide his pain, but the film mostly focuses on his attempts at revenge on Superman, with a few embarrassingly dumb dream sequences thrown in (come on, Batman shooting at Superman’s soldiers in a desert with a gun?!) and, despite the valiant effort of Ben Affleck in the role, he’s not able to make us feel for Wayne/Batman on his own and without the movie helping him.  Actually, the movie is hurting Affleck’s role, because of the issues with his character, as well as that computerized Batman voice of his that was enough to make me nostalgic for the Sean Connery-inspired voice of Bane from The Dark Knight Rises, all of which might explain why Affleck is now directing himself in his own Batman film (which will hopefully be better). The scenes with Superman don’t fare much better, particularly because Henry Cavill is empty and shows none of the lighter charm in the role that even the also dramatically minded Man Of Steel allowed him to flaunt, his struggles are unbelievable and uninteresting, he has no chemistry with Lois Lane (despite the presence of their sex scene in a bathtub, which is easily the most head-shaking and uncomfortable sex scene in a superhero movie since Watchmen which, ironically, Snyder also made) and the idea of society torn as to whether Superman is a hero or a menace doesn’t have the presence and weight that it should.  When the two are brought together, their battle and the reasons for it are basically the comic book equivalent of Idiot Plot syndrome (you know, the idea that it’s based on a simple misunderstanding that one simple discussion between the characters would solve) and the resolution to it is even worse, and clearly, I’m not alone in thinking that, given how the “maternal” angle of it has since deservedly become the biggest laughingstock within DC, comic and online culture.

Regarding the supporting characters, they’re generally too insignificant to mean much, even with heavy-hitting actors like Jeremy Irons, Diane Lane and Lawrence Fishburne in their just OK roles, and of the important ones, Lex Luthor and Lois Lane, they don’t have the intended impact on the film.  Luthor isn’t particularly interesting as a villain, given his stupid plot and lack of gravitas and it’s likely quite inaccurate to the character in the comic books.  Then again, even the great Kevin Spacey couldn’t make this character work in Superman Returns a decade ago and, despite that, I didn’t mind Jesse Eisenberg in the role, if only because at least it gives this overly oppressive and dark movie a brief shot of levity via Eisenberg’s admittingly out of place, but still comparatively appealing fast-talking psychotic madness.  Regarding Lois Lane, unlike Man Of Steel, she’s back to being the damsel in distress that the character is often stereotyped as being (even with Amy Adams playing her), but because this is a Zack Snyder film, the attitude about her, and for that matter, every other woman character, goes beyond just the usual insulting female tropes and into the far worse and more offensive realm of rank misogynistic hatred.

Every time I think Snyder is going to stop his cinematic War On Women, he just keeps doubling down with his next picture and, with the exception of his “pedophile’s dream movie,” Sucker Punch, this is his worst film on that front.  Lois and every female character in this movie are endlessly sexualized and endure or are threatened with violence, suffering and death in scenes that are repulsively taking joy in their pain (the scenes with Mrs. Kent crying as she’s threatened with being burned alive with a flamethrower and the opening that lovingly relishes in the brutal murder of Bruce’s mother as those pearls of hers and her body fall to the ground in slow-motion are particularly vile).  That’s offensive enough as it is, but I was even more enraged by the film’s cynical attempt to justify it all by pretending that it actually cares about its women and that it believes that they’re strong individuals.  In reality, it doesn’t care in the slightest, with the two clearest examples of this being Lois Lane and, despite what many are arguing, Diana Prince and her alter-ego.  Both characters are initially shown to be proactive in their goals, with Lois putting all the pieces of Luthor’s scheme together herself and then, trying to push back against Luthor and the senators tied to him, while Diana gets most of the information that Bruce ends up using by herself via her cunning and wiles. So, OK, they’re girls doing it for themselves, which is nice, but the third act reveals that they really can’t do it themselves and punishes them for their attempts.  Lois ultimately is punished for her proactivity by becoming the weak and useless damsel who needs to rely on Superman to be saved (even for things that she doesn’t need his superpowers for), while Diana’s so-called “wonderfully feministic contribution” is just barely assisting the two male leads who, without giving too much away, end up finishing the job she helped to start and taking all the credit.

On top of that, the movie is horribly directed by Synder, the pacing is unbelievably slow, making its over 2 ½ hour running time feel torturous (especially with all those false endings and pathetic attempts to set up sequels and the other characters’ movies, with one scene doing the latter by literally stopping the movie) and even the action scenes aren’t any good, thanks to their overly loud audio, choppy editing, ugly/dark look and incomprehensible nature.  Thankfully, even though this film became a big box office hit, it ended up not mattering because DC Comics fans are actually willing and able to be objective when their properties are turned into horrible movies (that’s something that the Marvel fans might want to start doing), so even they knew this was a massive disaster worthy of heavy derision which, along with critics and other burned moviegoers like me, they applied to this film full force to give it the lousy reputation that it deserves.  Too bad that DC didn’t seem to care that much about our dissatisfaction, as they so aptly proved with their so-called “comeback” movie that is my next worst of the year selection…

 5. Suicide Squad

Hey, lookee here; DC Comics is back to steal our money and insult our intelligence, taste and will to be entertained with yet another horrible 2016 comic book movie. Seriously, at this point, you have to wonder if DC is trying to destroy their fan-base, while also alienating outsiders and, of course, women (since rank and rampant misogyny seems to be the MO of the DC Comics film adaptations).  To be fair, I’m pretty sure that DC and Warner Bros. (wow, almost half of my worst of list now consists of junk from that studio) were trying to pivot from the disastrous reaction to Batman V. Superman with Suicide Squad, given that this one underwent a couple of reshoots, some minor rewrites and a rating change (from its originally promised R to PG-13, all the better for cynically making more money) before it released this past August. Some people I’ve talked to think this is a case of cynical studio meddling, which it clearly is, but they also think director David Ayer got screwed over here, which is wrong, given his recent insistence that, even after all the edits, the film’s final cut is all his, not to mention that this hypocritical, misogynistic, incomprehensible, clichéd, dull, badly made and thoroughly unpleasant junk also shares the same negative attributes of Ayer’s past failures that didn’t have studio involvement.  Either way, there’s a lot of blame to place for this one and it’s further evidence of how creatively and morally adrift DC is in the movies nowadays and how they need to clean up their cinematic act and fast.

The film takes place after the ending of Batman V Superman, which went early 1990s on Superman, if you know what I mean, resulting in a secret government agency lead by Amanda Walker (Viola Davis, who’s likely glad that she has Fences out right now to make people forget she was slumming it in this), looking for a new method for keeping the US and the world safe from villains.  Apparently, getting Batman involved isn’t something she’s open to (and yes, Ben Affleck does return here in that role), so she decides to recruit a group of locked-up supervillains, many of whom Batman has fought, and bring them together to fight against evil forces.  You may be wondering why Walker thinks it’s a good idea to trust a group of villains who could feasibly band together, escape and cause even more havoc, but she has a backup plan; she puts them all under the watchful eye of hardened commander Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman) and she has implanted a nano-bomb in each of them, which Flag is ordered to detonate should any of them go rogue. Speaking of those villains, they consist of Deadshot (Will Smith), a hitman with a proficiency with guns and a young daughter he wants to support, despite his murderous tendencies, El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), a now seemingly pacifistic former LA gangbanger with pyrokinetic powers and a troubled past, Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), a thieving scumbag who, surprise surprise, attacks with a boomerang, Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) a genetically mutated man with bodily features and attributes much like a crocodile, Slipknot (Adam Beach), a highly specialized assassin with rappelling skills and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), the psychotic, highly sexual and emotionally battered former psychiatrist to The Joker, the latter of whom is also in this film in a much hyped, but completely inconsequential, microscopic and nothing role (he’s played by Oscar winner Jared Leto).  The plot shows the growing bond, if you want to call it that, between the supervillains, as well as how one of the intended recruits is possessed by the Enchantress (Cara Delevingne), who is seeking revenge on the world for imprisoning her and her brother’s souls in ancient artifacts years ago, resulting in the supervillains having to band together to stop her and save both Midway City and the world.  During it all, the film also wants to have an acerbic and dark comedic edge mixed in with the heavy action and drama, as well as a penchant for using famous licensed tunes, ala Guardians Of The Galaxy.

I have to admit that I didn’t like Guardians Of The Galaxy when it came out in 2014 (though I’d probably have been kinder to it if I knew even worse all-star cavalcade comic book movies like this would be following it), but at least that movie had a sense of chemistry between the team (despite some serious credibility issues I had with their overall relationship).  Here, we get no concept of the bond that these “heroes” share, since they all seem out to serve their own interests and also, because they don’t have very good chemistry to make their contrasting personalities and goals effectively play off of each other.  We see that definitively in the scene when they basically stop the plot of the movie and go have drinks at a bar, but that’s the only attempt at comradery that we get, and even then, it’s nothing but the parading of a bunch of hoary old clichés and them emphasizing how humorously off-beat they think they are with the old “I’m not really as bad as society says I am” trope. At best, this, as well as all the other attempts to sell us on the idea of this team coming together on an emotional and/or comedic level, is pedestrian and doesn’t give us a rooting interest in the characters, but at worst, I’m not buying it for second and they induce feelings of anger and disdain over what they and film want us to instantly accept.  The key examples of this is are the stabs at familial pathos with Deadshot’s daughter and El Diablo’s backstory about his family; the former thread is cloying and cheap, the latter is about something so horrible in his past that there’s no way that most people in the audience will believe he’s moral and let that go so quickly and, in both cases, they’re just tired and offensive plot devices to try and cynically soften these characters, as opposed to honestly developing them so we believe that, even in their seemingly seedy and/or nigh-irredeemable natures, that they have the capability of being good or, at the very least, are interesting enough to follow to the end (ala a Terry Zwigoff film like Bad Santa or Ghost World, both of which had similar outcast leads that were well-developed and darkly funny).

Before we get the team together, though, we get their solo introductions, which comprise a majority of the film’s first 40 minutes, give or take, but those don’t do a much better job of making us care about the characters, as they’re flatly expository, aggravatingly self-conscious, tonally schizophrenic, and, for some characters, incomprehensible.  For instance, I had no idea what to make of or feel about Killer Croc, who’s an interesting villain based on my knowledge of him from the Batman enterprise, but the film seems to rush through his story (as well as some others, like Slipknot) because it wants to focus on the characters played by the biggest stars here, namely, Smith’s Deadshot and Robbie’s Harley Quinn, most of which is all about flaunting their strange behavior, the muted neon color look of the film and, of course, those damn licensed songs that are so obvious, lazy and on-the-nose that their presence made me angry (Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Fortunate Son, The Rolling Stone’s Sympathy For The Devil, Lesley Gore’s You Don’t Own Me and The Animals’ House Of The Rising Sun?! REALLY?!).  As far as the film’s look at Quinn, this is the first depiction of the character in a movie and my God, does it want to have it both ways tonally speaking, by trying to look at her twisted mental state as appealingly humorous and erotic, while also being dark, disturbing and serious.  If the movie played fair with that, like the Batman: The Animated Series that introduced Quinn did, then no problem, but there’s something uniquely ugly about the portrayal here, as the movie sexualizes and glamorizes her mental state, as well as her abusive relationship with The Joker, while tossing in some token heavy moments to try and hide that this movie is grotesquely trivializing her mental illness and psychological suffering by making it look “fun,” “sexy,” “funny” and “empowering,” which it isn’t, especially how this film treats it.

Then again, that’s in keeping with the hacky attitude of the whole movie which, despite the studio interaction, is all on co-writer/director David Ayer, because he falls down here in the same ways he did on the so-called “pure” pictures he made.  His End Of Watch refused to pick a style and go with it, while his Fury (a film that, amazingly, is even worse and more despicable than this) oozed with leering sexuality and suffocating for its own sake claustrophobia, and this one does all three, as it uneasily straddles the line between dark comedy and heavy drama/action, but without doing any of it well, it hates women, as I emphasized with Quinn as the most obvious example, and the film gives off a really oppressive aura that doesn’t fit the movie and makes it dull and extremely depressing to watch.  In addition, the action scenes are badly lit, choppy, quickly cut, not exciting and incomprehensible (could it be because of the cut to a PG-13?), the CG is awful, the pacing is slow, the writing is poor, the story is stupid, Ayer’s direction is distractingly chaotic, and the performances are empty and wasted, either because they’re bland, as is the case with Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Joel Kinnaman and the usually magnetic Will Smith, or they’re trying too hard, as is the case with Cara Delevingne’s painfully over-the-top vampy act as the Enchantress, Margot Robbie’s pushiness as Quinn and, of course, the much ballyhooed role of The Joker by Jared Leto who, though not trying to copy Heath Ledger’s legendary turn as the character in The Dark Knight, is one-note, unpleasant and a real turn-off (but at least he’s only in the film for under 10 minutes, so at least the pain of his presence here won’t hurt you for too long).  

Look, I know DC wants to try and be a cinematic fanboy/fangirl powerhouse like Marvel is, but soul-draining and empty garbage like Suicide Squad is not doing them or the fans any favors, nor is it making outsiders like me willing to jump on board. Also, this was supposed to be the one that would get them back on track after Batman V Superman, but it just ended up driving them into the ditch even further, suggesting that maybe they should either go back to the drawing board again, or perhaps quit while they’re ahead. Some are arguing that Wonder Woman next year will save the DC movies and maybe it will, but on the back of the two we got this year (or three, if you count The Killing Joke), if your expectations for that one now are anything but subterranean, well, I’m sorry, that’s your problem.

 6. The Neon Demon

Man, what happened to Nicholas Winding Refn?  He seemed like a pretty interesting and gutsy avant-garde filmmaker with the mixed-bag, but interesting enough (and very well-acted by Tom Hardy) 2009 film, Bronson and especially his 2011 masterpiece, Drive (which I had on my 10 best list that year), but something happened after that latter 5-year-old film of his and he’s clearly let success and the critical arguments of his directorial grandeur go to his head with his last couple of films.  In 2013, he made Only God Forgives, a particularly empty and vile piece of trash that was my clear pick for the worst movie of that year, and here he is once again with The Neon Demon, a film that’s, at the very least, a slight improvement over that one, as you can at least get some understanding of what he’s trying to do with this one.  Then again, that’s little consolation in my eyes, as it’s still an unbelievably thin, pushy, pretentious and insufferable waste of time and talent that, like any bad art-house film, uses its sanctimonious auteurist form to pretend that Refn’s the best filmmaker ever and that he’s crafted some great, profound, disturbing and shocking look at its themes and subjects, when it’s just proof that he may not be as good a filmmaker as he thinks he is and has the most embarrassingly literal interpretation of old-hat concepts regarding show business, modeling and the female sexuality often tied into both.

The film is centered around Jesse (Elle Fanning), a 16-year-old blond girl from a small town who’s come to LA looking to become a model.  She’s just had her first photoshoot with Dean (Karl Glusman), an aspiring photographer she met online who offered to take shots of her to shop around town and, after the shoot, she meets Ruby (Jena Malone), a makeup artist who, in between her part-time work as an assistant at the morgue, has connections in the fashion industry and thinks Jesse has potential.  Ruby introduces Jesse to two models that Ruby often does makeup work for; Sarah (Abbey Lee) and Gigi (Bella Heathcote).  Both Sarah and Gigi emphasize the idea of sexuality and/or plastic surgery as the most effective way to get ahead in the LA modeling world, while seeming a bit dismissive of the more reserved aura and appearance of Jesse.  This, as well as encouragement from her wavering between friend and boyfriend Dean, inspires Jesse to go for an interview at Roberta Hoffman’s (Christina Hendricks) renowned modeling agency, who are looking for new girls to sign. Despite Jesse being underage, Roberta allows her to fudge her age and the parental consent form, allowing Jesse to be signed, with the thought by Roberta that her looks and style will make her a star.  As you’d likely expect, the shoots Jesse is tasked with doing are highly sexualized, especially with Hoffman’s top photographer Jack (Desmond Harrington) being so taken by Jesse that he demands closed set nude shoots for her to do.  This helps Jesse become a quickly rising talent in the industry, to the point where many of the other big fashion icons are instantly smitten with Jesse and want a piece of her, but this creates tensions with Sarah and Gigi, who aren’t used to being rejected and losing contract work, as well as with Dean, who knows Jesse’s underage, but has still developed feelings for her and fears she’s drifting away from, and with Ruby, who also is starting to view herself as a protector of Jesse’s and, perhaps, something more. Meanwhile, we get a group of bizarre and twisted developments regarding Hank (Keanu Reeves), the violent and pedophilic owner of the Pasadena motel that Jesse is staying at, as well as attempts by Sarah and Gigi at revenge against Jesse.

Director Refn (who uses his initials NWR throughout the opening and closing credits, I guess to tell how deep and important a director he thinks he is, though he really hasn’t been showing it recently) has stated that this movie was intended to be a tribute, of sorts, to Russ Meyer’s 1970 film, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls.  To say it, in my eyes, misses the point of Meyer’s cult classic goes without saying, but I can at least see what Refn was trying to do here, which is to paint a surrealistic, supernatural and grotesque metaphor about our concept of beauty, fashion, celebrity and the industries associated with all three ideas.  Specifically, through Jesse, it’s challenging the idea of female beauty/sexuality, the life of models (particularly those who, like, her, are of the barely legal and Lolita small-town runaway varieties), the vapidity and looks-obsessed industry and, of course, her modeling peers in Gigi and Sarah who will do anything to be the best and stay relevant, while also having its elements of jazzing those themes up with Refn’s signature mind-tripping scenes tied to Jesse and the other characters.  Too bad for Refn that he’s two years too late with this film, since in 2014, Jonathan Glazer made Under The Skin (my 8th best film that year), a similar mind-trip that explored many of the same concepts and perceptions of female beauty and eroticism as this, but was infinitely better and more engrossing.  In addition, Under The Skin also had interesting, consistent and well-developed characters, better thought-out and more intriguing messages and avant-garde detours that worked as inherently watchable and interesting cinema that tied to the narrative without feeling aggressively pushy, unpleasant or boring.

The Neon Demon has none of those things, starting with its concepts about Jesse and the fashion world it’s depicting.  In a sense, my typing the next passage you’ll read is kind of a spoiler of the movie, (which I almost believe was done on purpose to shield the film from this criticism), but it needs to be said; the movie’s look at it topics is ultimately nothing more than forming a literal interpretation of the concept of the high-stakes world of celebrity, fashion and beauty eating you alive.  I won’t go too far into exactly how the film does that (because it does it in many ways that I won’t reveal), but it’s a massively lazy, arch, pathetic and ugly cop-out that undoes Refn’s argument of giving us this brave, unique and thought-provoking twist on these familiar themes and archetypes. Some may think “oh, this is just a great twist concept,” but it can’t even do that right, because the movie telegraphs that concept so obviously by telling us the same idea, so that I could easily predict it going in that direction and, when it got there, it was just ugly and disgusting shock value that lacks any hint of intelligent or interesting commentary or filmmaking.  Also, by that point, I had long stopped caring about the movie or any of the characters in it, since we don’t get to know enough about the characters to be invested or make the film’s points resonate, especially regarding Jesse.  She’s supposed to be the protagonist here, obviously, so why is it that I feel that I didn’t learn anything about her aside from being a young, naïve runaway looking for stardom in LA’s fashion industry?  Maybe it’s supposed to be a commentary of how the industry often seems to idolize good-looking, but empty-headed cyphers as the next big thing, but I doubt it, because that’s what Sarah and Gigi represent.  By comparison, Jesse is not the most attractive looking model we see, but they respond to the fact that she’s natural in her appearance and persona, which is subverting the cliché of the fashion world never seeing beauty as anything but skin-deep.  So why can’t we get a good sense of who Jesse is, too?  That would have also helped Jesse’s change in motivations after she begins her industry rise not feel like they’re completely random, particularly given how she quickly becomes cold and vapid (especially in regards to Dean, who then just disappears from the movie completely).  Same goes for the other characters, especially Ruby, Sarah and Gigi, as we don’t get enough of a concept of how they reached their changed perspectives, as if the film is missing scenes.

Then again, I guess Refn would justify that by his seeming idea that we won’t care about how skimpy the film’s narrative is, because we apparently love his bizarre and interludes, complete with his trademark gaudy colors, wide and antiseptic rooms/hallways and punishing synth-heavy music.  In his films like Bronson and Drive, I have no problem with it, but here, they stop the plot dead in its tracks, are suffocating, dull, aggravating and embarrassingly on-the-nose in how they tangentially connect to the narrative and made me feel like he’s self-consciously trying to make the movie seem more deep and profound than really it is.  In addition, the dialogue is arch and obvious (and it can’t be passed off as "oh, this is a reflection of how empty-headed models/people in the industry are" when every character not connected to it is the same way), the film’s way too long and draggy at 2 hours and the performances are all merely passable, even by usually interesting and underrated actors like Elle Fanning, Keanu Reeves, Desmond Harrington and Jena Malone.  Again, I don’t know what’s going on with Refn as a director, because he’s certainly daring and has talent, but that just makes this one even worse and proves that when talented filmmakers fall, they go down hard and the results are often not pretty.

 7. Nocturnal Animals

2009’s A Single Man was a pretty excellent debut film by former fashion designer Tom Ford, looking at the insular life of a 1960s English professor struggling with the death of his male lover and his societal alienation relating to the real-life events of the time (specifically, the Cuban Missile Crisis) and his semi-closeted homosexuality.  It was a film that somehow felt realistic and dream-like at the same time and it had Ford’s assured direction, a tangible atmosphere, a lack of pretension and some excellent performances (most notably by its lead, Colin Firth) to make it all work. Here we are 7 years later with Ford’s second film, Nocturnal Animals, and let me tell you; “sophomore slump” doesn’t even begin to describe this one.  It has similar ambitions of giving us an ethereal atmosphere and exploration of sexual hang-ups, as well as intentions of giving us deep and profound perspectives on the characters that make up this psychological drama/thriller hybrid, but this is an empty, painfully obvious, insufferably pretentious and extremely ugly disaster that represents a massive comedown for him and the amazing cast he assembled, as well as 2016’s Exhibit A of awful and sanctimonious films with awards season hopes that fooled some people into thinking it’s a profound and artistic masterpiece, but not me.

The opening shot of this movie shows us two fully naked and obese women (which the soft-focus camera ogles every inch of) gyrating in a performance art display, a clear sign of the film announcing itself as self-satisfied and embarrassingly "artsy" from the word “go” and diving further down the rabbit hole from there.  Anyway, this sight turns out to be the latest project for an art gallery by curator Susan Morrow (Amy Adams), an insomniac woman who lives in a fancy house with her new husband, Hutton (Armie Hammer).  Susan gets a package in the mail from her ex-husband, Edward (Jake Gyllenhaal), which contains a manuscript entitled Nocturnal Animals, which is the result of him finally writing a book after telling Susan and others for years that he eventually would.  When Hutton leaves town for business, Susan starts reading Edward’s work and becomes deeply engrossed in the story, which we see acted out in between the scenes with Susan.  The story of the book follows Tony (also played by Gyllenhaal) who, while on a road trip with his wife, Laura (Isla Fisher) and teenage daughter India (Ellie Bamber), is harassed by a group of lowlife reckless drivers, led by Ray Marcus (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who eventually knock Tony’s car off of the road and psychologically torture him and his family.  This results in the men kidnapping Laura and India, while leaving Tony alone in the Texas desert.  Tony eventually is able to find his way to town and gets in contact with Bobby Andes (Michael Shannon), a hardened police officer who teams up with Tony to try and find Ray and his accomplices, while also, hopefully, finding Laura and India. In addition to this, we get flashbacks to the days of Susan and Edward’s relationship, starting with their first meeting and going through the moments in their marriage that would eventually bring an end to it.  This is because Susan has these memories awakened as she reads the book, recognizing that it’s a clear metaphor for their failed marriage.  From its themes, topics and characters, as well as the concept of it making Edward a heroic and proactive defender of himself and his family which, in their marriage and through most of his life, he was not, it’s a case of art imitating life that Susan is strongly reacting to, while also perhaps revealing that her current marriage and existence isn’t as great as it seems and the possible regrets that she may have over leaving Edward.    

I feel like Tom Ford was trying to emulate David Lynch with this one, given how the latter often uses surreal and sometimes shocking imagery to effectively tap into the dramatic intrigue and, sometimes, extremely twisted humor related to human taboos and our personal demons/mental baggage.  Indeed, the cinematically rare form of nudity in the opening that I snidely dismissed earlier is the kind of thing that I’ve seen Lynch do, but in the case of his best films, they take similar material, as well as other even bleaker concepts than we see here, and make them amount to something dramatically, while also drawing the audience into the off-beat, yet still authentic universe of its story and characters.  I get that the point of this movie is to dive into the guts of relationships and emphasize the regrets, second thoughts, neuroses and emotional baggage that often connect to them, but unlike the aforementioned Lynch’s Eraserhead and Mulholland Drive (the latter of which I’ve heard this one ludicrously compared to in a favorable context), the narrative content here is pathetically shallow and obvious, while the bizarre stylistic touches are overcompensating, self-conscious, grotesque just for the sake of being grotesque and full of cynical, empty and insultingly on-the-nose symbolism that tries and fails to make the movie come off as more intelligent, profound and vital about its story and characters than it really is.

Ooh, Edward’s book is him airing out the dirty laundry of his marriage by writing himself into the role of Tom because he was a weak man when he was married to Susan and guess what?  He’s weak here, too, but with an arc that gives him a chance to not be impotent (likely in more ways than one), while also emphasizing the Freudian mommy issues he’s working out by the treatment of Laura and India (who clearly are reflecting his marriage to Susan), as well as emphasizing how much of an empty progressive closet basket-case Susan is (which, in all honesty, he is correct about).  Isn’t that clever?  No, not really; it just seems like an empty, self-aggrandizing and ridiculous passive-aggressive game that Edward’s playing as an answer, I guess, to the same tactic Susan used when they were married, the latter of whom is now drawn into the book and wondering if maybe she was wrong with how coldly she treated him.  Regardless, it’s not interesting or investing, because Susan and Edward are not sympathetic or particularly engrossing characters, there are multiple loose ends that waste time and add nothing to them or the plot (specifically, the infidelity of Hutton and what she saw in him to make her want to marry him) and also, because the structure of bouncing between the main plot, the flashbacks of Susan and Edward together and the story of the book make it so there’s no stakes here.  We already know that their relationship is over and, no matter what happens in the book or the flashbacks, nothing’s really going to change in the main story because of their massive physical distance from each other (I believe she’s in California and he’s on the East Coast) and their now totally different lives. You’d think that the ending of the film would be the key to making everything we see matter regarding the trajectories of Susan and Edward, particularly in connection with the book, but it doesn’t, as it boils down to simplistic moralizing in an unfulfilling and abrupt open-ended close that feels as if it’s only like that so it can claim that it’s not a quick and tidy resolution and that the movie has “depth” and “layers,” which it doesn’t.

As far as the story of Edward’s manuscript is concerned, it’s pretty clichéd and predictable pulp revenge crime fare with some really repulsive and exploitative narrative spice to really force its sense of menace.  Specifically, I had a big problem with Ray and his goons, who are so over-the-top with how repugnant they are, both in terms of their appearance and actions, that every scene with them took me out of the film.  Yet, the movie relishes in them and their exploits, to the point of kind of sexualizing them, particularly as it relates to their treatment of Laura and India and even to a bizarre and (allegedly) darkly comedic scene where Ray is using a toilet that he has on his front porch and is asking permission to wipe before he can talk to Bobby, who came by to investigate.  Also not helping is the performance by Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Ray, since he’s just an empty creep who’s unctuously trying too hard to be threatening and only succeeding in spots because of the inherent seediness of the material and who, again, is such a massive turn-off that I couldn’t stay invested (not that I was drawn in much anyway).  I constantly get into arguments with friends as to whether Johnson’s worst acting was in 2014’s Godzilla (which I say he was fine in), but his role here is the one I’d give that dubious distinction to, and I’d like to think that those who hated him in Godzilla would be begging for that role again after seeing him here.  

Come to think of it, most of the acting in this film is sub-par or the actors are just wasted, despite some pretty big talent on display here.  Amy Adams as Susan is stilted and dull, but not for a good story reason or in a particularly intriguing way (unlike, say, her far better role in the recent Arrival), Johnson, as I said, is awful, Armie Hammer is bland and pushy as Hutton, and Isla Fisher, Jena Malone, Michael Sheen and Laura Linney contribute so little to the film that they’re only worth mentioning to remind people that “hey, they’re in this” (Linney is only in one scene as Edward’s mother, where she adds less weight and importance than her turn in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out Of The Shadows, of all things).  The only performance here that I liked is from Michael Shannon as Bobby, especially because he has a semi-interesting (if not kind of stock) arc and some good rapport and chemistry with Jake Gyllenhaal, the latter of whom is only of note in the scenes he shares with Shannon (outside of that, he’s mannered to a distracting and off-putting degree, while making me depressed that, after his career-best performance in Nightcrawler, Gyllenhaal’s lost his touch badly given this, Demolition and Southpaw).  Actually, I could see those two actors working well in a movie that’s just in the style of the story of the book here, as they’ve shown before that they’re up to the task and their scenes also have a few jump scares that did work on me.  Then again, I’m basically saying that Ford should have ditched most everything here and made a completely different movie than what Nocturnal Animals ended up being, which if it turned out not being the slick, talent-wasting, vile and pretentious junk that this is, would have been fine by me.  

8. Ghostbusters

Oh yeah, I’m goin’ there. We all know about the Ghostbusters movie we got this year from Bridesmaids director Paul Feig, which ignited a firestorm of controversy over the fact that it was not a continuation of the story from the two 1980s films, but a new one with 4 women in the lead roles. The announcement of this resulted in outrage and worry over its trailers from hardcore fans of the originals, some of which was repulsively sexist, while we also got screams of sexism from social justice warriors convinced this it having women in it would make it better than the earlier films, some of which was also beyond the pale, most notably the debate-destroying rhetoric coming from director Feig himself, who went on Twitter tirades against fans and critics that are much too vulgar for me to print here (even against some people who were being reasonable and not sexist in their skepticism over the film and yes, there were those who were against this picture before its release without being misogynistic about it).  Too bad for Feig then, that the early suspicions of his Ghostbusters were totally justified, because this is a slapdash, immature, draggy, unfunny and warmed-over disaster that’s less interested in being a funny current-day twist on an 80s classic than being a politically correct apology for it and the era that saw its release.  Not to mention, in the most ironic of twists, this awful film is sexist as all get out, proving that Feig, the massively overrated (seriously, I haven’t recommended any film of his) and so-called “most female-friendly male comedy director,” is a massive hypocrite with even more massive deflection issues.

Like the original, the film opens with a paranormal attack and then, shifts to Columbia University, where this time, Dr. Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig) is currently on the tenure track and is reminded of a book she once published that supposedly contained evidence that ghosts are real.  Erin’s former colleague, Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy), tipped off another publisher about the book, because Abby wants her and Erin to reunite and get back to proving that ghosts are real, while Erin wants to bury it all, fearing it’ll jeopardize her chances at tenure.  After the dean of Columbia, Harold Filmore (Charles Dance), finds out about Erin’s past via a Youtube video of her and Abby apparently seeing a ghost, Erin’s fired, as are Abby and her new partner, Jillian Holtzmann (Kate McKinnon), so the three women steal some equipment from Columbia (because theft = feminism, right?) and open up their own paranormal studies shop.  They’re particularly curious about a group of reported sightings of ghosts around New York, despite the claims of a famous ghost debunker, and they get a particularly strong lead when they meet Patty (Leslie Jones), an African American MTA subway worker who claims she saw a ghost on the tracks. Using Jillian’s ghost-catching equipment from her uncle and an old hearse, the four women, including Patty, begin seeking and busting ghosts all around town, while their dim secretary, Kevin Beckman (Chris Hemsworth), holds down their headquarters, located above a Chinese takeout shop.  Meanwhile, a male loner named Rowan (Neil Casey) seems to be connected to all the ghost attacks happening and the recent sightings have caught the eye of Mayor Bradley (Andy Garcia) and his assistant Jennifer Lynch (Cecily Strong), who balance between wanting the new Ghostbusters’ help and keeping the public calm.

There are a few things I want to explain up-front before I go on.  First of all, though I love the original Ghostbusters film from 1984, I didn’t first see it until 2004 and I still haven’t seen 1989’s Ghostbusters 2, so I don’t have a nostalgic horse in this race when I say this new movie’s junk.  Second, I don’t hate this movie because the new Ghostbusters are female and, even though it’s a very sad statement on American society that I even need to say something as obvious as this, I’m not against the concept of female Ghostbusters. Indeed, it’s possible to make a more feminist take on a popular 80s series that also captures the so-called testosterone-fueled aura that it originally became a hit for, which was the case with last year’s Mad Max: Fury Road. That film was my pick for the best movie of 2015 for, among other things, emphasizing its new feminist angle in a wonderfully organic way via the Furiosa character, which wonderfully dovetailed with and was effectively balanced between the more machismo angle of Max, both in context of that movie and in that series’ past 3 installments. Ghostbusters’ feministic approach is not organic and, like Terminator Genisys last year, the movie’s push for it gives off the aura that there’s something morally unacceptable with the 1984 original not having women in the lead roles.  If the earlier films were hateful in some way, that would be one thing, but both The Terminator and Ghostbusters showed stronger female portrayals for the time than they’re given credit for, the former due to Sarah Connor’s strong and active female presence alongside John Connor (along with her basically being the savior of the galaxy) and the latter due to both Annie Potts’s Janine and Sigourney Weaver’s Dana, who had dimension, depth and a personal drive separate from the male leads that still stood out.  So, if these two movies are arguing that the originals were sexist, which I say they are, they don’t know what they’re talking about, not to mention that neither of these modern versions show any gratitude to their classic inspirations because, let’s be honest; they’d never exist without the originals.  

Meanwhile, this Ghostbusters movie is sexist, and I’m not talking about the way it paints its male characters (I guess you could argue that by how it makes Kevin such an obvious and unfunny idiot and Rowan a walking, talking, self-aggrandizing self-commentary on the film’s pre-release controversy, but it’s more pathetically cheap and lazy to me than hateful). We were told that the idea of the female Ghostbusters movie was to break the patriarchy by subverting the usual Hollywood female character clichés, but shockingly, it’s actually reinforcing those stereotypes by the insulting way it draws its leads, which was the last thing I expected.  Outside of their science knowledge, which is just thickly laid on for expository purposes that aren’t interesting, logical or humorous, Erin, Abby and Jillian are just quip-machines with no personalities or interesting development, except for the aforementioned female character stereotypes, which the film repeatedly bombards us with like a bad sitcom and which none of the actresses can overcome.  Erin’s supposed to be a strong, independent woman, but that’s undone by how film portrays her as the typical meek and quiet nerd who’s suddenly and unbelievably attracted to the first hot guy she sees (Kevin) and, in a later scene played for cheap and unearned pathos, tells us she was bullied as a child.  As far as Abby and Jillian are concerned, Abby’s a rehash of the now beyond tired Melissa McCarthy fat-shaming shtick with her constantly falling down, yelling and being obsessed with food, (the Chinese place is constantly getting her dumpling order wrong), and Jillian’s a pushy, endlessly free-spirited, reckless and empty science girl-power wizard who thinks she’s funnier than she really is.  

Yeah, with tropes like those, these characters aren’t exactly empowering or breaking the mold by how they’re depicted (certainly not like Furiosa in Fury Road) but worst of all, they’re not funny either, despite the past talents of Wiig, McCarthy and McKinnon.  Also, director Feig makes the same mistake here that he did with Bridesmaids; he thinks these actresses are so funny and that every line they speak is comedic gold, that he lets them riff on and on in every so-called comedic scene, which drags them out way past the point where they might have had a shot at being funny, kills the pace of the film and made me resent the cast and crew for their unwillingness to show some restraint (the scene set to Debarge’s Rhythm Of The Night is a perfect example of that and there are many others begging for a good editor).  As far as Patty’s concerned, she’s also a stereotype and, on paper, a potentially racist one, given her constant attitude, street smarts and jive-talking, but to be honest, she’s the character I liked the most here because, unlike Wiig, McCarthy and McKinnon, Leslie Jones is able to rise above her underwritten role.  Jones’s delivery and cynical outlook was refreshing and better in practice than I expected from what we saw of Patty in the trailers, to the point where I did smile a couple of times at some of her cracks (which, interestingly enough, make me think of her as this new team’s closest equivalent to Bill Murray’s Peter Venkman from the earlier movies, as opposed to some arguing Wiig’s Erin does that) and where I wished the whole movie was about her.  The idea of a character I already like (more than any of the other leads) in a working-class job who has the talents and knowledge of New York City and the subway system that Patty has getting involved with the paranormal herself, I think, would be a great idea for the Ghostbusters enterprise. It could fit in with many of the themes of the series, while also changing it up on the angle of being a solo paranormal warrior/entrepreneur and also, being an African American woman breaking through to success, perhaps by learning about the technological stuff on the internet and buying the old Ghostbusters’ gear on eBay (almost like Nightcrawler if it were a comedy). But now, I’m just giving free advice about the film I’d like to have seen instead of the one I actually saw.  

Even with Jones making a good impression and with this being a slightly better Melissa McCarthy movie than The Boss (a low bar to clear, as I specified earlier), none of that is enough to save the film, or make up for its other issues.  The film’s humor, along with just not being funny, is frequently desperate and, at times, crude in a way that doesn’t work and doesn’t fit with this enterprise (hit to the groin jokes? No thanks), the Ghostbusters fan service, with one globular exception, is flat and pathetic, the special effects are bad (and not in an “I’m paying homage to the past” way), the villainous Rowan is just creepy and not an interesting or memorable antagonist, the movie’s way too long at 2 hours and the editing is atrocious, with scenes that transition abruptly, lack cohesion and/or drop earlier subplots entirely, as if the film wasn’t finished or, more likely, was cut down from an R rating to a "family friendly" PG-13.  Thankfully, despite Feig and Sony demanding we like/accept this and vilifying/labeling us if we didn’t, America saw that this Ghostbusters was just an unfunny and bad cash-grab that was cynically riding on the gender twist on its previously beloved male creation that can’t even do its social justice angle right and refused to support it.  Now, where else did we see that deservedly happen in 2016? Hmm…

9. Ratchet & Clank

Ahh, the video game to movie adaptation.  Since the 1990s, movie studios have taken popular video games series and turned them into movies in the hopes of getting long-time fans of the franchises to buy a ticket, while also convincing newcomers to do the same.  Too bad that, with the exception, I’d say, of Hitman (the first one) and a few cases of guilty pleasures, like Dead Or Alive and some of the Resident Evil movies, there really hasn’t been a good video game movie adaptation, as they’ve failed as films, first and foremost, and also, failed to capture the essence of the game in question.  This year, we got 4 movies based on video games (the others were The Angry Birds Movie and two I missed; Assassin’s Creed and Warcraft), but the one that got my attention and anticipation the most was Ratchet & Clank. This series, going back to the PlayStation 2 days (and continuing even today), was a fun and funny cartoony platform shooter with an appealingly sly and knowing sensibility about itself, so the idea of a CG animated movie based on the series sounded like a perfect fit and, when I heard it was co-written by T.J. Fixman, who wrote the scripts for the PS3 and PS4 Ratchet & Clank games, and was directed by TMNT director Kevin Munroe, whose first gig was directing a 2003 video game called Freaky Flyers, I thought this one couldn’t possibly fail.  Yet, it turned out to be the worst animated film I saw this year, as well as a disgrace to this great series, but most ironically, it was a bad game adaptation that, amazingly, did capture the spirit of the franchise, while somehow still missing the point and screwing up.  

The film is a loose retelling of the story from the original 2002 game, with the galaxy being taken over by Chairman Drek (Paul Giamatti), starting with him and his henchmen, the Blargg, destroying an abandoned planet.  The attack gains the attention of the galaxy’s main heroes, the Galactic Rangers, led by their pompous and self-absorbed, but apparently beloved leader, Captain Quark (Jim Ward), who put out a talent search for a new face to add to their team to help fight and defeat Drek.  Enter a young and orphaned lombax (think a bipedal bobcat and you get the idea) named Ratchet (James Arnold Taylor), a junk-shop mechanic’s assistant who’s a huge fan of the Galactic Rangers and dreams of making the cut and going on space-faring adventures with them, much to the dismay of his boss, Grimroth (John Goodman).  Meanwhile, Drek has learned of the intended plan of the Rangers and breaks Quark’s arch nemesis, Dr. Nefarious (Armin Shimerman), out of jail to intimidate them and build a robot army to stop them, but not before one of the rejected robots they make hears of Drek and Nefarious’s plans, escapes from the factory and crash lands on Ratchet’s planet.  Ratchet finds the robot, named Clank (David Kaye), and brings him along to try and join the Rangers which, because of Clank’s information, he’s able to, and the rest of the film follows Ratchet, Clank and the Rangers’ quest to stop Drek and Nefarious, as well as showing Quark’s jealously of Ratchet’s increasing popularity with his group and with the citizens following Ratchet and Clank’s successful rescue of the city from Drek’s initial robotic onslaught.

All the while, the movie has the same knowing and sly sense of humor as the video games, including the scene-setting text that skewers the self-important aura that usually comes with such displays and some of the smile-inducing PlayStation in-jokes, with references to other cartoony Sony game series like Sly Cooper and an audio cue that’s actually the boot-up jingle of the original PlayStation console.  Finally, after years of video game movies not capturing the spirit of their subjects, Ratchet & Clank is one of the few that actually does it, yet I hated this movie, felt totally miserable watching it and all those things I mentioned that worked so well in the games fail terribly in this film translation. Considering how accurate it sounds like it is, how did that happen?  I think it comes down to two things, both of which reflect my now shifted opinion that a video game movie being accurate alone is not enough to make it work.  First, like Zack Snyder’s 2009 film translation of the graphic novel, Watchmen, it’s too accurate for its own good, to the point where it’s so obsessed with being a great movie version of the original source material, that it, ironically, doesn’t realize that it’s lost touch with the meaning of what they’re adapting.  

Yeah, we have all the voice actors, characters, set-pieces, and narrative methods and beats of the Ratchet & Clank enterprise, but what of it?  I didn’t feel any connection to this world or its inhabitants, even with my previous knowledge and fandom of the games, the jokey asides quickly get aggravating and repetitive in a way that the games never did, there’s a surprisingly mean streak here with the smart and nerdy characters being constantly mocked and shamed (hey, filmmakers, this series and the video game world it belongs to is always viewed with those stereotypes, is kept going by people who'd be pigeonholed into that cultural box and were clearly your target audience here; how stupid can you be by attacking them?), and the movie makes a big miscalculation in its depiction of the two main characters.  In all of the games, Ratchet and Clank are inseparable from each other and the stories have both of them in the center of all the action and plot developments.  The film, however, almost completely sidelines Clank by focusing on Ratchet and his clichéd arc of the passionate and talented nerd who keeps pushing for respect and his dreams, even as he’s getting smacked down in life.  I don’t mind that the film starts with that approach, since it is consistent with developing Ratchet and Clank separately before bringing them together, just like the first game did, but I do mind that the movie tosses Clank aside after that, because the stuff without him isn’t interesting enough to make me forget it, what little development we do get of them together is poorly defined and lacks consistency (and even being a fan of the games like me doesn’t help that) and it ultimately squanders a great opportunity that the movie had to capture the main narrative strength from the games; the great chemistry and byplay between Ratchet and Clank.  That, and it’s false advertising; I paid money to see Ratchet AND Clank, people.

The second main element that makes it fail, I think, is the filmmakers’ lack of understanding of the differences between the medium of cinema and the medium of video games. After seeing many films based on a work from a non-movie source over my years, I’ve ultimately come to the conclusion that it’s impossible to compare the success of a film to the success of a video game or, for that matter, a book, a comic, a stage play, a written play or any other medium you care to choose, because they’re intrinsically different art forms.  What works in a video game may not easily translate to a film, just like the elements that make a movie work might not always be as effective in a game, because one is a passive medium and the other is an interactive one. Considering that director Kevin Munroe has worked in both mediums before, it’s surprising that he wasn’t able to imbue this film with the tricks he learned from his game experience or, for that matter, from his past movie experience. I kept thinking of his underrated 2007 film, TMNT, which kind of played like a fun mix of a movie and a game by giving us the characterizations that an animated film can bring, while also delivering some technically impressive looking and executed action scenes that we love having in a video game, which is best shown in that great courtyard fight scene that looked like something a game could have done, but adding cinematic flair to it, namely by impressively staging it to play out in a 5 minute long unbroken shot.  

Ratchet & Clank, by comparison, doesn’t blend the two well because, despite its great voice cast (including the game’s cast, as well as usually dependable talents like Paul Giamatti and Sylvester Stallone), they’re wasted, not funny and they don’t make the characters interesting to grab us like a movie should, while on the game side, the action is badly staged and dull, the CG animation is shockingly bland (and doesn’t even look as good as the decade old PlayStation 3 Ratchet & Clank game, Tools Of Destruction, let alone the most recent PlayStation 4 one) and despite its stabs at capturing the spirit of the enterprise, it still fails to make us embrace, enjoy and accept it on that level as a representation of the series.  The good news is that people mostly avoided this movie (though clearly, I didn’t) and it seems to have not had a negative effect on the game franchise, which is still the best way to get yourself acquainted with these great characters, especially since the cost of one of the old PS2 or PS3 games is likely cheaper than either the original ticket price for this or its now bargain-bin destined DVD/Blu-Ray.

10. The BFG

Wow, this was an awful year for live-action fantasy adaptations based on books because, out of all the ones I saw in 2016, not a single one was good.  The BFG, to be fair, is probably not as bad a movie in that category as the other two that I’ll be tearing apart in my 11-20 list, but the reason that this made the list over those is because its badness is more upsetting and unacceptable to me.  Let’s be honest here; when you scroll down and see the names of those other two similar films, I guarantee that, if you really think about the recent pedigree of their series and/or directors, the appearance of their lack of quality to me will not at all be surprising to you, regardless of whether you agree with me or not.  However, The BFG, even more than the also crushing Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them, is the book-to-movie fantasy this year that sounded like an obvious home run, given that it’s based on the famous Roald Dahl novel (which, for once, makes this a film based on a book where I’ve actually read the book), it was written by the late scribe of E.T., Melissa Mathieson, it’s shares the same director as E.T., Steven Spielberg and the title role was given to the great Mark Rylance, who deservedly won an Oscar last year for his role in Spielberg’s previous film, Bridge Of Spies (my 10th best movie of 2015).   In fact, this sounded so great to me that, of all the major movies that came out last summer, this is the one I was looking forward to the most, which made it all the more painful and rage-inducing that it ended up as an empty, dull, emotionally inert and off-putting style over substance mess that's as bad a movie from Spielberg since, ironically, the last film he opened on 4th Of July weekend, 2005’s War Of The Worlds.  

The movie opens just like the book does, with young orphan Sophie (Ruby Barnhill) suffering from insomnia and finding herself awake yet again at 3 am at the London orphanage she lives at.  She calls this time “the witching hour,” where she goes out to her balcony to look out and see if any monsters, like those she reads about in her books, happen to show up. One night, she hears a noise and, when she looks out, she sees a giant running around the streets and, when the giant spots her, he takes Sophie away and back to his home in Giant Country. Sophie, having read in books that giants tend to have a penchant for eating children, fears for her safety, especially when the giant tells her that she’ll need to live with him forever to prevent the secret of giants from being revealed to “human beans,” as he calls them, but the giant turns out to be friendly and not interested in eating her. Actually, the giant, who Sophie then starts to refer to as BFG, or the Big Friendly Giant (played by Mark Rylance) has the power of capturing and disseminating dreams, with a particular interest of providing good dreams to children, hence his frequent midnight runs around London.  That’s in direct contrast to a group of bigger and meaner giants, let by Fleshlumpeater (Jemaine Clement), who constantly harass the BFG and like nothing more than eating children, traits of which are intensified when they believe that the BFG is harboring a child.  As the BFG tries to protect Sophie, she suggests that he fights back against the bullies, resulting in a scheme to manipulate the dreams of the Queen of England to keep both of them safe, as well as protect other children as it relates to potential death by consumption at the hands of the giants.  

If you’re familiar with the book, like I am, you’ll be able to tell that this is actually a pretty faithful cinematic translation of the story, what with the setups, characters and lines of dialogue, particularly the made-up words (like snozzcumber and frobscottle) and the BFG’s different ideas of human terms and concepts.  Also, the film certainly looks beautiful and appropriately other-worldly, thanks to some pretty vivid art direction and use of color (most effective in the scene in the realm of dreams), seamless CG of the giants, good cinematography by Janusz Kiminski and a convincing sense of scale between Sophie, the BFG and the other giants.  Also, the lead performances by Rylance as the BFG and Barnhill as Sophie are expressive and did seem accurate to characters (though Barnhill is playing that stereotypical wide-eyed young "wise prior to her years" British girl trope a bit too heavily for me).  So, if I like the way this film looks, enjoy the lead characters and are saying that it accurately captures the book’s story and atmosphere in the film, why do I hate it? Well, because like Ratchet & Clank, this is one of those “they know the words, but not the music” situations, where I didn’t feel any heart, humanity or connection to the world and characters that I got out of the book, effectively nullifying any of this film’s positives and its surface accuracy to the original source material.  I say that the accuracy to the book is “surface” because, though it looks and seems to get everything right with its setup and technical elements, it fails to capture the underlying feelings related to them, specifically the bond between Sophie and the BFG.

It’s not that the movie rushes through or cuts down the scenes developing the relationship between the BFG and Sophie, because it doesn’t.  The characters (and by extension, the audience) do get the time needed to talk, get to know each other and establish themselves and their bond, unlike too many other family films, including book adaptations like this, which tend to overcompensate and show their lack of audience trust by just throwing endless frenzy at us.  Sounds perfect on paper, but in practice, I didn’t feel that their relationship was growing at all and I didn’t get a sense of the strange wonder and/or magic connected to this world.  Maybe it’s because the film’s structure is so repetitive, as it’s mostly just going from Sophie and the BFG talking, the mean giants causing trouble, Sophie and the BFG escaping, a fantasy scene to solve Sophie and the BFG’s current problems and back again until the end.  Some may wonder if I’m being hypocritical by criticizing this movie for the same story structure as the book while  trashing the former and praising the latter, but this goes back to my “movies are a different medium” argument, where what comes off effectively in one medium doesn’t automatically work in another, and vice versa.  This movie may be accurate to the book narratively speaking, but unlike the book, I am not feeling engrossed or touched by the film and, I’m sorry, that includes the usage of the made-up words which come off in the movie feeling like nothing but self-consciously precious shop-talk to cover up its failure to draw us into the world and its characters, its failure to tell this story in a way that doesn’t make me feel like it’s flimsy and repetitive and to elongate the movie’s length to 2 hours.  Speaking of the length, I think that may be the other issue here; the pacing is way too slow and draggy and, since I’m not feeling the bond between Sophie and the BFG and, thus, I’m not caring about them in the way I should be, that becomes a negative, even knowing that a more deliberate pace should fit this story.

I couldn’t believe how uninterested and uninvested I was in this movie and, about halfway through, I could almost feel my stomach sinking as the realization came over me that “this movie isn’t ever going to start clicking with me” and that my most anticipated film of the summer was crashing and burning in front of my eyes.  At this point, I started to mentally check out of this, as did the restless, talkative and, in one case, iPad using kids at my screening (suggesting that even kids might not like this, while also suggesting they’re incapable of common audience courtesy at the movies), but it was as the film entered its third act that it went beyond a massive personal disappointment into a never-ending time-waster that I actively resented in a soon rapidly growing fashion. I suggested earlier that the film wastes our time with the book’s fake words that it should have been able to use for character and world-building, but it really does that later on when the plot literally stops for that awful scene when Sophie and the BFG have breakfast at the palace.  This is a 10-minute scene where literally nothing plot-related happens, despite the previous scene having them cement their plan to fight back against the giants, and the forced whimsy, overproduced production design and the self-consciously twee dialogue on display here drove me insane.  And what’s the big payoff of that scene?  A massive, pathetic and unfunny fart joke.  Which reminds me, this film has a litany of scatological and crude humor that I don’t remember from the book (or remember being a turn-off), which is just unpleasant, ugly and desperate, including the other fart jokes induced by the BFG’s beloved frobscottle fizzy drink and the hits to the crotch that the mean giants take (hmm, maybe this movie doesn’t respect the intelligence of the audience after all).  

Also, the evil giants themselves have nothing interesting going for them, except how repulsive they are, the only reason I care about the BFG and Sophie defeating them is so they’ll go away and also, regarding that plan they have to stop the giants, it actually exudes a pretty unintentionally awful moral to the story.  Without giving too much away, the movie is telling us to follow our dreams at any cost, but when you think about how Sophie and the BFG use dreams to gain the assistance of the Queen to help them with the giants, it’s telling us that we should never give up on our dreams, even when they’re rooted in violence, ignorance and delusion as they end up being, a message that, considering the kind of world we’re living in now, isn’t something that anyone should be condoning, especially like this. So yeah, The BFG is a pretty awful movie coming from people who really should have known better and, after being so horribly crushed by this, it’s enough to make me more careful about anticipating films that seem, on the surface, to be a sure thing, as well as justification to write the following on the epitaph of the awful summer movie season that this came out during; "At least we got Finding Dory and Pete’s Dragon."

Now, for the 11-20 worst films of the year, listed in alphabetical order:

 The Accountant

If you go by the review scores I gave to the films in this worst of essay, this crime thriller/drama from Miracle and Warrior director Gavin O'Connor about a world-wandering autistic Illinois accountant with a secret penchant for armed and unarmed combat, espionage and finding himself involved in corruption and murder plots is the one I liked most, given that I gave it 2 stars out of 4 (the other 19 films scored less).  However, I also said that “I’m being a bit nice with that score” when I reviewed it, due to how impenetrable, uninteresting and empty it is and also, because of its quite ugly elements, especially its two-faced and ultimately hateful attitude towards people with autism.  After thinking about The Accountant a little more and also, seeing how its offensive outlook at people with mental disabilities fits a pervasive and hateful pattern in modern films, I realize I was definitely being too kind to it and I can feel myself resenting it one more and more with each passing day, so it’s now on my bottom 11-20 list.  

The movie stars Ben Affleck (who really had a horrible 2016 at the movies between this, Batman V Superman, Suicide Squad and, apparently, his own Live By Night) as Christian Wolff, an autistic accountant who’s brought in by John Lithgow’s Lamar Black to find the source of a multi-million-dollar leak in his robotics company’s bottom line, which was noticed by the company’s in-house account, Dana Cummings, played by Anna Kendrick.  Meanwhile, because of Christian’s double-life between his local financial consulting and shady dealings with foreign criminals, he’s starting to be noticed by Treasury Department financial director, J.D King (J.K. Simmons), who wants more information about who Christian is and blackmails young analyst Marybeth (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) to help him.  After figuring out where the leak is in record time, Christian is stopped by Lamar after the CFO of the robotics company mysteriously dies,  but he was actually murdered by an assassin for knowing too much about their complex embezzlement/conspiracy plot against the company and soon enough, Christian and Dana’s lives are also threatened but, because Christian is such a capable fighter, they’re able to survive while Christian heads off to stop the people behind the scheme, all while J.D and Marybeth are closing in on him and while Christian takes his cues from the voice of a mysterious woman.  

OK, first off, this story is way too jagged and throws so much information at the audience that we end up scratching our heads, but less in the “hmm, I wonder where this is going to go and I’m intrigued to see where it ends up” way than in the “I’m lost and I just don’t care anymore” way.  Eventually, the movie also gives up on itself when J.D and Marybeth reach Christian’s now abandoned house, resulting in a scene where the story literally stops for 15 minutes as we sit there and watch J.D. explain everything to us that the movie should have been making clear to us before that point.  From there, the film pushes towards its contrived, ridiculous and insulting ending and bombards us with choppy, uninteresting and, especially in the scenes set at night, incomprehensible action scenes that sickeningly relish in the suffering of the innocent victims and, at times, have the nerve to try and make that cruelty funny (the scene with the CFO and a local farming owning couple are particularly galling), all while showing us how Christian deals with the happenings around him and how his autism comes into play.  

That latter point is where this movie really offended me because I myself have a form of autism and, though I understand the idea of giving a deeper psychological angle to the characters on paper, in practice, the autism material is full of logical holes and adds nothing but an excuse to stereotype Christian and, by extension, all autistic people as obsessives with a potential fighter/killer in them who are sometimes really funny with their inability to understand every social cue that so-called normal people claim to be able to pick up on instantly. Considering all the modern-day finger-waving we get from bleeding hearts (including many people in this cast and crew) about how we need to show respect to everyone who’s different, it’s disgustingly hypocritical that this film is taking that approach regarding Christian (as is the late-film moralizing about it and the reference to autism experts in the credits, who are either 1988 mentality quacks or, more likely, had their input ignored by the filmmakers) and, even worse, the film blows its obvious openings to actually do something dramatically interesting with autism in the context of the story.  For example, when Christian and Dana first meet, she’s really nervous, has her own repetitive patterns and is constantly stuttering, which had me thinking “Great! She’s showing signs of less severe autism, which should add a unique dimension to their involvement in and bond during the conspiracy plot!”  But no; she’s not autistic and, after the scene in the hotel, she totally disappears and their relationship ends up going nowhere and adding nothing.  The acting and pacing are OK, I guess, but I don’t care about anything or anyone here and it’s offensive, so don’t waste your time.

 Alice Through The Looking Glass

I didn’t see the 2010 live-action Alice In Wonderland film directed by Tim Burton, but it was apparently a tepidly reviewed box-office smash that eventually triggered a massive internet-fueled backlash against it.  As such, we got its probably not so anticipated sequel, Alice Through The Looking Glass, this year, which Tim Burton skipped out on directing (he was busy making his own junky 2016 film that you may also soon be hearing about from me) and, as my introduction to this interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s stories about the girl who fell down the rabbit hole into a magical world without logic or consistency, it makes me even more glad that I missed the original, because this follow-up is a totally uninteresting, empty, soulless and pathetic excuse for a family fantasy movie.  Apparently, audiences agreed, because this was a massive box office bomb and also, apparently, Disney themselves knew they had a disaster on their hands, as you can see signs all over this that even they didn’t have faith in it being worthwhile.

Don’t believe me on that last sentence? Well, in theaters, before the film began, we got the bewildering music video of Hearts On Fire by P!nk (a talented musician who has also shown great acting potential in the underrated Thanks For Sharing, but she's served poorly on both fronts here) that’s themed after the very movie that we’re about to see and even contains many of its big plot revelations.  I get and like the idea of short subjects before Disney family movies, but music videos that spoil parts of the movie we paid for?  Anyway, when the actual movie begins, we see Alice Kingsleigh (Mia Wasikowska) back in the real world as the captain of her father’s ship, The Wonder (that she’s able to be in a position of power like that in 19th century London is more of a fantasy than the Wonderland material, but never mind). When Alice returns to her home in London, she finds out that her father’s company and, by extension, the house of both her and her mother, was bought out by Hamish Ascot (Leo Bill), a man still bitter over Alice apparently refusing to marry him, but who agrees to give the deed to the house back if Alice turns over the ship to him.  Alice refuses and, when she retreats to a room, she sees an old friend in Absolem the caterpillar, who’s now a butterfly (he’s voiced by the late Alan Rickman) and decides to follow him back to Wonderland.  When Alice returns, she sees her other old friends, including Mirana (Anne Hathaway) and the Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry), but quite tellingly, the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp) is not among them.  She’s told that the Hatter is in a deep depression and, when Alice visits him, he tells her that he’s come to think that his family somehow survived the attack on them by the Jabberwocky and begs Alice to help find them.  To do this, Alice is told that she’ll need to travel through time, much to the chagrin of, well, Time (Sasha Baron Cohen), who controls it via his Chronosphere and who has a new girlfriend in the form of Alice’s old enemy, The Red Queen (Helena Bonham Carter).  Alice steals it and travels back to find and save the Hatter’s parents, all while Time is trying to stop her from ruining the space-time continuum and while The Red Queen sees the opportunity to use the Chronosphere herself to become the legitimate queen she’s always dreamt of being and to reverse a childhood battle over tarts with her sister, Mirana, that’s about as pathetic a misunderstanding/third act conflict resolution element in a major release since that infamous “Martha” business in Batman V Superman.

Despite everything potentially interesting going on in this plot and its fantasy world setting of Wonderland, this movie is dead in the water the entire time and has nothing interesting on either a visual or narrative level to make us care about anything that happens.  Regarding the film’s look, despite some decent use of color and special effects, there’s a lifeless quality to it all that keeps you at a distance from this supposedly magical setting, to the point where all I came away with was how much money was tossed at this production design that, at the end of the day, means nothing (that, and the film is too dark in many places, and I saw it in 2D; I’ll bet the 3D version was even worse on that front).  In addition, the action scenes are dull (though at least they’re shot coherently enough) and the direction by James Bobin is flat and indistinguishable from any other pedestrianly directed live-action fantasy film. The film is even worse regarding its story and characters, starting with its time-travel elements that, like most movies about that, is just ridiculous, even as a fantasy, and is littered with stupid and unfunny time puns, as well as gaping loose ends and inconsistencies. I’ve had some people who actually liked this picture argue that "there's no reason for consistency in a Lewis Carroll adaptation” and, to their credit, their more recent familiarity with the book than me and claims that it’s an accurate translation of what’s often considered a daunting book-to-film subject is a valid point.  

Even so, of what I remember from the Alice books, they still had their own twisted logic behind them that they dutifully followed to set up the stakes of the story and its characters and had us invested in the eventual outcome, while also making the heavy narrative lifting they asked of us feel worthy of that commitment.  This movie asks us to just accept this lunacy at face value and shield itself in a lazy “come on, it’s Alice In Wonderland; nothing here has to make sense!” defense, even though the jokes aren’t funny, the plot is boring and has no respect for our intelligence, the film’s message of only being able to learn from the past and not change it is completely contradicted by the fact that they then change the past anyway with no effects on the future, the characters aren’t intriguing or likable and the performances are either just passable (Mia Wasikowska as Alice, but between this and last year’s Crimson Peak, she really needs a new agent) or just aggressively shrill, mugging and embarrassing (in particular, so-called “fantasy film maestros” Sasha Baron Cohen, Johnny Depp, Anne Hathaway and especially Helena Bonham Carter are so terrible here that even the no-name kid actors playing them as youths are acting better than them). The only positives are a late scene that gave me unintended joy over the possibility that all hope was lost for the forces of good (but I wasn’t supposed to feel that way and it’s soon nullified anyway) and the fact that this tanked massively enough to prevent a third Alice film, but they’re not enough to redeem this empty mess.  Then again, I guess it does continue an annual pattern with Disney releasing live-action family film bombs on Memorial Day weekend after last year’s Tomorrowland, but even that massive misfire was infinitely better that this.

 Captain America: Civil War

I really let DC Comics’ film division have it this year, given that I put both their Batman V Superman and Suicide Squad on my 10 worst list, but to all you comic fans gloating that Marvel Studios did better than DC did in 2016, you may want to get off your high horse, because they honestly didn’t do much better themselves.  I’ll admit that Doctor Strange was decent enough, despite its refusal to commit to anything, but Marvel also had their own equivalent to Batman V Superman this year in Captain America: Civil War, the third film in their series about the patriotic plucked-from-the-1940s superhero and, as someone who loved the first two movies about Cap/Steve Rogers and his adventures in both the past and present, this was a dull, bloated, cynical and crushing misfire that robs this series of its defining attributes and characters and reveals its true colors as a shameless cog in both this now going too far Marvel Cinematic Universe business and, ultimately, the Disney/Marvel fanboy/fangirl money making machine.  

You may think I’m being out of line by even mentioning Batman V Superman in the same sentence as this, but the narrative parallels here are obvious and undeniable.  After Captain America (Chris Evans) and his new band of Avengers end up causing unintended collateral damage and death as they fight against group of villains, there’s a push by the world governments and Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) against it that leads to a 2 ½ hour ethical debate about superhero morality/vigilantism in which Cap thinks that the world wants and needs superheroes’ help and are prepared for the unintended consequences and in which Stark argues the opposite viewpoint. This ultimately leads to a group of many Marvel Comics characters coming together and battling it out both intellectually and physically, including not just Iron Man and Cap, but also other figures with future individual movies being made about them, including Black Panther and Spider-Man and, in the third act, the big battle between Iron Man and Cap is tied to the mother of one of them.

Seriously, how is that not the exact same movie as Batman V Superman? Well, to be fair, this is better than Zack Snyder’s film, as it lacks that one’s hateful and misogynistic rancor, there are a few scenes that are decent and, though it does nothing to make me hate the narrative needlessness of them or the shameless plugging of their future movies, the introductions to the new characters, particularly Spider-Man, are interesting and kind of fun, unlike the literal walk-ons of the ones in Batman V Superman.  On the other hand, at least that movie was up front about the idea that it was going to simultaneously be a Batman film and a Superman film (even as it did it badly); Civil War, on the other hand, is selling itself as a Captain America movie, but it’s mostly sidelining Cap, his story and the ancillary faces related directly to his series in favor of giving more attention to Tony Stark (whose character in this film, unlike the others with him in it, is so one-note in his righteousness that I kind of hated him), as well as cramming in all of the hasty character introductions, sideplots and the future films it’s shamelessly trying to set up.  Honestly, this feels more like a bad Avengers sequel that lacks focus and has no concern for anyone in the audience who hasn’t seen every single Marvel Studios movie (and I’ve seen most of them, aside from the last two Iron Man films, and I still felt lost by some of the stuff here), which not only alienates newcomers, but also people like me who paid money to see a Captain America movie with him and his exploits as the primary focus.  

Even if I were able to look past all of that, the film still wouldn’t be interesting or entertaining, because the story is all over the map, the changes in the characters' motivations are completely random, the villain, like most Marvel films, sadly, is forgettable and has a pathetic scheme that’s made even more pathetic by the idiotic reasons for it and the unearned stabs at empathy, the attempts at humor fall flat and, most shocking and unacceptable of all, the action scenes are atrocious.  Seriously, this film shares the same directors and crew as the last Captain America film, The Winter Soldier, which had some of the most tense, well-shot, well-constructed, exciting and exquisite action scenes of any major studio release in the past few years, comic book film or otherwise, so why do the ones in this movie fall into all of the traps that the previous film avoided, particularly its endless and headache-inducing quick cuts and those laughably bad and sped-up special effects?  Also, despite my pacing problems with Winter Soldier, at least that one only dipped in the last 30 minutes; this one’s dull throughout and it runs even longer.  I don’t know what happened with this one and I was really surprised at just how much I disliked it, but even so, because it seems that few people are willing to say that “the emperor has no clothes” with these Marvel Studios films, this still made tons of money and was loved by comic fans. Good for them, but for me, this is exactly the kind of cynical comic Marvel movie product that Deadpool so effectively lampooned, and it’s damaged (hopefully just temporarily) probably my favorite Marvel film series.

 The Edge Of Seventeen

Have you ever wanted a John Hughes style coming-of-age teenage comedy/drama for the snowflake culture (of which we’ve seen and heard from a lot of over the past few years, let alone the past few months) that pretends to be an honest, darkly funny and intriguingly authentic look at teenage life, but is actually completely ignorant and fraudulent of basic human nature and psychology related to teenagers, while also failing to be investing, funny or credible in any way?  I haven’t, but that’s what we got out of The Edge Of Seventeen, a film that a lot of critics liked, as they’ve argued that it’s a great progressive and feminist genre-twist and authentic look at young female life/growth that many teenagers, especially young girls, will be able to easily relate to.  Well, as someone with a concept of mental illness, words this movie religiously refuses to ever let cross its lips, I say that this doesn’t know what it’s talking about and it’s also a long, predictable, painfully mannered, inauthentic and regressive effort, especially in comparison to an infinitely better, similar and deeply underappreciated animated film from last year ironically led by the same actress that plays the protagonist here (more on that later).

The film is about Nadine Franklin, played by Haile Steinfeld who, as the movie opens, we see entering the office of her Mr. Bruner (Woody Harrelson) and telling him that she’s going to kill herself.  We then go back in time to see how Nadine got to the point, starting with her childhood where she was never as popular as her brother, Darian (Blake Jenner), was often picked on by the kids at school and seemed distant from her mother, Mona (Kyra Sedgwick). However, she still had her father, Tom (Eric Keenleyside) and her then new best friend, Krista (Haley Lu Richardson) to keep her happy.  As Nadine grows up, Tom dies of a heart attack to the tune of Billy Joel’s You May Be Right (because apparently, we didn’t have enough heart attack deaths set to Billy Joel in the movies after The Hangover Part 3 did the same thing using My Life), which devastates her and her family and now, at the age of 17, Nadine finds out that Krista is in love with Darian and that they’ve slept together, which sends her over the edge.  In response, Nadine refuses to talk to Krista, is angry, defiant and mean against basically everyone close to her and begins to get the hots for Nick Mossman (Alexander Calvert), a boy who recently got out of reform school for his bad behavior.  Meanwhile, Nadine starts a tentative bond with the awkward, but still kind boy, Erwin Kim (Hayden Szeto), while Mr. Bruner tends to be on the receiving end of Nadine’s sass, which he often takes and then, dishes back out at her tenfold.  We also get a subplot about Mona trying to date again, along with the stories of Krista and Darian, the former wanting to make up with Nadine, the latter basically holding the entire family together, especially with Nadine being how she is now, and both trying to balance their healthy and loving relationship with their bonds to Nadine.

The film wants you to believe that this story is about a teenage girl struggling through hard situations that are exacerbated by being a moody 17-year-old, but that’s a lie.  In reality, it’s actually about a hateful, smug and selfish girl (even by teenager standards and even with her baggage) with clear psychological problems that the movie bends over backwards to avoid honestly dealing with.  This movie is set in 2016, a time when increasingly destructive, self-loathing and hateful behavior from teenagers like Nadine, which includes her mean-spirited and delusional putdowns towards most everyone, the threats she makes towards others and herself (including her claim that she’ll kill herself) and her push for a sexual tryst with Nick, are no longer viewed as just “part of being a teenager,” but as a sign of serious mental health issues. On the home front, Mona’s lack of help with Nadine and, for that matter, Darian, isn’t believable or emphasizing enough that she’s not mentally capable to help her daughter (perhaps because her husband suddenly died, but they fought a lot anyway and she’s pretty quick to try and become sexually involved with a man who turns out to be married, so I don’t feel it) and, at school, the lack of Mr. Bruner calling up a guidance counselor or even Mona after a barrage of troubling comments by Nadine is totally false (in 2016, a public school that, in a post-Columbine world, is likely trained to spot the signs of psychological issues, would not just ignore Nadine’s obvious issues).

How this so-called realistic look at modern teenage angst thought it was OK to try and bury the clear evidence that its lead is psychologically disturbed is beyond me, as is the fact that it’s justifying and glorifying Nadine’s behavior every step of the way without holding her accountable for what she does.  It would be one thing if this film had at least introduced the possibility of mental illness (outside of a token line about her taking anti-depressants and the ending that sweeps even a hint of emotional honesty about Nadine’s mindset under the rug completely), because when mental issues are involved in relation to bad behavior, there has to be a balance between what can be said for the person to have be held responsible for doing and when the illness is talking.  But even then, we’d still need to have a rooting interest in Nadine and believable development of her to make her earn my sympathy and understand for her struggles, which we do not get.  I’m sorry, but as portrayed here in Steinfeld’s pushy performance and with this ignorant and self-conscious script, she’s an unctuous, unpleasant, unfunny (just like the film, by the way) and selfish person who brings everyone around her down to her level of depression and self-hatred if she doesn’t get what she wants and someone who I sided against every time a character in the movie correctly tells her something along the lines of “you’re wrong; get over it.”

Flat out, this movie doesn’t play fair with its lead character and the obvious realities about her and the real-world she’s living in, which sinks the entire thing, despite a few positives in the few scenes between Nadine and Erwin, as well as the lack of high school teenage movie clichés, particularly from Blake Jenner, quite good in the surprisingly not stereotypically jockish sports star role of Darian.  Writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig publicly said this film is intended as a John Hughes tribute with a more modern spin on it, which only proves how phony, ugly and both comedically and dramatically deficient this film is, as Hughes often looked deeply at the psychological angles of his young characters, while contrasting the different worldviews of youths and adults and showing how they can meet in the middle (Jennifer Grey’s similar character in Ferris Buller’s Day Off comes to mind).  Also, going back to that animated film I mentioned that’s a lot like this, perhaps Craig should have paid attention to Hiromasa Yonebayashi's When Marine Was There, which was also about a mentally troubled and depressed teen girl with family tragedies and had Hallie Steinfeld voicing the lead and giving a better and more believable performance, and you should see that one over this overrated and insulting junk.

 Hail, Caesar

The 1950s Hollywood golden age throwback movie is a sub-genre that’s really been languishing in a sorry state over the past year with such pathetic recent excuses for reliving that era such as Trumbo, Café Society and… well, another film I’ll be roasting at the end of this 11-20 list.  Sadly, the usually reliable and interesting Coen brothers, Joel and Ethan, only kept that trend going this year with their contribution, Hail, Caesar, a movie that was generally well-liked, but to me, was a really dull, empty, inexplicable and, honestly, kind of masturbatory exercise in Hollywood style and star power that I kept hoping would get me invested or click with me regarding its meaning and purpose, but it never did.  

The movie is a heavily fictionalized look at 1950s Hollywood studio fixer Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin), who works in this film for Capitol Pictures, a studio all about uplifting and high-class cinematic entertainment.  Two of the biggest films being currently filmed on the lot are Hail, Caesar, a biblical epic similar to Ben Hur and starring the studio’s biggest contract star, Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), and Merrily We Dance, a Broadway play translation starring and marking a stylistic change for Western star Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich), much to the chagrin of its director, Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes).  Both films run into troubles, the latter due to problems with Hobie’s performance and the former because Baird has been kidnapped by a group of former screenwriters turned communists called The Future, who attempt to recruit Baird to help them and later, send a ransom demand to Eddie.  Elsewhere, DeeAnna Moran (Scarlett Johansson) is revealed to be pregnant out of wedlock, threatening the image of the studio and two twin columnists, Thora Thacker and Thessaly Thacker (both played by Tilda Swinton), come calling to Eddie for different reasons, all of which add the multitude of situations that Eddie needs to handle, while also dealing with his own issues with his home life and his sense of personal failings that sends him to confession at his Catholic church to a degree that even the priest says is far too often.  In between, we also get some side-stories (if some of them even qualify for “stories”) with Burt Gurney (Channing Tatum), an actor in a musical about romance-seeking sailors on a brief shore leave, C.C. Calhoun (Frances McDormand), the editor of Merrily We Dance, Arne Seslum (Christopher Lambert), the director with a connection to DeeAnna, Carlotta Valdez (Veronica Osorio), an actress that Hobie is set up with to manipulate his image and Joe Silverman (Jonah Hill), a notary worker who works on the side to help Eddie fix his specific problems.

There’s a lot going on in this movie and, if I had to guess, I think this is intended to be similar to Robert Altman’s 1992 masterpiece, The Player, which was also a comedy/satire about the assorted happenings at a Hollywood studio with one major character surrounding a group of sideline vignettes and other characters.  To be honest, though, I’m not sure if I’m reading the point of this film correctly, but even if I am, it’s nowhere near as interesting or funny as The Player was and I found it so boring that I found myself having to fight really hard to stay awake while watching it, and I was totally awake when it began. Also, though I understand that there’s the overarching plot following Eddie, I didn’t feel that he was connected nearly enough to everything and I felt as if the movie was just bouncing from one scene and/or movie set to another without much cohesion and without enough intriguing narrative material, social commentary or entertainment value to make me feel like anything important was happening.  It’s kind of surprising that I felt that way, given how many massive talents make up the case of this film, but with the exception of newcomer Alden Ehrenreich as the Gene Autry-esque Hobie, I thought all the other actors were either wasted (people like Jonah Hill and Frances McDormand only get one scene), just merely OK (Clooney and even Brolin) or mannered to the point of extreme irritation (I’m thinking of Ralph Fiennes, in particular, as Laurentz, whose line reciting scene with Hobie is aggravatingly repetitive and may forever have me recoil if I ever hear the phrase "would that it were so simple" again in my life).

Having said that, the production design of this film is pretty impressive, as it gives a great sense of time and place to 1951 Hollywood, with great replication of the aura of movie studios of the time and the related camera angles, visual filters, film set accouterments.  Also, I do like the idea of seeing the creative process behind Hollywood studio film genres that were popular at the time, including expensive epics, westerns, musicals and fantasies with Busby Berkeley-style choreographed women in and out of water, and there are a couple of pretty funny scenes that pointed towards a better film, particularly the premiere of Lazy Ol’ Moon, a Western comedy about a drunken cowboy having slapstick accidents and blaming all his troubles in life on the full moon on display at night and an early scene when Eddie meets with a rabbi, a Protestant rector, a Catholic priest, and an Eastern Orthodox minister about the depiction of Jesus Christ in Hail, Caesar (the film within the film, of course), with the hopes to earn widespread religious support for the movie while balancing between all four religions’ different views of Jesus.  Outside of those scenes, though, the rest of the movie drags, even at just over 100 minutes and there’s not enough punchiness to the script and the performers to make enough of the scenes work even nearly as well as those two highlights. Not to mention, as I said, I feel as if this is a film that everyone but me seems to understand the point of, and it’s not interesting enough to be entertained as I try to figure it out or to make me intrigued enough so that I even want to understand it, which is something that the Coens often do quite well, especially in the case of their great Inside Llewyn Davis (a film that, honestly, you can apply some of the same criticisms towards that I’m making on this one, but they fit that film’s narrative and characters much better so that it wasn’t a problem to me there).  Maybe if this film went all the way at trying to be a style throwback (ala The Artist), was a series of unrelated vignettes (like Paris, Je T'aime, a collection of short subjects that the Coens contributed to) or just tinkered the script and direction to better emphasize its surrounding elements and players in relation to Eddie, I would have liked it more and gotten into it, but as it is, it’s probably the weakest film of the Coens so far (even more than The Ladykillers remake to me) and a waste of time, talent and money in my eyes.

 Hello, My Name Is Doris

Every year, we get one or two low-budget independent comedy/drama hybrids that are led by an older and legendary actress and, in the worse cases of them, they seem like they’re specifically designed to attract older and/or less discerning viewers who wish they'd see said elder actress in more modern movies under the notion of “hey, I love ”insert famous actress’s name here” and I’ve missed not seeing her in anything recently, so this is certainly going to be great and I can’t possibly miss it!”  Reading that, you may think I’m making an awfully mean and elitist statement that’s suggesting that I think such audience members are stupid and can’t discern the quality of a movie when it has a performer in it that they love, but in actuality, I’m saying that the movie thinks that, as does its creators and especially big Hollywood studios who pick up junky films like Hello, My Name Is Doris from a small film festivals (in this case, South By Southwest) and then, put it out for its target demographic to be suckered into seeing without showing any respect for their taste or intelligence (not to mention giving Hollywood an excuse to pretend that they're not disgustingly ageist regarding older actresses, even though they totally are).  

Then again, I was also suckered in by this, because I love Sally Field and, after seeing her be the best part of the awful The Amazing Spider-Man 2, I was open to having her lead a new film, but not a tone-deaf, tonally schizophrenic, noncritical and insulting one like this.  Field stars as Doris, a 60-something Staten Island data entry worker with a hoarding problem and a recently dead mother that she looked after for years.  On her return to work after her mother’s death, she meets the company’s new and personable art director, John (played by New Girl’s Max Greenfield), who she becomes quickly smitten with and, after combination of an “I’m possible” mantra of a motivational speaker (Peter Gallagher) and some assistance from her lifelong friend, Roz (Tyne Daly) and Roz’s technologically savvy granddaughter, Doris tries to go after him romantically, despite her age.  Meanwhile, Doris’s brother is getting on her case for her hoarding and insistence to continue living in their mother’s house and, despite gaining more social acceptance than she expected in her pursuit of John, there are details about him that complicate things.  

What I can say in favor of this movie is that Sally Field is doing what she can in the lead role and, for a few scenes, the film is approaching its intended mix of authentic human interaction and semi-broad comedy, particularly from the byplay between Doris and Roz (where Field and Tyne Daly are quite good and have believable chemistry as these lifelong friends) and Doris and the granddaughter and also, in a few scenes that acknowledge and attempt to subvert some of the tropes of stories like this.  Too bad, then, that the script by Michael Showalter (who also directed this) is mostly free of laughs and insight while being mostly full of ugly condescension and hypocrisy, particularly regarding Doris.  Even though she’s supposed to the character we’re intended to feel for, the movie is mostly making fun of her, as it broadly draws her as a pitiable quiet and shy reclusive cat lady who can't let go emotionally or physically and makes her the butt of an endless parade of cheap and mean-spirited jokes about her age and personality... that is, until the inevitable and totally dishonest scene where she cries and opens herself up about her feelings about everything up to that point.  

This movie really wants to have it both ways about every part of it, to the point where, even with that poorly prepared for and preachy third-act pathos, not only do we not buy it on its own (especially since the film totally glosses over the guts of her related psychological issues and hoarding), but we also don’t feel for Doris because, as much as the movie seems to have it out for her, she herself commits a pretty unconscionable and unforgivable action against someone that destroys our sympathy for her (also, it’s completely unrealistic regarding its connection to Facebook, as that plot point is not how Facebook works). Even worse, the movie refuses to call Doris out on it and, without giving too much away, justifies it by abruptly changing into a feminist lecture by painting John as “an emotionally limited little boy,” which he admittingly is, but not for the reason the film is arguing.  Furthermore, there aren’t a whole lot of laughs here, the scenes with her becoming an unexpected fashion/music inspiration are pushy and needlessly vulgar in ways that don’t match the rest of the film and, by the movie’s unwillingness to commit to its more serious subjects in favor of quickly and unrealistically wrapping everything up to have a semi-happy ending, it’s really betraying and spitting in the face of its premise and its target audience, which deserve better than this.  The film, to be fair, isn’t total junk, but I think that’s worse here, since it had the chance to be something special and also, given how angry its rank cynicism made me (and still does as I now think back on it).  

 Independence Day: Resurgence

Remember Roland Emmerich’s Independence Day?  Well, if you don’t, it was a big-budget 1996 alien invasion/B science fiction movie that, for its time, was a gusty, unique and memorable exercise that, despite its higher focus on spectacle and mass destruction special effects than plot and character development, had a tangible energy, forward momentum and sense of urgency that still makes it a fun watch, along with giving us just enough investment in its appealing cast of characters to keep us involved.  Also, if you don’t remember that movie, rest assured that its debatably “long-awaited” sequel, Independence Day: Resurgence, will be reminding you of that 20-year-old hit every 3 or so minutes, to the point where you’ll wish you could smack the movie and tell it to shut up already.  Sadly, that obsession with the original film epitomizes everything that’s wrong with this rehashed and pathetic nostalgia-milking sequel, which is content with just hitting all the bulletpoints of its predecessor, but without adding anything new or doing anything old well, making it a waste of time and money that’s even more inexcusable in a summer that also gave us a great decade plus sequel in Finding Dory, which, unlike this, captured the qualities of its preceding film, while also expanding upon and even improving it.  

The plot takes place 20 years after the original movie and has the aliens that ravaged Earth coming back to unleash a massive superweapon.  For some reason, now ex-President Whitmore (Bill Pullman) knew they were coming back, but everyone else didn’t, so most of the characters look to him for assistance here, including many returning characters from the original like David Levinson (Jeff Goldblum), David’s father, Julius (Judd Hirsch), General Gray (the late Robert Loggia) and Dr. Brakish Okun (Brent Spiner). Will Smith’s Steve Hiller is dead now (because he signed onto Suicide Squad instead, and we all know how good a decision that turned out to be), but his wife Jasmine (Vivica A. Fox) is still around and now, their son Dylan (Jessie T. Usher) is grown up and is fighting against the aliens alongside President Whitmore’s now grown daughter, Patricia (Maika Monroe) and her fiancé, Jake (Liam Hemsworth).

So, it’s basically the same film as it was 20 years ago, but now, we get a “where are they now” perspective on some of the characters along with it and, to be fair, I do like that most of the cast is back (aside from Smith and, for that matter, Ross Bagley and Mae Whitman, who played Dylan and Patricia in the original, respectively; would it really have been that hard to get them back, too?), but they all just seem tired and uninteresting this time around, and their delivery of the plot exposition and the lighter moments are forced, awkward, desperate and lack the knowing verve that served the first one well (same goes for the new characters, who are mostly just a grab bag of dull stereotypes).  Also, the story lacks the urgency of the first film and stretches itself out too much with its incoherent subplots which, unlike the original, makes the lack of development of the aliens here impossible to ignore or forgive.

You might be thinking, “OK, the plot and characters aren’t great, but the action and destruction will pick up the slack, right?”  Wrong.  Although we do see places like Paris, China and London get annihilated, it lacks the weight, investment in the characters and the surprise that made similar scenes work so well in the original (like the “what about Boomer?” moment here, which was way better in 1996) and, though the special effects for them look OK, they’re all boring and feel like they’re trying to make lighting strike twice which, ironically, only reminds how better they were before and makes them even worse here.   I guess if you loved Independence Day and need to have more of it, this won’t hurt you too much, but that’s far from a ringing endorsement and honestly, why did we need this movie? Was it just to make a quick buck off of our nostalgia and so Emmerich could try and make us forget he made Stonewall? Based on the results, it seems like it, but thankfully, this tanked at the box office so, despite its insultingly presumptuous sequel-baiting, chances are good we won’t see an Independence Day 3 in 2036… or ever.  

 Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children

Tim Burton dodged a bullet by not directing Alice Through The Looking Glass, but that was nullified by him diving directly into the path of another bullet with the movie he did direct this year; Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children. Let’s face facts, people; Burton may have undeniable style and talent and he may have made great films like Batman, Ed Wood and his last masterpiece, the nearly decade-old Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street, but he’s one of the most inconsistent filmmakers who still has a fandom (and, as Dark Shadows and Alice In Wonderland proved, that goodwill is clearly starting to run out) and, as great as his career highlights are, his increasing number of lowlights are often a special form of painful and inexplicable junk that are bad enough to nearly obscure his past successes.  Of the films I’ve seen of Burton’s, I’d be hard-pressed to think of one worse than this ugly, endless, empty, pathetic and incomprehensible disaster that’s both the most obvious sign that Burton’s hit rock bottom and the most unpleasant supposed family-fantasy film since last year’s disastrous Pan.

The movie is based on the Ransom Riggs novel about a Florida teenager named Jake (Asa Butterfield), an isolated recluse whose only true friend seems to be his grandfather Abe (Terrance Stamp), a World War II veteran who told him stories as a youth about a home in Wales for children with unique and societally peculiar traits.  Jake’s father, Franklin (Chris O’Dowd), didn’t like Abe that much doesn’t believe his stories, but Jake kind of does and is more convinced when Abe has his eyes ripped out and is killed by a white-eyed man named Barron (Samuel L. Jackson) that Abe claimed was going to eventually threaten the lives of the children at the home, as well as their shapeshifting and omniscient caretaker, Miss Peregrine (Eva Green).  After being given Abe’s old journal that specifies where Miss Peregrine and the house are located, Jake wants to go to Wales to find it, which his parents reluctantly agree to when Jake’s therapist suggests it could help his mental state after his grandfather’s death.  Franklin accompanies Jake, seeing it as a good opportunity to ditch his grieving son and do some birdwatching for himself (that’s grade A parenting right there), while Jake, against all odds, finds the house and meets both Peregrine and the strange children there, a girl who can control fire, a boy whose body is basically an active beehive, a boy with the power of invisibility, a girl with a carnivorous mouth on the back of her head and, most notably, Emma (Ella Purnell), an air-bender light enough to float away if she doesn’t wear mental boots who remembers Abe and who is drawn to his young grandson.  Jake soon finds out that the house and its inhabitants live in a time loop that keeps repeating the same two days in 1943, as Miss Peregrine keeps turning back the clock just before the house is about to get bombed by German planes, but he also finds out that the warnings of Abe about Barron were true, as Barron and his cronies are seeking the children because their eyeballs help give them immortality when they eat them. As such, Jake leads the children in a battle against Barron to protect them and allow the children to control their use of the time loops to allow them and, by extension, Jake, to have a safe future.

You’d think a story like that would be a slam dunk with Burton at the helm, since it’s packing many of the themes and subject matter that we often associate with his work, including strange/socially ostracized characters with otherworldly abilities, social commentary against bad parenting and the idealized idea of what life in suburbia should be like, and macabre subject matter and imagery with a genesis in German expressionism.  In fact, for that reason alone, I know some defenders of this movie have considered this a “return to form” with echoes of Beetlejuice and especially Edward Scissorhands. However, outside of a few of the supporting performances (Terrance Stamp and Allison Janney) and the film’s technically sound and time period appropriate production design (the latter of which doesn’t really count as a positive, since Burton can do that in his sleep), there’s none of the bizarre intrigue, resonance or joy that we’d expect to get out of a film like this and it all feels so aggressively repellent and uninteresting.  The plot, despite my synopsis, is mostly insultingly incomprehensible babble that overexplains everything while somehow, never making anything about the time loops and twisted antagonists make sense, the characters of Miss Peregrine and the children generally have no personalities or development outside of their one defining trait, the bond between Jake and Emma is empty, poorly developed and awkward (especially their needless and contrived love story, which comes about from Emma transferring her feelings for the young version of Abe onto Jake), the father-son relationship between Jake and Franklin is unbelievable and, at times, rage-including (the horrible, yet one-dimensional and pushy character and Chris O’Dowd’s awful performance as Franklin adds to that) and there are plot holes everywhere.  

I guess the latter is to be expected in a time-travel fantasy movie, but even by its own logic, the time loop material raises big veracity questions, as does the fact that Miss Peregrine somehow is unable to know about specific threats against her and the children, even though Jake and the audience are told by the children that “she knows everything,” even before they happen.  In addition, there’s some really lame and horribly out-of-place stabs at humor (including the beat-boxing punks that’s as much of a tonal whiplash as the licensed songs from Pan), the acting is flat by most everyone involved and the darker elements of the story don’t add anything meaningful to it and come off as just gross and boundary-pushing for the sake of being gross and boundary-pushing, especially the stuff with the eyeball eating, which I had enough of seeing happen once in The Neon Demon this year, let alone multiple times here, and in a movie intended for families, no less (yeah, this being a “family film” is a real joke). If you’re a Burton fan/apologist, you may still want to check this one out, but I don’t think you’ll like it and, for everyone else, watch any of Burton’s good films instead.  Actually, just see any of his other movies, because they’re all better than this, and yes, that does include his now second worst film, Mars Attacks.

 Money Monster

Three months before Hell Or High Water came out and gave us a great drama about the current American economic malaise and the way it can drive people to crime, we had director Jodie Foster’s stab at a similar idea with Money Monster.  I was curious about this one, given big names like George Clooney, Julia Roberts, Giancarlo Esposito and Dominic West in the cast and especially since Foster's past films behind the camera showed her ability to dive into the guts of real-world issues and come out with pretty impressive complexity, clarity and understanding about them, my favorite being her deeply underrated 2011 look at psychological and mental issues in a family and marriage, The Beaver.  Unfortunately, this is just a dull, simplistic, ridiculous, pedantic and slanted political lecture about “income inequality” and how it hurts lower class citizens, but, at best, it’s not smart or interesting enough about it to entertain, help us empathize with and psychologically explore the complexities and situations of said people’s frustrations or change any minds, and at worst, its significant failures and illogical elements unintentionally reveal the significant and fatal fallacies of that entire concept.

George Clooney stars as Lee Gates, the host of the top-rated cable TV financial show, Money Monster, which has him delivering flashy and easily presentable, yet apparently economically in-depth and credible analysis/advice regarding the stock market, company financial patterns and good stock buys (if you’ve ever seen CNBC’s Mad Money, hosted by Jim Cramer, this is basically the exact same thing).  On today’s show, he’s planning to discuss the Ibis corporation, a company that he once called a safe buy, that has now seen its stock price plummet, resulting in the company and its shareholders losing $800 million. Lee is planning on interviewing the company’s CEO, Walt Camby (Dominic West), but he cancels on them, so Lee’s seemingly dedicated studio director, Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts), quickly books Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe), Ibis’s newest CCO.  After the show starts, a strange delivery boy walks onto the stage, pulls a gun on Lee and forces him to put on a bomb vest that the man will detonate live on national TV if Lee and the crew don’t follow his orders, which include them keeping the cameras rolling.  The man, a working-class millennial named Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell), claims that he’s doing this because he saw Lee’s tip about Ibis stock being a good buy, which ultimately resulted in Kyle’s entire life savings being wiped out.  When news of the hostage situation gets out, the police and SWAT team arrive, led by Marcus Powell (Giancarlo Esposito), to try and bring it to a non-lethal conclusion, while Lee follows Kyle’s demands as he and Patty try and think of a way to escape. Meanwhile, after news of the crisis and its connection to Ibis reaches Diane, she begins to dig deeper into what’s really going on in the company, including investigating the algorithms that were claimed to have caused the stock crashed like it did and trying to find and get answers out of Camby, who claims to be on a plane from Geneva and can’t be reached.

So, the movie is a hostage thriller where the social commentary is provided by Kyle, whose argument boils down to the usual lines about how the 1% on Wall Street and in big corporations are able to lazily get rich while screwing good and hard-working people like him who are still struggling to survive on the minimum wage they make.  The first issue with the film’s argument is that, in the world of this movie, the minimum wage that Kyle and others like him make is $14. That’s the same amount that, in the real world, it’s often argued that the minimum wage needs to be raised to in order to allow people like Kyle to have a decent living without having to suffer, but clearly, he still is struggling and he and the movie are still arguing that it’s not enough.  Second, even with Kyle’s plight, I never got enough of a sense that he’s really at the end of his rope or that I could understand his point of view or the desperation that led to him being ready to kill for economic satisfaction and compensation.  Part of this has to do with the script, which, with the exception of a scene where Kyle’s girlfriend, rightly, tells him off for his own bad choices and mismanagement with their money that also played a role in his downfall, blindly deifies Kyle with no pushback on his entitled, elitist and empty self-righteous platitudes (which are just as bad to me as the worst examples of the 1%ers he’s decrying), and the other part has to do with the Razzie-worthy performance by Jack O'Connell, with his embarrassingly mannered speech patterns and expressions (including that eternal gaping) that show him trying way too hard to be authentic, tragic and manic.  As such, I don’t care about Kyle, I don’t side with him and I see him as a black and white eternal victim who, with no gray areas to him here, is just using his stock loss as a scapegoat for his own personal failings.  

As far as Lee, Patty, and the TV crew, aside from the brief opening and some brief and quickly ditched asides about Patty potentially looking for another job, we don’t learn enough about them to get invested in seeing them live or die and, despite this top-flight cast, all of them, including leads Clooney and Roberts, are just OK and lack the crackle that I know they can bring and that director Foster is often good at helping to bring out.  Speaking of the direction, it’s pretty flat and lacks tension, while the action scenes aren’t gripping, the gaps in logic with the show being continually broadcast during the crisis and the attempts at police involvement are too large to ignore and, ultimately, don’t add anything to the story, the film’s portrayal of its Russian and Asian characters is kind of racist and hateful (I guess those are the two ethnic groups you’re still allowed to bigotedly stereotype without any consequence in the movies nowadays), the stabs at feminism with Diane and Patty are rushed through and too on-the-nose.

And then, there’s the tone of the film. It’s clearly supposed to be a mostly serious drama/thriller, but we also get this weird and out of place attempt at humor, which was a terrible miscalculation, as they clash badly with the rest of the film and aren’t funny, the worst of which has to be the sex scene (yeah, I was taken back by that, too) which is the most needless and gratuitous one in recent major movie history.  In the film’s slight defense, it’s not an unwatchable disaster and it is short enough, but given the talent of Foster as a filmmaker in the past, the cast and the great potential of looking at the American economic system with depth and intrigue, while wrapping it in a familiar movie narrative shell, this really should have turned out better than it did and, especially in a year that delivered the definitive example of that concept in Hell Or High Water, the failure of Money Monster is even more obvious and unacceptable.

 Rules Don’t Apply

This long-time passion project of co-writer/director/star Warren Beatty (who last directed a theatrical film with 1998’s Bulworth and last starred in a movie in 2001’s Town & Country) is a hybrid of a Howard Hughes dramatic biopic and a golden age Hollywood-style love triangle romantic comedy… and it’s also the only other 2016 movie aside from The Boss that I gave a 0 star review to. You’d think that would have guaranteed it a spot in to the worst 10 list, but it didn’t for three reasons; first, as horrible as this movie is (and it is), it didn’t anger me quite as much as the other 19 films I highlighted, second, I’ve actually already forgotten about it, despite seeing it less than a month ago, and third, this self-indulgent epitome of Hollywood legend narcissism and talent wasting has already publicly answered for its crimes against cinematic humanity by having the worst opening weekend of any major release in 2016 and becoming a well-deserved box-office flop.  So, yeah, I’m technically showing some mercy to this one, but it’s still such a uniquely uninteresting, terrible and kind of ugly film completely lacking in intrigue, involving story/characters, perspective and even halfway decent filmmaking that I need to deal with it.  

Beatty stars as Howard Hughes, the Hollywood billionaire circa 1958, when his eccentricities, obsession with barely-legal contract starlets and obsessive compulsive disorder were approaching the boiling point.  Enter Marla Mabrey (Lily Collins), a fictionalized religious young woman who comes to Hollywood to attempt to become a movie star under Hughes who is continually given the runaround, as is Hughes’ new limo driver, Frank Forbes (Alden Ehrenreich).  The two fall in love, breaking Hughes’ rule forbidding his contract actresses from dating his other employees, resulting in their strained relationship, especially after Hughes seduces Marla and forms a love-triangle that changes by the minute because of how psychologically messed up Hughes is.  I’ll give the movie this; the idea of taking a larger than life real-world figure like Howard Hughes and connecting his true story to those of fictitious characters isn’t bad and, with Beatty directing it and having such a star-studded cast, including supporting players like Annette Benning, Matthew Broderick, Ed Harris, Candice Bergen, Martin Sheen, Oliver Platt, Paul Sorvino, and Dabney Coleman, this sure sounded good on paper.  

Yet, by making a movie about Howard Hughes, Beatty is directly inviting a comparison with The Aviator, Martin Scorsese’s now seemly forgotten and underrated 2004 film also about Hughes that had the verve, investment and craft that’s completely missing here. True, this movie is telling a different story about Hughes than Scorsese did, but both Beatty the director and Beatty the actor fail to make it even halfway interesting, because the movie pathetically and repetitively keeps hammering us over the head with his crazy nature, while providing no attitude about him at all.  Basically, the film uses Hughes’ condition to justify its abrupt tonal shifts between its empty and surface human drama, its desperate, unfunny and, in terms of mining Hughes’ paranoia for laughs, cruel comedy and its supposedly whimsical moments that are embarrassing at best and, at worst, skin-crawlingly creepy (I’m sorry, but seeing the 27-year-old Lily Collins having sex with the now 79-year-old Beatty, while the movie has no perspective about it, just made me feel dirty). Regarding the fictional characters, Frank and Marla’s relationship totally lacks chemistry, passion or plausibility and their bonds to Hughes only mean that they constantly have the same shocked and/or disgusted reaction shots to him and his exploits, none of which are funny and none of which work as interesting or credible drama, especially when they still stand by Hughes when he completely goes off the deep end.

The film’s story and character development issues also aren’t helped by perhaps the year’s worst editing (scenes just randomly and abruptly stop before shifting to the next), the glacial pacing that makes the over 2 hour running time feel like an eternity, the overdone low-key lighting, the horrible plane CG/special effects, some pretty obvious discrepancies regarding the time period and the religious angle of Marla and her mother (they’re Baptist, but they say grace in one scene using "Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we're about to receive from thy bounty," which is a Catholic prayer; oops) and the really flat performances from this totally wasted cast.   Seriously, there’s not one single redeemable aspect about this movie to even justify it as an eventual video rental or Netflix watch, so do what most everyone else did regarding it in theaters, completely ignore it, watch The Aviator and, then, forget this ever came out.

OK, it’s time for my annual surveys of the best and worst movies of the year and, for 2015, I’m starting with the negative stuff.  As I’ll say with the best movies of the year, the strength of those were enough to outweigh the junk I saw last year, but even so, that didn’t make the awful films any easier to endure.  Even worse, a bunch of the worst movies of the year are ones that people either liked, gave a pity pass to or both, meaning that I had to stand almost alone in many situations to make my case against them, which is hard, but it’s something I have to do and I think I’m at least passable at giving legitimate and understandable dissenting opinions.  

Like I will with the best of the year, I have the 10 worst and the next 10 worst from a bench of the films released in 2015 that I saw.  There were movies I missed this year that had horrible reputations, such as Alvin & The Chipmunks: The Road Chip, Rock The Kasbah, Jupiter Ascending, Strange Magic, Mordecai, Unfinished Business, Vacation, Jem And The Holograms, Hot Tub Time Machine 2 and Stonewall so, if you’re wondering why they’re not on here, that’s why.  

Then again, if you’re asking where Paul Blart Mall Cop 2 is, I did see it, but it’s not on this list (and that includes my 11-20). Why? Because it’s not bad enough to make a worst of the year list in my eyes. To some people, that sounds like an insane statement, but then again, I’m going to guess that was the only bad movie they saw last year because, if they saw all of the 20 films that I’m highlighting and that I had to suffer through, they’d consider themselves lucky to have seen that mediocre film, because they’d gain one hell of a perspective on what truly awful cinema from 2015 looks like.  Speaking of which, let’s start the countdown of pain:

1.      Pitch Perfect 2

This sequel to the hit 2012 film about a group of college female a capella singers came out the same day Mad Max: Fury Road did and wow, talk about going “from one to another extreme.”  Both are follow-ups to films I’ve never seen, but Fury Road was a film that, despite my lack of knowledge of the previous movies, hooked me immediately and sent my spirits up to the stratosphere with how joyous, exhilarating, ambitious and wonderful an example it was of everything that makes me love movies. The day after I saw George Miller’s cinematic triumph, I watched Pitch Perfect 2 and, about 2 hours later, I came out feeling furious, completely miserable and as if the movies, which blessed me so much less than 24 hours earlier, had stabbed me in the back with this terribly made and painful effort.  I also felt American society had stabbed me in the back, because, along with being not entertaining in the slightest, this film is a noxious ball that represents everything that’s wrong with it, which is the only reason a movie this irredeemably reprehensible, cynical, vacuous and I’d say, societally dangerous could exist and somehow, become a box-office hit that got held up as a great social victory, namely, on a feministic level, despite it trafficking in the exact same vileness that social justice warriors always lecture us about (apparently, the far more female-positive Fury Road didn’t count because a man made it, and don’t worry; I’ll get into that later, because this one’s asking for it).  

The film’s plot, like the original Pitch Perfect apparently, follows The Bellas, an all-female a capella group that have been three-time college a capella champions. Given their popularity, they perform as part of a televised birthday gala for President Obama (who shows up as himself and, given that the movie exudes the hatred it does and how he often he personally speaks out against it, his appearance here suggests implicit support of what he criticizes and, thus, really gross hypocrisy), but their performance goes disastrously awry when Fat Amy (Rebel Wilson) accidentally rips her outfit and exposes her nether regions, causing a major national scandal that results in The Bellas being suspended from the a capella association.  Beca (Anna Kendrick) cuts a deal with the homophobic announcers and apparent heads of the association (John Michael Higgins and Elizabeth Banks) to let them back in if she and The Bellas can win the world championships in Copenhagen, but that really puts the pressure on, because the Americans have never won that honor before and a German group named Das Sound Machine begins taking their thunder away and positioning themselves as The Bellas’ main rivals.  Also, the once unbreakable Bellas begin drifting apart, due to internal drama (most of it from Fat Amy), relationship problems (again, most of it from Fat Amy) and Beca’s post-college aspirations (stemming from her secret intern job), while the group also gains a new member named Emily Junk (Hailee Steinfeld), whose mother was in The Bellas as a girl and who shows a knack for original music compositions (which is apparently, an immortal sin in a capella, an irrational attitude that, not counting the film’s outlook on Emily, also might explain why it gives her a last name of “Junk”).  

Yeah, we’ve been down this narrative road before (so chances are you’ll be able to tell how all of it will play out really quickly) and apparently, according to people I talked to who saw the first film, many of the same elements of conflict here are copy-pasted from that one.  Sounds pretty lazy (almost like a repeat of The Hangover Part 2, another creatively bankrupt sequel that, like this movie, also earned my wrath as the worst movie of its release year), but then again, I didn’t see the first one (and, as Fury Road proved, I shouldn’t need to have seen it in order to like this) and if this was just a familiar and vapid comedy/drama with an underlying “girl-power” message and a few decent laughs or involvement with the characters, I’d likely not be saying the harsh things I’m going to say about it.  However, along with being familiar and vapid, the movie is not funny or interesting at any point and is also relentlessly vulgar, hateful, shaming, homophobic, sexist, racist, ageist, sizeist and basically any other “ist” that exists or has yet to be invented.

The film assumes we have some kind of affection for The Bellas, but I have no care whatsoever for any of them, because of their lack of personalities and defining traits.  Almost all of them are whiny, inane and entitled people who are complaining about things that really don’t matter (and the movie isn’t able to make me find their dilemmas important).  Honestly, the only way you can tell them apart is because of their bigoted “ethnic” and sexist “feminine” traits, what with the one Asian girl who’s almost completely mute and moves around with no one knowing where she’ll pop up (like a ninja), the sassy Black lesbian, the Hispanic girl who constantly talks about her harrowing illegal border crossing and fears of being deported (which the movie brushes aside and basically plays as comedy, but in a condescending and mean way with nothing inherently funny or satirical about it) and, of course, Fat Amy, whose obesity and sexual promiscuity are hammered home and mocked endlessly.  The only two characters I could discern were Beca and Emily, due to the former’s desire for remixing and the latter wanting to share her unique songs to the world, but even then, they seem like pretty, yet empty cyphers whose first world problems aren’t developed well enough to gain my rooting interest for either them or their desires.

Even though I wasn’t invested in the story arcs of Beca and Emily, I was really offended by the movie’s attitude towards them wanting follow their dreams, which is, that they’re despicable and selfish people who should follow the conformist crowd of The Bellas with their interchangeable characteristics. Yet, even that terrible message is argued and supported with totally hypocritical and nonsensical ideas.  Beca is chided by her so-called friends, who say she should be dedicating her life to lead The Bellas and that she’s selfish for hiding her job from everyone else but then, ludicrously, after she gets in with a record executive after doing an admittingly nice remix on a Christmas album by Snoop Lion, she’s told that she needs original material.  OK, fine, maybe the record company doesn’t want that, but why can’t Beca push to do music mash-ups? There’s a pretty big market out there for remixes, especially in the DJ world and for a movie that claims to know everything about the world of music (and the a capella/vocalizing culture and mindset), it’s baffling and inexcusable that this avenue isn’t explored.  Even worse is the movie’s treatment of Emily; she has many interesting ideas regarding music, but she’s shy and, thus, hides her talents away and what happens when she becomes comfortable enough to reveal them?  In that scene at the private sing-off contest, she’s literally called “a horrible person” by David Cross’s character for her originality and she’s cruelly shamed by everyone there, including her fellow Bellas.  

Wait, this is supposed to be a positive film for women, isn’t it?  Those are horrible notions to be putting out there, especially in a film aimed it at younger women.  What terrible man could have possibly written and directed a movie that says such sexist things?  Kay Cannon and Elizabeth Banks… wait a minute, they’re women.  I guess that explains why no one’s had the guts to call this movie out, because it must sound really bad to criticize women in creative positions like these (given the generally fewer female filmmakers out there), but to me, that makes it worse than if a man made it, especially because Cannon and Banks seem like people who push the idea of advancing female empowerment and then, take an opportunity that many aspiring women filmmakers would kill for to put out this lazy, offensive and regressive piece of garbage while still insisting they’re cinematic feminists who are making a strong pro-female statement here.  

Well, they’re not, and putting aside how repulsive the movie is, neither they, nor the actors, are able to make this fun or funny, even on a trashy “turn off your sense of taste and common decency” level.  The film, again, has no interest in its characters outside of nigh-endless quips and hateful stereotyping, the actors have no chemistry here and turn in awful and degrading performances and the singing scenes, which should be a highlight in a movie about singers, stop the film dead in its tracks and aren’t particularly interesting or well sung, even by the people who’ve shown that talent before (like Anna Kendrick, far better served by last year’s Into The Woods, and Hallie Steinfeld, who was in last year’s 9th best film, Begin Again, a far better music-themed movie where she basically played a better realized version of her character here).  

As far as director Elizabeth Banks is considered, I’m going to be as nice as I can in saying this; this woman cannot direct.  She’s a great actress for sure (in 2015, Love & Mercy proved that), but between this and her Middleschool Date short from Movie 43 (you know, the one where Naomi Watts and Liev Schreiber cruelly and, in the case of their incestual ideas, perhaps illegally, hazed their homeschooled son), it’s clear that she has no idea how to set up a scene, how to end a scene, how to direct actors, how to maintain/adjust pacing, how to maintain a tone (or switch between them, for that matter), how to deliver a joke or how to make a movie that doesn’t make me feel unclean in one form or another. Then again, that didn’t stop someone from giving her the reins to make Pitch Perfect 3 and both that, as well as the fact that this atrocity is getting a sequel, makes me weep openly in between my utterances of rage that this is what passes for mass cinematic entertainment nowadays, and those who justify it are part of the problem.

2.      Fifty Shades Of Grey                  

Yeah, having the film based on Fifty Shades Of Grey on this list sounds like it’s too easy, but in actuality, I did go into this with an open mind.  I never read the both highly popular and highly despised E.L James novel that this movie’s based on, but heard many stories about its seamy sadomasochism subject material, dominant and submissive relationship between its two lead characters and all the sex and nudity that went with it and was curious to see what the fuss was about.  Was it trashy fun that would result in a guilty pleasure B-movie?  Perhaps, because of the inherently different medium of movies, would it elevate the book’s material to have something meaningful to say about its topics, especially given that, like the book, we have a female perspective here via the director and screenwriter?  Or was it really just glorified pornography that both trashed the BDSM fetish lifestyle and horribly trivialized abusive relationships? It turned out to be latter, which shouldn’t be surprising given that it’s on a worst of the year list, but I was quite shocked at just how odious, disturbing, intellectually dishonest, meaningless and slapped together Fifty Shades Of Grey was, to the point where I think that calling it glorified pornography is a massive insult to pornography, and I am dead serious when I say that.

Dakota Johnson stars as Anastasia Steele, or Ana, for short, a meek and virginal college student majoring in English literature.  Her roommate, Kate, also has an interest in writing and scored an interview for the college newspaper with the local hot-shot young business tycoon Christian Grey, played by Jamie Dornan.  Kate gets sick and can’t make the interview and, instead of cancelling (probably because she has a stock line of dialogue saying that the interview took years to set up and can’t possibly be rescheduled), Ana goes in her stead.  Despite Ana slipping up all over the place in the interview, Christian shows interest in Ana and, after stalking, I mean, visiting her at her place of work, doing a photo shoot for the newspaper article and floating the idea that he’s single, but that she shouldn’t go out with him, so does she, enough so that she, completely out of character, gets drunk one night, drunk-dials Christian out of the blue and then passes out, resulting in Christian coming to get her and taking her to his place.  At that point, both Christian and Ana admit their interest in each other and they enter a relationship, but with a massive catch.  It’s not actually a romantic relationship, so much as an agreement that Christian requires Ana to legally sign a non-disclosure agreement for, resulting in her having to move in with him and indulge in his sexual/bondage fetishes, while in return, she’s treated to the high-life with lavish gifts and the concept of a romantic relationship without the romance part (and given how Christian lured Ana into interest in him before, that also makes her want romance with him more, even as the depths of Christian’s past trauma and resulting depravity are slowly revealed).

That story sounds pretty seedy on the surface, but hey, it could have been turned into something interesting.  I mean, when you have a movie with stuff like BDSM, sexual addiction, relationships blurring the line between abusive and loving, history of statutory rape (at the very least, there’s an angle of that with Christian, though it’s not completely clear) and the idea of a woman discovering and standing up for herself amidst all those things, there’s a lot to work with and, given that this was written by Kelly Marcel and directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson, both women, you’d hope this would stand out, especially because there’s a lack of women making movies and, in this case, a female perspective on these topics, especially the abuse and self-empowerment angles, might be enlightening (and indeed, a film like Waitress from 2007 expertly proved that through its exploration of those two themes).  Some may say that the book was so badly written that the movie couldn’t possibly transcend it, but remember; books aren’t movies (and vice versa) and, in a movie, there’s a lot that the filmmaking and acting alone can do to introduce psychological understanding and become invested in the material and the characters, while not irresponsibly glorifying the horrifying undertones and while simultaneously giving the audience a fun and sexy time at the movies (Steven Shainberg’s excellent Secretary explored many similar topics quite well, and its male lead character also had Grey as his last name).

This film, however, completely and offensively squanders every one of its opportunities to give the audience any perspective or unique insight into its subject material or characters, as it’s only interested in them through its tawdry, perspective-free, badly written, badly directed, draggy and very repetitive story, which uses attractive looking actors who were clearly hired for their looks over anything else needed to make us believe them as Ana and Christian.  Jamie Dornan is flat, insincere, wooden and, in the emotional scenes, embarrassingly pouty as Christian and Dakota Johnson is even worse as Ana, with her unbelievably awkward attempts to play up the nervous virgin stereotype (she bites her lip all the time, likely to signify her hidden sexuality, but it’s just painful to watch), her pushy and nigh-laughable emoting and her inability in a few scenes to even read her lines without tripping over them. There are some supporting roles here, provided by Jennifer Ehle and, shockingly, Marcia Gay Harden, but they’re empty and embarrassing, too and, like the main characters and the plot, they’re used as a clothesline to get to the next flashy looking, but sterile and painful scene showing Ana and/or Christian’s emotional anguish, their back and forth of how they want their relationship to be (with Christian often winning the argument, thus causing more anguish to Ana), the sequel-bait of an ending and, of course, the multitude of sex scenes, often making use of the “toys,” if you will, in Christian’s “playroom.”

Speaking of which, those erotic scenes were the big story about the book and in the lead up to this movie’s release, especially given the BDSM fetish angle, but in the film’s case, that build-up was not earned.  Because of the heavy subject matter that frames those scenes and the film’s complete refusal to deliver the human drama in a way that would have made the sex mean something (even by way of giving a view into the characters’ psychological mindsets in relation to it), the sex scenes come off as leering, unmotivated, ugly, highly judgmental and trashy about the idea of sadomasochism (at least as far as the kink itself is concerned; the characters, as portrayed here, deserve to be judged for who they are for other reasons) and just not interesting.  On the dramatic level, we have no reason to care about all the sex and nudity, let alone be aroused by it, but even if the movie’s just trying to be higher class and more societally acceptable porn, it can’t even do that right, because those scenes are poorly shot, poorly lit, really choppy in how they’re edited and punctuated by pushy, intrusive and on-the-nose music, the latter provided via Danny Elfman’s awful score and a couple of licensed tunes, including that head-shakingly obvious and lazy usage of The Rolling Stones’ Beast Of Burden to highlight Ana’s first time.  

Honestly, if porn is what you’re after, I’d recommend actual porn over this, especially since a good amount of it has more worth, eroticism, craft and intellectual honesty put into it than this. And it’s not just a men’s club, because you have women creatively involved in making more meaningful work there, too, like Tristian Taormino, who’s used her massive background in sexual studies and workshops to direct instructional videos related to sex, relationships and S&M and who, it’s worth pointing out, came down really hard on this picture (and the book) for its backward attitudes, cynicism and its unwillingness to encapsulate the appeal and various thought processes related to those topics.  Yeah, even pornographers want to keep their distance from Fifty Shades Of Grey; that should tell you everything and I do not blame them for one second.  

3.      The Big Short

This is something of a last minute addition to this worst of essay and I’m really shocked that I’m having it here at all, let alone it being this high on my list.  You see, I was told that The Big Short was a really good movie and it had quite a pedigree behind it, to boot.  The film is an adaptation of the book of the same name that tells the true story of four men in the financial industry who saw the writing on the wall for the 2008 economic collapse three years ahead of time. To get revenge on the banks and on corporate greed in general, the men invested tons of money in shorting the banks, that is, making offers with them that were basically buying into the idea of the banks failing, resulting in the banks, not seeing what the men saw, but seeing an easy profit in their “insane” investments, played along until they and the economy were wiped out.  The novel was written by Michael Lewis, who also wrote Moneyball: The Art Of Winning An Unfair Game, which was turned into a great 2011 film that also mixed a real-world event with the idea of turning a culture on its ear via a statistical numbers game and given that, as well as a cast that includes Ryan Gosling, Brad Pitt (who was also in Moneyball), Steve Carrell, Christian Bale and Marisa Tomei, among others, The Big Short should have been an enlightening, intriguing and rage-inducing comedy/drama based on such a recent and wide-reaching event.  Well, this movie did enrage me, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in the way the movie wanted me to get mad, unless in some bizarre way, this movie being such an unbelievably smug, hypocritical, contemptuous, completely uninteresting, terribly constructed and painful to watch effort was intentional.

The film follows the four men, Michael Burry (Christian Bale), Jared Vennett (Ryan Gosling), Ben Rickert (Brad Pitt) and Mark Baum (Steve Carrell), across a group of parallel stories starting in 2005 that shows how each of them come to the realization that the US economy is heading towards disaster and how they then take advantage of it, both to make a point and to profit from it. Burry’s a former physician turned hedge-fund manager who’s the first to notice the impeding collapse and uses his autonomy within his company, Scion Capital, to invest in the banks while explicitly expressing his prediction of a crash of the housing market. From there, a domino effect begins as Vennett, who works for Deutschebank, sees Burry’s method and buys into it, which in turn catches the attention of Baum from Morgan Stanley, a psychologically damaged man who loves his work in the industry but loves the idea of railing against and taking action against corruption within the system even more, resulting in him and his team allying with Vennett. As they go, Baum and Vannett discover the banks taking sub-prime mortgages and, with the assistance of bond agencies, repackaging them to customers as secure investments that they’re actually the furthest thing from being.  Rickert, on the other hand, is a retired investment banker who’s brought back into the fold by Charlie Geller and Jamie Shipley, two men who own a small start-up company and want in on Vennett’s, but technically, Burry’s, shorting scheme.  

So, basically, these guys are betting against the economy so that the banks collapse and, as a result, they get rich for the once seemingly “insane” investments they made and millions of innocent investors and the big, bad financial institutions lose their shirts and, on the way to this happening, the men see the depth of the banks’ corruption and how it was surpassing even their initial ideas of it. Now, you may be saying to yourself, “what these guys were doing sounds exactly like what the banks did, especially with how it ended up making them rich at the expense and suffering of others; how are they any different or worthy of our sympathy/respect than the banks?” The movie seems to be arguing that these guys are preferable because they actually feel bad about what they’re doing and the damage it’ll cause, even though those conflicting thoughts enter their minds for about 20 seconds before they then proceed to cause that damage anyway with no qualms or regrets.  So, the film is rationalizing these guys on that basis, but I say that’s a false equivalence, because, at their core, these guys and the banks are no different whatsoever.  Even worse, the movie shows no interest in exploring that potentially interesting, complex and ironic dichotomy, as it just argues that that they were heroes while thinking that that, because there’s a quick line of dialogue or two that shows them as human about what they’re doing, that automatically absolves them.  Not only is that outlook offensive and hypocritical, but it also ruins the credibility and arcs of these characters, especially Baum who, despite being the most conflicted about everything, makes the personal decision that closes the movie, which ends up flying in the face of the “inside crusader standing up for the everyman” that he was set-up to be.

So these guys are unbelievably insulting, cheap and two-faced, but I guess that makes sense because those things are also what the movie itself is.   I said that this film was billing itself as a comedy/drama, but it’s clearly more on the side of being a serious character study of these men, their crusade and the damage the collapse will have on innocent people (as I said before, though, the movie wants us to ignore that these guys are directly responsible for some of that damage).  The comedic side comes in from the attempts to be satirical about the crisis and the absurdity of how complex the financial world is with all its backwards terms and schemes, the latter of which helped lead to the collapse.  If that balance was effective and funny, that would have been one thing, but this movie has no clue how to effectively bounce between the heavy drama and humor, resulting in a generally serious effort that’s intrusively interrupted by its out-of-nowhere and aggravating direct-to-the-camera addresses telling us how, even though this is based on a true story, “this isn’t exactly what happened here” or, at times, is completely stopped to jokingly explain the meaning of some (but not all) of the complex financial jargon being thrown out.  As far as the humor itself is concerned, it consists of pathetic, lazy and unfunny cheap shots that wouldn’t pass muster in a bad Saturday Night Live sketch or the aforementioned terminology explanations that, again, stop the movie by bringing in a famous celebrity to tell us what they mean, resulting in scenes that think they’re being funny and cutting, but actually lack any humor and are not satirical as much as they’re directly insulting the audience the film claims to care about.   That’s made obvious in the first of these scenes, where Margo Robbie is naked in a bubble bath explaining what a sub-prime mortgage is using the most condescendingly simplistic parallels and then, literally tells the audience to “f*** off.”  I’m sorry, but that’s not funny and, like all of the worst fourth-wall breaking tactics I see in movies, it’s totally smug and unearned.

OK, so this movie fails in its comedic intentions, but what about its drama? Well, it’s terrible, too, because the film is insanely repetitive in looking at its subjects’ escalating their scheme, being increasingly shocked about the corruption going on underneath and, especially in the case of Baum, hearing their histrionic and jargon-heavy speeches about both before the aforementioned third-act cop out.  Also, the subplots introduced to give more depth to these characters end up going nowhere and meaning nothing, particularly the stuff with Baum’s wife worried about her husband (she’s played by Marisa Tomei and my God, is she and her talent wasted here) and Baum’s anguish over the death of his brother, and not even the strong cast can elevate things, as all of the performers are insanely mannered, irritating and repetitive in their natures (even Steve Carrell, who fares best here, but even his spiel gets old quickly).  As such, I completely lost interest in every character and every plot point in this movie early on, meaning every scene basically went in my mind and immediately out of it and, with no investment in the movie, my mind wandered towards contemplating walking out (I never do that and didn’t here, but man, I was really tempted) and made enduring the film’s 130-minute running time torturous.

Further adding to my dismay is the direction of Adam McKay, who gives us on-the-nose music to tell us how to feel (both of the musical score and the licensed song variety), terrible pacing, scene cuts that occur in the middle of characters’ sentences, the application of tonally schizophrenic and distracting sound effects for no good reason and, as I said before, the awful balancing of its differing tones that shows that, regarding his attempts to simultaneously look at the financial crisis as farce and tragedy, McKay really wants to have his cake and eat it, too.  Then again, that’s seemingly what McKay does, as he’s shown in his earlier bloated, dishonestly hedge-betting and terrible comedies like Step Brothers and, yes, both of the Anchorman films. So yeah, I despised this movie, to the point where I almost wonder if I’m overreacting to it, but it made it me so upset and was such a massively uninteresting, hypocritical and excruciating experience that I still think it needed to be dealt with here, even if I’m likely going to end up in the minority opinion on it (kind of like McKay’s other movies, now that I think about it). To me, though, I think you should avoid this disaster and rent Inside Job, Charles Ferguson’s Oscar-winning 2010 documentary about the same surrounding real-life subject that’s infinitely better.

4.      Aloha

I can think of many gifted directors who fell on hard times with their 2015 efforts, but my God, none of them hit rock bottom quite the way that Cameron Crowe did with Aloha.  This was a shock to me, given the massive amount of talent on display here and also because I, surprisingly, didn’t hear of the behind the scenes drama that was all over the place with this one, most of it related to the December 2014 hack of distributor Sony.  But you see, I try to avoid the pre-release gossip behind movies when I can and, to me, just hearing that we were getting a new movie from the writer/director of Say Anything, Jerry Maguire and the great Almost Famous that starred people like Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, Bill Murray and Alec Baldwin was more than enough to have me gladly buying a full price ticket on opening day. On the way out, though, I was the furthest thing from glad, to the point where my frustrated and disgusted muttering over this incomprehensible, self-satisfied, unbelievable and inconsistent mess actually caught the ears of a passing movie theater employee, who then asked if I was OK.  Thus, he was the first person I warned away from Aloha and, given how badly it flopped, it’s likely he took my advice and that you did, too, but now, I get to dive deeper into exactly why, though it’s not 2015’s worst film overall, on the level of wasted talent alone, it may very well be.

I’m going to explain the plot to this, which is surprisingly really hard to do because, on the surface, it sounds pretty easy to follow.  Brian Gilcrest (Bradley Cooper) is an ex-Air Force officer from Hawaii who left the fold to become a military contractor, which quite literally blew up in his face during a job in Kabul.  Anyway, he returns to Hawaii with an opportunity to get involved again in the Air Force game, particularly regarding strategic operations and the technology related to weapons, and also finds himself in a position to reconnect with his old friend, Lacy (Danny McBride), the resentful General Dixon (Alec Baldwin) and surprisingly, his ex-girlfriend, Tracy (Rachel McAdams), who’s now married with children to Brain’s current pilot, the mute John Woodside (John Krasinski).  Meanwhile, Brain’s Air Force liaison, Allison Ng (Emma Stone) shows him the ropes, while forming a bond with him, while Brain’s old billionaire contractor boss, Carson Welch (Bill Murray) returns and wants his help for a new job.  So, Brian’s loyalty and morality is put to the test, but then things go deeper with the thing with the missile program, a Hawaiian land deal that somehow the Air Force is involved in and that somehow, he could screw up, his past life relating to how his relationship with Tracy went south and how maybe he still has feelings for her, even with his affection for Allison growing and there’s still more backstory and plot threads that I’m not discussing, either because they’d constitute spoilers, I’d get tired just thinking of them or I just can’t keep them straight.

Listen, I’m all for a movie giving more than what audiences expect and giving it extra scope and depth, especially because Crowe has shown himself in the past to be quite good at doing that, but there’s too much here and, though I might have made it sound cohesive, most of this film is totally incomprehensible.  There was talk that this movie was edited to hell after the Sony hack and after a disastrous pre-screening not unlike the world premiere of Crowe’s Elizabethtown (which I didn’t see) at the 2005 Toronto Film Festival, which I guess explains why this film is so unbelievably muddled, but even when the movie does make sense, nothing and no one here got me invested, and the film’s look at the Air Force, defense contracting and Hawaiian land trade cultures are insultingly simplistic, preachy and uninteresting. Oh, the Air Force only cares about their sterling reputation and bottom line, oh, the contractors are heartless savages and oh, the Hawaiian leaders are stereotypically wise, omniscient and level-headed about everything (despite us not learning much about them, outside of one boring scene). I’d be willing to put up with all of that if there was rooting interesting and some good insights, drama and/or comedy to go with it, but without those things, those are just tired and lazy elements that are aggravating to witness.

Also aggravating to witness is the terrible acting and complete lack of involving or authentic character development coming out of this top-flight cast.  Bradley Cooper is shockingly flat and dull as Brian and, with the exception of a short scene where he opens himself to Allison during a mountain trek, I never felt like I was watching a believable or interesting human being, which is a pretty big issue when you consider that he’s the main protagonist here. I also didn’t buy his relationships with Allison or Tracy; Emma Stone as the former is pushy and gratingly eccentric (both of those are common traits with all of Stone’s bad performances, of which this is another one of many), Rachel McAdams as the latter is sickeningly immature, selfish, pouty and pushy to a Razzie-worthy degree, both actresses and Cooper have no chemistry and their dilemmas are based entirely out of their idiotic and one-note movie behavior that, again, is completely inauthentic, even though the movie is trying to act as if it’s deep and smart. As far as the supporting players, Danny McBride is an actor whose thespian gifts have eluded me and they continue to do so here, John Krasinski as the mute John is tiresome and not interesting, Alec Baldwin is over the top and wasted, Jaeden Lieberher is playing the stock child actor in what’s actually a comedown from his comparatively stronger role in last year’s execrable St. Vincent, and speaking of last year’s 2nd worst film, we also have Bill Murray, once again slumming it in a nothing role as Carson, which shows just how bad he’s become at picking projects, despite his famous desire to only pick out roles that are worthy of him and his talents (and honestly, despite his talent, Murray really hasn’t been showing it much recently, and once again, he doesn’t here).

Furthermore, Crowe’s direction is confused, disjointed and choppy, his dialogue all rings false, the major plot points occur, reverse in fortune or resolve themselves unbelievably abruptly, making them meaningless, there are no laughs at all, the pacing is slow, the ending is embarrassing and the film gives off a pungent aroma of self-importance that actually makes it worse than if it were just trying and be an escapist and crowd-pleasing comedy/drama mix. The only good part, aside from that scene with Bradley Cooper on the mountain, is that weirdly intriguing scene where Murray and Stone dance to Hall & Oates’ I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do), but it’s not at all plot related and it’s not worth it alone, especially when 10 bucks says that scene’s likely now on Youtube to see for free.  As far as films of Cameron Crowe’s to pay to see, you should do so with any other one over Aloha (or do what I did after this tripe; start a three picture regimen of Say Anything, Jerry Maguire and Almost Famous; it worked nicely for me).

5.      Hot Pursuit

On my best of the year list, I’m going to celebrate The Intern as one of my 11-20 selections for taking what sounded like a dumb sitcom premise and giving it great level of authenticity, humanity and humor, while excoriating the idea that too many other films don’t provide those things because they think they’re not needed.  Hot Pursuit is one of those “too many other films” and it’s probably the worst and most offensive example of the glorified sitcom movie that I’ve seen in a long time. Actually, it’s insulting for me to say it’s a “glorified sitcom,” because even the worst sitcoms I’ve watched on TV put in more effort to be the effectively light and breezy fare that this one would like to be viewed as. Also, this film’s director, Anne Fletcher, has shown past ability to do just that decently with The Proposal.  Then again, that film might have been a fluke, as she also made my worst film of 2008, the cynical, lazy, unfunny, shrill, offensive and soul-crushing 27 Dresses, and now, she’s made Hot Pursuit, which is all of those things and is shockingly, an even worse film than 27 Dresses.  Even Paul Blart Mall Cop 2 was better than this and to all of you who screamed in pain over that one and are still mad that it’s not on my worst of list, I’ll bet you missed this one and thus, may not know what cinematic comedy pain really is.  

This is one of those ethnic mismatch buddy comedies we saw a lot of back in the 80s and 90s, starring Reese Witherspoon as Rose Cooper, an insanely uptight, intense and particular San Antonio desk cop who, after years of department ridicule following an embarrassing taser incident, is allowed back in the field to assist in escorting Sofia Vergara’s Colombian fashionista, Daniella Riva, to a court date to testify against the ruthless drug kingpin, Vicente Cortez. Things become harder when both Rose’s partner and Daniella’s husband are killed in an ambush and the two have to race through the south to avoid the same fate and arrive at the court alive. All the while, wacky hijinks ensue due to the ethnic differences between them, the people they meet (including potential love interests) and the fact that, as you’d likely expect from a film like this, these two women from different social classes and walks of life start to kind of grow closer, despite them constantly yelling at each other and expressing their disdain for one another.  Too bad all of that doesn’t result in a single laugh or moment of interest in (or respect of) the movie.

To be fair, I had pretty low expectations for this movie going in, based on the trailers (yet, I still paid money for this; man, the things I do for you readers as an amateur/avid film critic/filmgoer), but I was at least hoping, given the actors, that there would be something worthwhile here, even if it was just one scene. Well, I didn’t even find one second of this movie that was funny or interesting, because this entire movie is lazily cobbled together from tired clichés that have been done far better many times before, resulting in a film where the characters are dumb, unlikable and have no chemistry, where every joke is hammered home by meaningless noise (screaming jokes doesn’t automatically make them funny, people) or obvious telegraphing far before the punchline hits/fails and where, even on its own terms, the story doesn’t make any rational sense.  Again, I know this is supposed to be an airy exercise, but there’s needs to be some plausibility here, even if it’s just one intelligent decision (such as going back to Rose’s station for assistance) or an acknowledgement of how insane it all is (The Proposal did that well, with Sandra Bullock’s character constantly saying to Ryan Reynolds how their attempts to act like an engaged couple are never going to convince people the way they try to do it; why couldn’t this one do that?).

Also, for a movie that’s supposed to be so light in tone, there’s a lot of really ugly, stereotypical and offensive subject matter here that brings it down or worse, is played for laughs with no attitude or thought behind it whatsoever. This isn’t like The Heat, a near-miss, but far better recent female cop-buddy movie that also went in darker directions that sometimes didn’t work, but at least it seemed like that movie thought about what it was doing beforehand (and it was also funny and interesting). The stuff here about crooked cops (resulting in a really lazy and nonsensical plot revelation), characters murdered and/or threatened with murder, endless sexist jokes about women on their periods or obsessions with fashion/men and, of course, the Columbian drug cartel characters, who are all murderous monsters and/or stereotypically brash, are all put out with no thought or motivation behind them.  Also, for some of these things, there’s nothing inherently funny about them, and that this movie is trying to find them humorous on a base level is appalling and baffling.  The best example of this is when Rose has to tell Daniella that her husband was shot to death, which results in Daniella literally screaming in agony as the camera shows us her wailing face as her head is hanging out the window of their getaway car.  That’s the only angle that this scene has; that this traumatized woman learns her beloved husband was murdered and she emotionally breaks down.  That’s not funny; that’s horrible. For that, and every other failed and/or sick joke, what were writers John Quaintance and David Feeney thinking (or for that matter, why didn’t director Anne Fletcher demand a rewrite)?!

Also, what did stars Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara think of that? Witherspoon herself executive produced this; was this what she paid for and is this something she’s proud of, especially coming off of executive producing and starring in last year’s wonderful Wild? She ought to be ashamed of herself, especially given how frantically one-note, unlikable, degrading and horrible her performance here is as Rose (which is shocking, given that Witherspoon has shown comedic talent in films like Election and the Legally Blonde films). Same goes for Vergara, who’s also shrill, annoying and has frequent changes in character motivation that come out of nowhere and don’t make her character funny or even the least bit likeable or interesting. At the end of this, Witherspoon and Vergara star in a bunch of outtakes over the credits, which are also not funny, but shows us that, apparently, they had fun making this together.  Given how Hot Pursuit turned out, it looks more to me that they had a fun cashing a paycheck together, while I and other people had to pay money to not have a good time; what a disgrace and insult.

6.      Chappie

I said how the mighty had fallen this year for Cameron Crowe with Aloha and apparently, that also applied to Neill Blomkamp.  You see, in 2009, he made District 9, a well-received apartheid parable with segregated aliens that was Oscar-nominated for Best Picture and in 2013, he made Elysium, a not as well-received national healthcare parable about migration to another planet.  Yes, as a friend of mine once said, “Neill Blomkamp is not subtle,” but I can’t say if that’s true or not overall, as I didn’t see those aforementioned films. However, I did see Chappie and, in the case of it, that’s probably true, given that it seems to be a metaphor about unconventional families and child abuse with the titular robot at the center.  If that’s all the film was, that could have worked and, based on the initial trailers that played up Chappie’s child-like innocence and wonder, this had potential to be poignant mix of science fiction and social drama. However, this movie ended up being a really ugly, vulgar and cruel piece of business and, despite its intentions (or maybe because of them), a self-indulgent, sanctimonious and hypocritical misfire.

The film is set in Johannesburg in what seems to be the modern day of the near future, where the once outrageously high crime rate has been dramatically cut down by the local police and their utilization of crime fighting robots.  The robots were provided by the Tetravaal Corporation, owned by Michelle Bradley (Sigourney Weaver), and they were designed by Deon Wilson (Dev Patel), a gifted engineer with a desire for designing even greater advances in robotics for society.  On the back of his current success, Deon thinks he’s made another breakthrough, as he’s developed an Artificial Intelligence that mimics human development and behavior but, despite his AI clearly working and it having the potential to make the company millions, Michelle tells him to pull the plug on it. Why? Because she and everyone in the company loves making money off of violence, especially Vincent Moore (Hugh Jackman), a former military man who’s hated the idealism of Deon for years and is still bitter about his war machine, Moose, being rejected by Michelle (so much so that when he learns of Deon’s AI project, Vincent, I’m not kidding here, threatens Deon with a gun while they’re working in the office and while other workers are around them in plain sight, but no one in the office reacts to it).  Undeterred, Deon secretly takes an old police bot marked for the scrap pile home, repairs it and installs his AI onto it for testing, but he’s kidnapped by three criminals, Ninja, Yo-Landi Visser (both of whom are real-life musicians playing themselves here, minus the criminal part) and Amerika (Jose Pablo Cantillo) who have a massive debt owed to an even more ruthless lowlife and see Deon’s AI in an old police bot as a way to steal the money they need.  The AI is reflecting the entire scope of the human condition and as such, the robot, named Chappie (Sharlto Copley), begins his existence with a child-like mentality designed to evolve based on his parental influences and is torn between the good nature of Deon and manipulative malevolence of the criminals, the latter of whom take Chappie to mold in their own felonious images (except for Yo-Landi because, apparently, since she’s the only woman here, she has to have a hidden and pure maternal side).

I will admit that there is a lot of narrative material to work with here and, based on that, there were many ways this movie could have effectively delivered on it, but to me, it always seems to choose the worst method to go about it, both from a storytelling perspective and on the grounds of taste and common decency.  First and foremost, I have a real problem with the way this movie uses Chappie, that is, as window-dressing to tart up its old hat ideas of the moral science guy standing up against violence and war-mongers, said war-mongers reaching too far with their greed and criminals turning to extreme and unorthodox measures to pay off a bounty on their heads.  It’s the worst with the criminals, because Ninja, Yo-Landi and Amerika are clearly using Chappie to get what they want and are lying to the child-like robot with false promises of love and affection as the reward for helping them and the way this movie depicts that really hit a personally offensive nerve with me. I’m going to be honest; although I strongly believe that no topic should be considered off-limits in movies, themes of parental/familial manipulation and abuse of children are something I’m very sensitive to, as I’ve had to deal with many examples of that in my own life. As such, when I see a film playing in those dangerous waters, I sit there and think to myself, “OK, movie, what are you going to do interesting, responsible and/or even darkly humorous with that material?” With great movies about that, like The Squid and The Whale and Precious, they totally justify themselves and I celebrate them for it, but when a film trifles with it and revels in emotional/physical suffering, I will not hesitate to verbally destroy it with everything I have, as is the case with Chappie (and also, my #8 film on this worst of list).

I will confess that, despite what I just said, I don’t really care that much about Chappie as a character, as the film develops him poorly and plays up his child-like nature and desire to impress to a relentless, repetitive and sanctimonious degree (his annoying voice doesn’t help, either).  Even so, I still felt miserable watching Chappie suffer the way he does, because of the way the movie cruelly relishes in his emotional despair when he realizes he’s been betrayed and also, in his physical anguish, particularly the scene where he’s lured in with the false pretense of belonging with a local gang and is then attacked, set on fire and dismembered as he begs for help. Also, the movie, despite it supposed to be belonging to Chappie, seems to not be interested in his arc, as opposed to glorifying his pain, as well as the societal unrest that led to his assault and the criminal underworld that Ninja, Yo-Landi and Amerika are a part of (and the movie never feels like it’s authentically holding those three characters accountable for what they do to Chappie). Blame there goes to the writing, done by director Blomkamp and Terri Tatchell, which ditches the potentially interesting and complex look into the dichotomy of childhood innocence and the harsh and hateful world they grow up in and settles for simplistically surface and clichéd explanations, totally random, randomly changing and thus, unbelievable character motivations and arcs and an insultingly abrupt and unsatisfying resolution to everything.  In between, the film assaults us with its relentless despair and ugliness in regards to its themes, its pushy and endless profanity, its dull and annoyingly slow-motion-heavy action scenes and its shockingly gory, grotesque and vile violence that it definitely earns its overcompensating R rating for.  

Also, the film drags, the music, provided by Hans Zimmer and by “musicians” Ninja and Yo-Landi Visser, is awfully pushy and just awful (and if this is intended to make us buy the records of Ninja or Yo-Landi Visser, this should make you not want to hear their music ever again), the acting, aside from the decent Dev Patel, is insanely over-the-top, but in an aggressive and pathetic way, particularly from Hugh Jackman, Sigourney Weaver, Ninja and Yo-Landi Visser and, though the concept is potentially interesting and the robot special effects are convincing enough, none of that matters when the movie doesn’t have anything behind it to support them.  Also positive is that at least this film bombed and I’ve nearly forgotten it now, but I say “nearly,” because, when this opened, it snowed and sleeted earlier in the week and, when I left the theater after seeing this, I slipped on the ice twice and sustained a few bruises on my hands.  Too bad those injuries were more entertaining, more memorable and less painful to me than Chappie was.

7.      Jurassic World

Can we stop pretending that Jurassic Park is a respectable franchise already? Listen, I loved Steven Spielberg’s original film from 1993, but let’s be brutally honest here; that’s the only good movie in this series, as each subsequent sequel completely missed the point, terror and wonder of the original (even the one Spielberg made, The Lost World, which is his worst movie in my eyes, by the way) and was a massive waste of time, talent and money.  Well, OK, from the perspective of distributor Universal, those sequels weren’t a waste of money, because each film, quality be damned, ended up being a massive box office hit.  Jurassic World also followed that trend; after Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens, this was 2015’s highest grossing film, making over $650 million domestically, meaning that this series will sadly not be going extinct anytime soon, even though this movie is the kind of boring, slapdash, rarely thrilling, rarely interesting, ugly and cruel disaster that, on quality alone, should be enough to sink any major film series.

The film takes place 22 years after the original film where, as you may recall, John Hammond opened up a nature reserve in Central America that contained genetically manufactured dinosaurs made from the DNA of mosquitoes trapped in tree sap.  Of course, everything went terribly wrong and the deaths of a group of people sullied Hammond’s wide-reaching concept of the park allowing people to experience dinosaurs in real life, but with the recent death of Hammond (and, for that matter, the actor who played him in the first two films, Richard Attenborough), the Simon Masrani corporation decides to turn the once infamous Jurassic Park into Jurassic World, a massive amusement park that’s basically Sea World, but with dinosaurs instead of sea-life.  Apparently, despite the park being always crowded, attendance is down, so the corporation brings InGen (the same group that made the dinosaurs for Hammond) on board to provide a new dinosaur to increase ticket sales.  They come up with the Indominus Rex, a hybrid of the T-Rex and multiple other species, which increases park attendance and is seen as a potential military weapon by security guard Vic Hoskins (played by Vincent D’Onofrio).  Meanwhile, Owen Grady (Chris Pratt), who trains the dinosaurs for use in the park (particularly the velociraptors, who have become loyal to him), is put in charge of doing the same for Indominus, but the new dino kills his co-workers and he wants to destroy it, but, of course, the powers that be won’t admit their wrongdoing, so it’s up to him to go rogue, aided by Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard), a workaholic manager who’s looking for her lost nephews, Gray (Ty Simpkins) and Zack (Nick Robinson), who are visiting her for a vacation at the park, but are on the run from the dinosaurs because Claire’s married to her job and, of course, no one or nothing else (how sexist).

Man, I almost forgot how much plot this movie has, and that’s not even counting the meaningless, time-wasting and badly balanced sub-plots about the people in charge of the park’s tech (including Jake Johnson, who’s so good on New Girl but, between this and Let’s Be Cops, seemingly can’t catch a break in the movies) and the stuff with Zack and Gray’s parents getting a divorce, which is basically the reason they come to the park in the first place (because covering up family strife with a vacation to a potentially dangerous place under the not so watchful eyes of a completely distracted family member is grade-A parenting, right?).  Of the story that is supposed to be important, it’s brought down by how predictable, lazy and self-aggrandizing it is (the constant nods to the first Jurassic Park and the almost “wink-wink, nudge-nudge” attitude about how great it was and how this is the only sequel that counts, despite it being the worst one), as well as how the scientific mumbo-jumbo explaining everything is laid on too thick and, unlike the other films, is either completely impenetrable, insultingly stupid or a direct contradiction of the other films (namely, The Lost World and Jurassic Park 3, both of which were bad enough to deserve retconning, but to be fair, the events of The Lost World were widely known in the end and connected far more to the original film than 3, so if this only wants us to remember the first movie, and it does, it can’t just pretend The Lost World didn’t happen). As far as the characters are concerned, aside from Owen, I found them generally uninteresting, stereotypical and not particularly well-acted (with Bryce Dallas Howard and Nick Robinson being particularly painful to witness in places) and I didn’t find their character arcs convincing, due to their contrived changes in personality and motivation as the film heads towards its massively unsatisfying deus ex machina of an ending that, to be fair, given this movie’s obsession with the 1993 original, does make sense, since that film also had the same flaw.

However, two flaws that Jurassic Park did not have were with the look of the dinosaurs and the action scenes involving them. Of all the things you’d think they’d be able to get right with Jurassic World, you’d think they would be it, considering how jaw-dropping the sight of the dinosaurs were back in 1993 and how heart-stopping and expertly crafted the scenes with them attacking were.  With this film, however, although the special effects and CG of the dinosaurs are decent enough, there’s very little “wow” factor to their presence here.  We get a handful of moments pointing in the right direction, most of it coming from the early scenes with Owen and his team bonding with the raptors, the former being well-acted by Pratt and latter expressing themselves intriguingly with their movements and body language, which introduces a potentially interesting twist for the series regarding the bond between the humans and the dinosaurs. Sadly, the film doesn’t really go anywhere with that and instead, does exactly what the other films in the series have done; predictably set up the stupid and greed-inspired mistakes the bad humans make, which drown out the voices of reason from the good characters and allow the dinosaurs to roam free, punish the villains and threaten the protagonists, two of the latter of which are, once again, young children.  If the action scenes were exciting, I wouldn’t have minded, but they’re all too poorly paced, too poorly edited (this film’s quick-cut city), too poorly shot and often, too hard to see, given how dark those scenes are, to be engrossing or thrilling, with only the intro of the mosasaurus and the climactic dino battle being even decent (and even they’re not amazing).

Even worse, many of the scenes of the dinosaurs rampaging are offensively sadistic and cruel in ways that the other Jurassic Park films, even the bad ones, knew well enough to draw the line at.  Along with the film resorting to the old trick of the minority character being the first to die, which you’d think we’d be past in 2015 (and again, even the earlier movies didn’t do that), the film also shows glee in the death of the other characters that the film doesn’t consider important. There are three other examples of this that really made me angry and disgusted.  The first is the scene after Indominus escapes that has Owen and an overweight security guard hiding from the hybridized creature under separate cars. Of course, because the guard is obese, he has to die, but not before we witness him crying in terror and kissing a picture he has of his wife and child before he’s found by Indominus and decapitated.  That’s sick, but the film enters morally reprehensible territory in the protracted scene of the pteranodons escaping and terrorizing the park’s citizens, where we see many innocent civilians being murdered and dismembered. That’s bad enough, but then we get the vilest part of the movie, where Claire’s female assistant, who was watching Zack and Gray for her work-obsessed boss, is swooped away by two pteranodons, pecked at, nearly torn apart, thrown into a pool, ravaged some more and then, devoured alive by a mosasaurus, and throughout this whole scene, we see close-ups of her screaming in pain and terror as we witness her being tortured and then killed.  Hers is the longest and most graphic death in the movie, as well as, quite tellingly, the only death of a woman in this film, and it’s of a character who basically just did what she was being told by Claire and, I guess, because the boys got lost on her watch, despite her attempt to actually try and find/help them (unlike their irresponsible aunt), the movie is rationalizing that she deserves a gruesome death for it.  That’s disgustingly misogynistic and it fits a pattern of a movie that clearly hates women and has already shown that before hitting this repulsive low, given the retrograde character details/arc and wardrobe of Claire (yes, the mere sight of her running away from the dinosaurs in high heels is worth knocking this film over, especially in a summer where the female-positive Mad Max: Fury Road also existed) and the stock, barely developed and/or quickly dropped peripheral female characters, including Claire’s sister (played by a totally wasted Judy Greer), the female InGen scientists and a stereotypical techie that catches the eye of Jake Johnson’s character.

You know, thinking back about all the ways Jurassic World insulted my intelligence, my morality and my desire to be entertained by a summer blockbuster, The Lost World and even Jurassic Park 3 are looking much better in the rear view mirror compared to this. Hopefully, with all the money this film made, the guaranteed sequel to this will use some of that dough, as well as some thought and care on the part of its creators, to give us another good Jurassic Park movie again.  For the people who supported this to the degree of making this awful film a hit (admittingly, I supported it, too, but I only saw it once, and in 2D), I hope you’re happy.  Then again, despite this being successful, I’ve noticed a petition of people pushing to have its director, Colin Tevorrow, dropped as director of Star Wars Episode 9 and replaced by George Lucas, which perhaps signifies buyer’s remorse over Jurassic World, which I can certainly relate to.

8.      Danny Collins

As I said with Chappie, personal traumas in my life make it so that I view films that introduce topics of familial manipulation/abuse of parents of their children (even when said children are teens or adults) with a strong eye that I will not tolerate cynical exploitation of regarding how it’s depicted.  As strange as this may sound, my worst film of 2012, the Adam Sandler comedy, That’s My Boy, was a film like that and, even stranger (and perhaps, even more distressing), we got a glorified indie remake of that movie in 2015 with Danny Collins.  To be fair, this movie is different and better than That’s My Boy, as it’s more of a comedy-drama hybrid, it lacks the former’s raunchy humor, pro-child molestation message and 180 emotional turn at the end and it establishes itself with an interesting true story as its premise… that is, before it basically ditches said story for, apparently, not being “cinematic enough.”  Also, with a cast that includes heavy-hitters like Al Pacino, Annette Benning, Jennifer Garner, Bobby Cannavale and Christopher Plummer, this film had a chance to be good, but it turned out to be a cynical, contrived, phony and rage-inducing misfire that, as I hinted at, also fails my personal familial flippancy test.

The film is very loosely based on the true story of Steve Tilston, a musician in the 1970s who had desires to hit the big time, but never did. Three decades later, he received a long lost letter from the legendary John Lennon that the former Beatle had written for him back in the day.  Apparently, that letter changed Tilston’s perspective on life and music, but this movie says “screw Tilston; let’s pull in the fictional Neil Diamond-esque type we created and run him through a beyond tired tale of self-serving redemption for being a debaucherous deadbeat dad.”  Yeah, that’s what this film’s titular character, played by Al Pacino is; he’s an over the hill musician who, after realizing he wouldn’t be able to become a serious musician, “sold out,” if you will, which helped him become a multi-millionaire who owns multiple cars, beds multiple women (including a wife about 30 years his junior) and whose songs and stage performances are beloved by his fans, despite the years dwindling the size of his fandom and audiences. Like the real-life story of Tilston, Danny’s manager, Frank Grubman (Christopher Plummer), tells him that he found a long lost letter of encouragement from John Lennon that serves as a wake-up call to Danny and reminds him of the things in life he started, but gave up on, which, along with his attempts at musical artistry, also includes his estranged son who was born out of wedlock years earlier.  As such, Danny decides to pack his bags and head to New Jersey to reconnect with his son, Tom Donnelly (Bobby Cannavale), who is married to Samantha (Jennifer Garner), has a young daughter with ADHD named Hope (Giselle Eisenberg) and, understandably, doesn’t like the idea of his estranged father forcing his way into a relationship with him or his family. Even so, Danny checks into a nearby hotel to keep trying with Tom, while also planning to write some new songs and attempting to go out with the hotel’s resistant manager, Mary (Annette Benning).  

From there, the film hits all the notes that usually go with stories like this, including the attempted mix of feel-good comedy and heartwarming pathos, the concept of the wild-boy music artist attempting a personal and career shift and the hidden secrets he and his son hide, but man, does it ever miss the mark.  As I said, putting aside the fact that the movie’s tying itself to a real-life story that it has no interest in actually telling, this set-up could have resulted in something touching and genuine, particularly regarding the main dramatic hook of Danny and Tom’s fractured relationship, but that would have required a better developed character in Danny and, I’m sorry to say, an actor playing him who isn’t Al Pacino.  Early buzz on this film suggested this would break the acting slump Pacino has been in for the past 20 years since Heat, but it was all hype, because Pacino is unctuous and inappropriately theatrical in most every scene as Danny and his attempts to make us understand and care about the pathetic and shallow character he’s playing always come off as insincere and cloying.  Pacino’s also not helped by writer/director Dan Fogleman’s script, which is also shallow and false, as well as being completely wrong-headed, biased and offensive about the serious subject matter here.  Just like That’s My Boy did, the movie supports this father every step of the way and on everything he’s done without question, including his cruel rejection of Tom years earlier, and it exudes the twisted notion that Danny’s entitled to a relationship with Tom and his family, despite their legitimate objections and despite the fact that Danny’s actions to get what he wants show that he hasn’t changed.

OK, so we know Danny wants convince Tom that he deserves to be in his son’s life again, but how does he expect to do that (and how does this film expect us to buy Danny’s plight) based on how he acts?  Danny doesn’t ever take ownership of his failings, but instead, he speaks in the only language he knows how; money.  He tosses it around at Tom and his family regarding some medical situations they have and to help Hope get into a school that will help for her ADHD, both of which, on the surface, sound charitable.  However, we also obviously see that Danny is guilt-tripping Tom into a relationship before Danny spends his riches on him, and even after that, the movie clearly makes the point that Tom will not be able to pay for everything Danny has provided, which Danny then uses as a bargaining chip that he holds over his son’s head, particularly regarding the welfare of Grace and especially regarding a late-film reveal about Tom.  Thus, Danny’s charitability is revealed as a cynical and cruel means to an end for him and, since the movie shows no interest in playing fair with Danny, be it either by honestly exploring his mindset to better understand why he’s like this or by making a judgement call on it, the film reveals itself, like Danny, to be a fraud that’s simplistically trifling with heavy issues regarding personal health and fractured family dynamics while pretending it’s smart and compassionate.  

As if all of that wasn’t disgusting enough, it’s actually made worse by the one thing the movie does get right; the character of Tom, played quite effectively by Bobby Cannavale. He brings moments of poignancy and authenticity that this hacky script and film are otherwise undeserving of and uninterested in, and I thought he was generally believable as this clearly damaged man who, now that he’s starting to get somewhere in life with his wife and daughter, has to deal with old wounds being opened against his will that also make his current struggles even harder.  Yet, the movie, like Danny, often undercuts him, both dramatically and in a few cheap attempts at comedy, which, again, show how smarmy and insincere the film is.  Also, regarding the humor, at best, it falls flat and doesn’t blend well with the drama and, at worst, is so offensively tone-deaf that it actually made me vocally express my disgust quite loudly during the screening I was at, which I rarely do (in the pivotal dramatic scene, Danny makes an ice-breaker to Tom by asking him if his son knows he’ll always be there for him, and given the gravity of that scene that Danny’s defiling and his total lack of awareness, I yelled out “No!” about as loud as I could).

I know I spent a lot of time on that main story element, but it needed to be taken to task.  As far as the other plot points are concerned, Danny’s bond with Mary goes nowhere, despite some decent byplay here and there, the few moments looking at Danny’s darker side are sugarcoated and clichéd, and the look of the music world, both regarding stardom and the creative process, is shallow.  Also, the music choices, especially the ones by John Lennon (of course), hammer home every point and emotion (I told someone about that criticism and mentioned the scene where we see Danny’s changed perspective and awakened life goals and I didn’t even need to say which song they lazily applied there before they correctly said “they used Imagine, didn’t they?”), the supporting cast is just passable at best, which is not OK in a movie that has such massive talents as Jennifer Garner, Annette Benning and Christopher Plummer in those roles, and the scenes in New Jersey do not look like Jersey at all.  Ironically, New Jersey was also the setting of Darren Aronofsky’s brilliant 2008 film, The Wrestler (which was actually shot in that state) and, also ironically, is about a superstar trying late in life to fix himself and his ties with his child, but that film was infinitely smarter, rawer and, in its twisted way, funnier than the awful Danny Collins, so I’d say see The Wrestler, especially if you haven’t yet, but if you have, just watch that again.  

9.      Minions

Before Despicable Me came out in 2010, I noticed that the filmmakers sold that film by heavily pushing the Minions on us, a group of yellow pill-looking creatures that spoke in gibberish and acted as the hard workers to that film’s evil genius, Gru.  When I saw the movie, the Minions stole the film from the aforementioned main character, but not in the good way, as I found them to be annoying little pests that distracted from the character I was interested in and reflected that film’s complete lack of confidence and respect in its audience’s intelligence.  I warmed up to the Minions in Despicable Me 2, because they were better defined, used sparingly, didn’t get in the way of Gru and the girls’ story and because that movie understood the definition of the word “minions,” that is, “a servile dependent, follower, or underling” (thank you, Merriam-Webster). But apparently, fans of this series think Gru isn’t worth a third movie right away, so this year, we got Minions, a Despicable Me prequel that’s all about those yellow guys and, just when I thought I could put up with these characters, my hatred for them came roaring back to me, especially since their film is as much of a loud, cynical, unfunny, lazy and empty waste of time as they are.  

Seeing as this takes place before either of the Despicable Me films, the Minions aren’t with Gru yet and so, we get their origin story.  Basically, they were there from the dawn of history and have always had one desire; to find the biggest and meanest villain around to serve as the master that they’ll follow to the end of the world.  The Minions, however, are often so clumsy that they end up inadvertently murdering their masters (sometimes in surprisingly gruesome fashion for a PG-rated kids film), so as the years go on, they’re able to hold onto a master about as effectively as Hogwarts in Harry Potter is able to hold onto a Defense Against The Dark Arts professor.  The Minions find themselves trapped in an ice cave for a while and, by the time the late 1960s roll around (yeah, this is a period piece, surprisingly), the Minions have basically given up all hope in finding a master, with the exception of young Kevin, who’s determined to find someone for him and his companions to follow. He’s able to convince two other Minions, Stewart and Bob, to join him on a trek to New York, where they hear about Villain Con, a convention in Orlando, Florida showing off the latest in super-villain technology that this year, is having a special appearance from the world-famous villainess, Scarlet Overkill (Sandra Bullock), who’s looking for some new underlings. Scarlet sees potential in the Minions and agrees to give them the job if they can swipe the crown of Queen Elizabeth in England, and the rest of the movie is colorful looking hijinks with a power struggle forming between Scarlet and the Minions, as well as another chance for the underestimated Kevin to prove his worth (because single-handedly organizing and going out to get a master for everyone else apparently wasn’t good enough).

Doesn’t sound too bad so far and, to the film’s credit, it is a short movie with appealingly colorful and detailed CG animation, a dedicated voice performance in Sandra Bullock as Scarlet and a couple of nice 60s touches that feel of a piece with the time, namely the scene where they camp out in a swanky department store and watch The Saint, Bewitched and The Dating Game on TV before going to bed. Sadly, that’s where the effort and positivity with this one ends, as the rest of the movie endlessly pushes its lazy, desperate and forced slapstick comedy and empty action frenzy with these irritating characters and without making any of it funny, exciting or clever. Oh sure, they do try and make a couple of period appropriate and pop-cultural references here and there, but it does that in the way that all the bad recent children’s animated films do; by basically referencing them, but with no real angle or punch-line to make either an effective satirical point or something visually interesting that would make the joke land on its own. Basically, it’s just “hey, the Minions are doing something that happened in real life around this time, so that automatically makes it funny,” whether it’s the idea of them inadvertently crashing the “faking” of the moon landing, doing the album cover of The Beatles’ Abbey Road before the band did or Bob doing a mic drop after inadvertently becoming the King of England.  Along with many of those asides, as well as the frequent musical interludes and returns to the other Minions in the ice cavern, stopping the movie in its tracks due to poor pacing and direction, they’re not funny and, even in a movie like this aimed at children, I need to be laughing or at least smiling.

I also needed another thing to go for this that it, like too many animated kids’ films, seems to think is unnecessary; an interesting plot and at least a hint of consistency and authenticity as it relates to the characters and their situations. Yeah, it sounds unfair of me to be calling out a lack of narrative construction and continuity in a Minions movie, but like the Despicable Me films before it (or perhaps after it, at least chronologically), it’s similarly mixing its wacky comedy and pathos, the latter of which is clearly asking us to believe the arcs of Kevin, Bob and Stuart, as well as their relationship with Scarlet, and we don’t buy into it for a second.  As I hinted above, Kevin’s progression as the young optimist who tries to help the cynics around him see the forest for the trees never seems to be acknowledged by his peers, even when he’s clearly getting results, but the film only really goes into that when the plot needs it to continue and even then, it’s clichéd, inconsistent and not particularly involving or touching.  Same goes with the stuff with Scarlet; she bounces back between hating the Minions and loving them, but the movie rarely makes a point of why that really is (except, again, for story convenience) and, when she starts to mistreat the Minions at the drop of a hat, there’s no perspective from the Minions to make us believe why they’d continue to follow her, especially when that’s contrasted with their earlier actions in the ice cave to walk away from following a wooly mammoth that tried to kill them.  Again, you may think I’m asking too much here, but when what they’re presenting for me to get invested in is boring and full of holes, it’s hard to ignore, especially when the endless and meaningless frenzy (complete with lame 3D that’s easy to spot in 2D) can’t pick up the slack.

Given that the film doesn’t seem to care about writing an interesting enough story and characters or writing some damn jokes, I really took offense to this film’s massive and massively obvious collection of famous licensed music on the soundtrack.  The way this movie uses its songs as a replacement for explaining itself in the script is really cynical and cheap, as well as being a massive waste of resources that should have went to allowing the scriptwriters to make the movie funny and involving.  Also, instead of adding to the scenes the music is applied to, they took me out of them, as well as the movie as a whole, because I kept noticing the music over anything else, especially with such massive hits as The Doors’ Break On Through To The Other Side (which yes, they did have to censor here), The Who’s My Generation, The Kinks’ You Really Got Me, The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s Purple Haze, Van Halen’s Eruption (which the filmmakers apparently don’t realize didn’t exist in 1968, and don’t give me that Back To The Future/Johnny B. Goode argument for that, because I don’t buy it) and, of course, The Beatles’ Got To Get You Into My Life and, over the end credits, Revolution.  Those last two alone had to have cost a fortune to license and to see them trotted out just for the hell of it did not amuse me, especially given that other smaller and better films and filmmakers (like Wes Anderson for The Royal Tenenbaums) were basically on their hands and knees begging for access to The Beatles and were flatly refused, while a studio effort like this apparently got them with no struggle at all.

Despite my complaining, though, people still went for Minions, because it made well over $300 million at the box office, outdoing far better and more ambitious animated films that still were good enough to be crowd-pleasers, like The Peanuts Movie and Shaun The Sheep Movie. In fact, those superior films’ grosses combined were still less than this annoying and empty effort made, which is a real shame and shows either a strong fandom of the Minions characters that I cannot understand, the power of marketability of said characters, a lack of taste, or perhaps all three.

10.  Suffragette

I’ve been saying throughout this essay that I’d like to see more women making films that provide a unique and strong voice that stands out to audiences and the industry.  Nearly half of this worst of list, however, has been comprised of female directed films that just aren’t good and sadly, do not inspire confidence that a larger respect of female filmmaking will come from their existence, and Suffragette, Sarah Gavron’s Oscar-bait biopic about the Emmeline Pankhurst-inspired women’s voting rights movement in 1912 England, is another one. I know pundits and perhaps people who will celebrate every film made by a woman just for being another movie not directed by a man (I heard that defense used to rationalize Pitch Perfect 2 more than once), and they may follow suit with this, but I’m sorry, the gender of this awful, manipulative, badly made, irrational and deeply insulting film’s director isn’t enough to excuse it, especially when the movie is running off of that same insane “I’m made by a woman and about women’s rights, so even legitimate criticism against me is misogynistic and unacceptable” social justice warrior mindset and totally ends up trashing the important cause and subjects that it claims to care so much about.

Carey Mulligan stars as Maud Watts, a fictional character designed for this film, who’s a young, married laundress in working class Manchester who one day, passes by a group of women vandalizing a nearby store by breaking the windows with rocks and demanding “votes for women.”  One of the women Maud sees is Violet (Anne-Marie Duff), a co-worker of hers who’s scheduled to give testimony in front of the Houses of Parliament to make the case for the right to vote for women.  Maud is roped into the position of giving the testimony after Violet is beaten by her husband, but despite Maud laying out a rational case, the measure is rejected and, after being caught in the resulting public fracas between the suffragettes and police, Maud is arrested.  There, she meets Emily Davison (Natalie Press), an even more dedicated suffragette who works closely with the famous/infamous leader of the England suffragette movement, Emmeline Pankhurst and, when Maud gets out, she also gets involved with the local suffragette chapter, led by Edith Ellyn (Helena Bonham Carter) and becomes part of the group.  Maud also is struggling with her boss at work, who has a penchant for sexual harassment, sexual abuse and overworking the all-female workforce and her husband, Sonny (Ben Whishaw), who’s concerned about the bad reputation that Maud and, by extension, he got for her being arrested.  Meanwhile, Maud is loving towards her son, Georgie, who is her main source of strength, along with the encouraging words for her activism personally provided by Pankhurst (Meryl Streep) at one of her rare public appearances, but, as you might guess, Maud goes deeper and deeper in her fight for her gender’s rights as she and her group’s tactics for change become more radical, resulting in the collapse of her marriage, the loss of access to her son, and her continued run-ins with the law, led by Inspector Steed (Brendan Gleeson), who agrees with the suffragettes that women should have the vote and, in cases, are being mistreated in ways they shouldn’t be (particularly as he witnesses the forced-feedings of the women on hunger strikes), but is forced to balance that between the anarchy and illegalities that the women eventually commit, the depths of how far the suffragettes may go, his need to enforce the laws and his fears of Maud losing everything by going too far.

This movie makes it clear that, along with telling its true story (not counting the fictionalized characters, which include Maud, Edith and a few others) of past oppression of women, it’s also making a statement in bold, italics and underlining that “this is timely and important right now.”  I’ll bet someone behind this picture saw Selma and the reaction to that film, where most every critic/pundit made the same point, and thought, “hey, we can do the same thing with Suffragette, and get this movie a similar sense of importance that will make people respect it, position it as an important advocacy film and get it awards consideration!” Selma, however, was a really good movie that made its cases effectively, had complexities and details that granted it an impressive sense of depth and scope and was a gripping, intriguing and poignant cinematic portrait of its vital period in time and its specific story about a push for human rights, so it deserved the attention it got and some of the bigger picture discussions that surrounded it. Suffragette is the first film I’ve seen in this recent group of movie that had (or wanted to have) the timely label put on it that seems specifically designed just so it could flaunt that and its message, which is made clearly obvious from the opening and closing walls of text that historically white-wash and pedantically lecture us about how women didn’t have voting, wage and societal representation rights back in 1912 and still don’t, based on a list of countries put up at the end that include the ones that now have those things and the ones that still don’t.  Yet, this movie isn’t honest enough to admit it’s a slanted advocacy film; it tries to pass itself off as a work of great depth, resonance and complexity, but there’s not even a scintilla of those three things given to the audience here.

The film is pretending to care via its portrayal of Maud, particularly the love she shows for her son and the idea of her growth to the point where she can’t take what happens to her anymore and becomes radicalized.  However, I’m making her arc sound more deep and involving than it really is, because Maud’s changes in motivation come about too abruptly and aren’t filled in enough to understand or believe who she eventually becomes.  I blame the script mostly for that, because it’s insanely clichéd, histrionic, slanted and preachy (that’s baffling, given that Abi Morgan, the writer of the great and complex Shame, penned this), but also, Carey Mulligan lacks the gravity to make us connect with Maud, despite the talent she’s shown in other films. Also, as I said earlier, she’s forced to give Violet’s speech to Parliament, but what I didn’t mention is that, before she finally relents, we see her adamantly trying to get out of doing it.  That’s an important point, because it shows that Maud’s being brought into the suffragette world against her will with the apparent concept that she’ll become jaded enough about what she sees and goes through to fall in line, but the movie never addresses this or what might be the most grossly hypocritical aspect of what the suffragettes, as portrayed here, end up doing to her.  All of them, including Pankhurst, constantly talk about the idea that a movement like this needs sacrifice in order to result in the change they’re fighting for, but most of the suffragettes here don’t have to lose or give up anything.  There are only two that do and, of those, Maud loses more than anyone.  As far as the other one, you likely know what happened if you’re familiar with the real story’s history, but that loss is not something she and the other suffragettes planned and, despite what this movie argues, it was not the only factor that led to women getting the right to vote in England.  In addition, that apparently “game-changing” event, in real-life, had absolutely no relation to the violence or other radical tactics the suffragettes use, but the movie seems to think it did and celebrates that they went that far to get results, which ironically, ends up denigrating and simplifying the suffragette movement that the film is in favor of by painting them as “ends justify the means” anarchists, when they were far more than that. It also shows that, even if this film’s just about its black and white message, it’s too inept to argue it intelligently or effectively.

Then again, this a movie that thinks every man is villainous, even the ones it clearly tells us are on the side of wanting women’s rights, if not via the methods the suffragettes use here (namely, Steed and, to a certain extent, Sonny), has little interest in properly discerning the other suffragettes so that we’ll also attach to them and thinks that casting Meryl Streep in a key role (her Pankhurst is with Maud and Edith on the movie’s poster) and then having her show up for only one 2-minute scene (where she doesn’t add the gravitas we’re set up for) was a good idea. Also, despite the talented cast, the performances are just passable, at best, and many of the big names (and not just Streep) are underutilized and underdeveloped, the pacing is poor, despite some authentic visual touches for 1912 England, we don’t get drawn into that world and its time in the way that we really should, Gavron’s direction is dreary, flat and uninteresting and the cinematography is unbelievably choppy and headache inducing, filled with overcompensating and unnecessary shaky cam for the action scenes and way too many incomprehensible close-ups.

I still think the subject of the suffragette movement in England could be turned into a great and special film if a director like Mike Leigh was given a shot at it (and he certainly could do it right, as his Vera Drake, my best film of 2004, was a fantastic and uncompromising look at British social disparity, despair and divide about women's issues, specifically, abortion, in the 1950s).  Suffragette, as it is, just won’t do, despite the female creative touches brought to it and, as far as convincing anyone that this story and the push for women’s rights is/was important, this isn’t helping.  Let’s put it this way; I saw a 20-something couple at my screening who, given their age and the fact that they were even at this movie in the first place, are very likely the kind of people you’d expect to have a deep desire to keep pushing for women’s rights. But they were clearly having none of this business since, about halfway through, they walked out. I envy them.

And now, the films of 2015 which were really bad, but not bad enough to crack my top 10, organized in no particular order of poor quality (with the exception of one; I think you’ll be able to tell which it is):

Ant-Man

Something tells me I’ll be making a lot of enemies over my hatred of this highly-praised comic adaptation, but I’m not going to hold back. I despised Ant-Man and I’m shocked at that reaction, given that it came personally and highly recommended to me and given the supposedly higher standard of the comic book movies put out from Marvel Studios (with The Avengers and Captain America films being recent standouts).  Then again, I notice that apparently every Marvel Studios film is considered an instant masterpiece by comic fans and that they gave this stupid, tone-deaf, obvious and culturally rancid film a pass suggests that they can’t or won’t be objective about most of the Marvel movies nowadays (see also, last year’s overrated Guardians Of The Galaxy and X-Men: Days Of Future Past which, it must be said, were way better than this).  Paul Rudd stars as a burglar who, after being incarcerated and losing his job at Baskin-Robbins (which is shamelessly and un-ironically plugged in those scenes, by the way), gets involved with Michael Douglas and his daughter, Evangeline Lilly, to become the titular hero who has the power to shrink in size, but grow in power, with the assistance of a steel suit and help stop the owner of an evil corporation and get back to his daughter.   To give the movie a little credit, it does try to make its silly story believable in its way, as it doesn’t take itself too seriously, the special effects of Ant-Man’s change in size are convincing enough and I do like Michael Douglas, who brings in some much needed gravitas that none of the other actors can (he’s also arguably the film’s main character over Ant-Man, which I’m down with).  But those things don’t at all make up for the rest of the movie; the film trying to be serious and snarky falls flat when one tone has to overlap the other (for example, I got downright angry at the "ice-breaker" Paul Rudd gives after Michael Douglas and Evangeline Lilly have a touching moment, despite him admitting how horrible and wrong it was afterwards) and, even when the moods are separated, the humor is pushy, obvious and obviously underlined (how much do you want to bet that the idea of him going between small and normal size will lead to a lazy male anatomy joke?) and the drama is inert, predicable and sometimes confusing, is needlessly grisly in places (the stuff with the shrinking lambs) and is another cynical example of an entertainment film offensively trifling with the child in danger device and absentee/irresponsible father trope, both of which, unless they’re justified somehow, I have no tolerance for anymore. Speaking of cynical, this movie connects itself to Avengers: Age Of Ultron a lot, and yeah, I get that these Marvel Studio films all function in the same universe as all the others, but considering how uninterested and surly this film made me, those references only reminded me how far better that movie was and made me wish I was rewatching that instead.  Also, that movie didn’t have the appalling racism and sexism of this one, both of which, ludicrously and despite all the talk about how big a cultural problem both things are, the film’s fans completely let it off the hook for. Evangeline Lilly is supposed to be a hardened and intelligent fighter, but that’s not good enough apparently, because the movie reveals she has a dead mother that emotionally inspired her strength and it relishes in Lilly sobbing over her and then, we have Michael Pena leading Rudd’s ethnically diverse group of “wacky, yet lovable” technologically savvy gangbanger pals, introducing a level of racist stereotyping that’s only surpassed by Pitch Perfect 2 as the year’s most cinematically despicable (even Pixels was more culturally respectable than this, but barely). Again, if you liked this, good for you (though ignoring its rank intolerance doesn’t make you look good), but between this and another 2015 Marvel film I’ll be discussing, I think February’s Deadpool has a lot to atone for.

Crimson Peak

Let’s face facts here; the horror genre, as it was initially designed, has been on life support for years. Most major horror films nowadays are comprised of shallow remakes of classics, cheap and timid PG-13 rated jump scare fests, the occasional Grand Guignol-inspired violence fest and the rare quality film that does something unique and is celebrated for it (probably the two most recent ones that fit in there are The Babadook and It Follows, neither of which I’ve seen yet).  Crimson Peak looked like it had a good chance to fall into that coveted latter category, as it had a beautiful gothic look, heavily inspired by the great Hammer horror films, lavish costume and set design and it was directed by Guillermo Del Toro, maker of the great Pan’s Labyrinth.  Then again, let’s be honest here; Pan’s Labyrinth is the only great movie he’s made (and no, Pacific Rim is not an effective argument against my claim, even though that was a good movie) and Del Toro’s inability to even come close again to his 2006 masterpiece is no more frustrating to realize than with this ridiculous, plodding, obviously telegraphed, empty, insulting and awful "style over substance" effort. The story is set in the 1900s and follows a young woman from New York (Mia Wasikowska) with desires to become a writer, who gets involved with a mysterious brother and sister team (Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain) by falling in love with the brother, marrying him and going to live with them in a spooky mansion in the English countryside brimming with bizarre creatures and hidden horrors.  As is the case with most of Del Toro’s films, this is a great looking movie, providing an appealing and both time period and atmospherically appropriate color palate, use of gothic architecture and design of the costumes, as well as the nice looking mansion (that was constructed specifically for the film) and some unique designs and special effects for the ghosts that haunt it.  However, it’s clearly obvious that all of Del Toro’s care went into just the visuals of this movie, resulting in a complete lack of an engrossing story, interesting characters and effective scares, which ends up making the film’s good looks completely meaningless and wasteful.  The story is insanely predictable, made even worse by its portentous and on-the-nose script that literally tells us exactly what will happen two or three scenes up ahead (including the insane and desperately ugly/gruesome third act, which also betrays the “classy” and “substantial” horror vibe it was trying earlier to present itself as), broadly draws the characters so that their actions and/or changes in motivation come about with no rhyme or reason (outside of keeping the story moving), cynically tries to put forward a “strong” and “deep” feminist undertone and view of female sexuality that the film’s overall prurience completely and insultingly negates and resorts to the “lowest common denominator” scare tactics of music stings, laughing children and crying babies on the soundtrack that, along with not being effective even on that cheap level, are exactly the tactics that Del Toro himself often avoids in his films and publicly criticizes other horror movies for doing (which reminds me; Del Toro has shown himself to be a total hypocrite regarding this one in recent interviews, as he chided the Hollywood studios for ruining the horror genre, while claiming this junk he co-wrote and directed is somehow better, even though it’s not and even though he collaborated with a major studio to get it released).  Not even the acting here can sell this; Mia Wasikowska as the girl and Jim Beaver as her father are, at best, decent, while Tom Hiddleston is empty and boring and Jessica Chastain, a usually reliable and strong actress, gives perhaps the worst performance of her career here with her overwrought, mannered and just not fun or interesting turn as the sister. If you’re a massive (and massively forgiving) Del Toro/horror fan or you’re someone whose idea of a good movie consists of looking at shiny, pretty things for 2 hours with no care of any substance supporting it, then maybe you’ll like this more than I did, but I’d say you should just watch (or re-watch, if that’s the case) Pan’s Labyrinth, which does everything this does, but more and better. As far as Del Toro goes, I hope he gives us another great film again, especially since he’s shown he’s willing to criticize himself by expressing shame over making Mimic; here’s hoping by the time he gives us another triumph, he’ll apologize for making this movie, too.

Fantastic Four

Oh, so NOW the Marvel fans are able to show objectivity towards adaptations of their comics.  Yeah, I’m still upset that fanboys and fangirls completely excused Ant-Man, but unlike that film, Marvel Studios didn’t release Fantastic Four, which is now, technically, the 4th attempt to do cinematic justice to Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s original superhero team, and thus, even fans of the comic refused to justify it.  In this case, I don’t blame them at all and though, to me, Ant-Man is about as bad as this, at least that one wasn’t totally depressing and soul-draining.  This one attempts to take the usually lighter superhero exploits of Mr. Fantastic (Miles Teller), The Invisible Woman (Kate Mara), The Human Torch (Michael B. Jordan) and The Thing (Jamie Bell) into a more gritty and serious direction which, if it were done correctly, had the potential to uniquely flesh out these characters’ bond as a group and to individually make them interesting based on their unique personalities and their reactions to the powers they wield.  As you can probably guess, though, the execution of the film totally fails to make anything interesting or justify the darker tone and, to the latter point, it’s repellent and oppressive to such a relentless degree that it becomes totally unjustifiable, even with its token attempts at self-deprecating humor (“he’s going to give a speech now”) that are delivered without an ounce of passion by the actors and, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, made me nostalgic for the Tim Story directed Fantastic Four films.  Also, the CG and special effects are terrible, despite the involvement of WETA (they’re not getting an Oscar nomination this year, that’s for sure), the action scenes are dull and go on forever, the acting is poor (Tony Kebbell as Dr. Doom is particularly painful to watch), the film feels unfinished, with tons of obvious gaps in the dull plot, subplots that are noticeably underdeveloped, due to them being hastily pulled at the last minute (the stuff with The Thing working for the military) and bad editing details (there’s a shot of the professor being asked where Reed Richards is, and in that shot, I swear I saw Reed standing right there), and, going back to the grittier tone, there’s a lot of grisliness to this film that’s flat-out appalling.  I get being darker, but unless you really know what you’re doing, I don’t think there’s any place in a Fantastic Four movie for bloody decapitations, live entombings and a charred burning carcass, the latter of which is made even more stomach-churning when you consider it happens to Michael B. Jordan’s character (and yes, it does clearly call to mind lynchings and it makes me wonder if those reactionary online pundits who said that Jordan being cast here was a “racial victory” still feel it was any kind of cultural win).  At least Stan Lee doesn’t have a cameo here, but that’s the only good thing I can say about this movie (and it doesn’t speak well that even the comic’s creator didn’t want anything to do with it).  Some people are hopeful that Marvel Studios will get their hands on Fantastic Four and if so, we’ll finally get a good movie, but after 4 failed tries, I think they need to take the hint that cinema and this comic book just don’t mix.

Kingsman: The Secret Service

I said that I’d probably rattle the cages of people by trashing Ant-Man, but as far as Kingsman: The Secret Service is concerned, I already did that when I reviewed it last March.  I got more opposing pushback on that review than any other I wrote all year, most of it because of my condemnation of its most infamous scene (which is one that even most critics and fans of the film can’t/won’t justify; I’ll get into that again), but also because I called this picture out for the draggy, nigh-obscene and offensively two-faced and lazy spy movie that it ultimately ends up becoming.  Honestly, I thought this film started out alright, telling its story of a secret British spy agency run by Michael Caine that has Colin Firth as its famous face and is looking for a new member, whom they potentially find in a young man, played by Alex Nikolov, with a family history with the group.  Also, the film starts out with a suave, classy and refreshingly self-aware (but not self-congratulatory) aura about itself and some decent action that, despite its familiarity, made me somewhat curious as to where it would go when the plot with the villain (Samuel L. Jackson) kicked in. As the film goes on, though, it starts to drag badly and it clearly loses interest and focus in what it set itself up to be, as its character development suddenly starts being glossed over and filled with unconvincing and lazy changes in motivation, the story becomes muddled and protracted, with major plot details either disappearing completely or being hastily revived near the end to act as a contrivance and/or a punch-line for a crude joke (the stuff with the kidnapped Scandinavian princess, including the film’s closing line connected to her, is a perfect example) and the attempts at political commentary are jumbled, lacking any point of view and feeling like they were tacked on.  That’s all bad enough, but then the movie takes its mask off and reveals that it’s not the light and classy effort it sold itself as, but a relentless violent, vulgar, sexist and hateful exercise in exploitation that thinks it’s balancing and redeeming those elements by mixing them in a joyous and well-made Quentin Tarantino-esque blend, but really isn’t.  This film is directed by Matthew Vaughn who, as a filmmaker, I have no respect for, because in films like this, Layer Cake, Kick-Ass and even Stardust (which is the only film of his I like, and even then, I think it worked more in spite of his direction than because of it), he’s blatantly aping the style and form of another film/director and, while totally missing the point of what he’s homaging, he cynically hides behind his inspirations or designs his films seemingly around the idea that he’ll be able to put a quick and cheap narrative band aid on it to get away with how morally, intellectually and creatively bankrupt they really are. The last half of this picture is full of that kind of stuff, which nothing in the movie up to that point bothers to even hint at, and the film does a poor job of handling the tonal shift towards all of the avenues the film travels towards, such as sexualizing every single female character, save for a token singular woman, who’s then quickly shuttled out of view, ramping up the vulgar dialogue to the hilt in ways that are pushy, but not funny or ironic and, of course, the scenes of violence. There are a lot of them, all of which come off as just ugly and desperate in one way or another, but the worst one is the scene in the church, which is worth nailing to the wall more than the other ones because it’s first one we see, it’s the point where the movie officially admits how classless it and it’s the one that totally crossed the line for me.  It’s not because it takes place in a Christian church (the idea that I’d have accepted it if it were set at any other religion’s place of worship, which someone vaguely accused me of, is false and twisted) and it’s not because it’s violent, but because it’s not exciting, it’s not particularly well choreographed, its tone is so sour and such a whiplash from what came before, and it’s just appalling and not at all entertaining.  Also, it, like the movie itself, wants to have it both ways; it wants to be a dramatic look at the depravity that the villain will go to (and yeah, despite the hateful things the churchgoers say, they didn’t deserved to be brutally murdered for them and the subtext of the scene suggesting that they do is deeply disturbing and sick), but that only comes from a single hasty throwaway line after the scene; the scene itself plays as jokey sadism with a “fun” and “hip” aura that’s clearly hammered home to the tune of Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird. If that scene were to work, we’d have needed that context before it happened; as is, this is a cowardly attempt for Vaughn to justify his hateful ugliness. I will admit that this movie is worse for me more on the grounds of common decency and cynicism than anything else, but still, I think it’s fair because it’s representative of what the movie becomes and it’s still a clearly flawed misfire with that put aside. At least we got better spy films later in 2015, namely, Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation, which was the gold standard in the genre this year (even over the Bond film, Spectre), and this was about the furthest from it.

Pan

More than any of these worst of the year runners-up, Pan was the one that just missed making my bottom 10 and keeping it off of there was probably the hardest decision I had to make for this worst of survey.  If you also happened to see this (and, unlike me, had to pay to see it; I really owe AMC Stubs rewards for that), A, I offer my condolences and B, you clearly can understand my struggle. This was the latest movie inspired by J.M Barrie’s seminal story, Peter Pan, but it functioned as a revisionist prequel to it, telling us that Peter was initially an orphan in World War II-era London, that he got to Neverland because the orphanage he lives in is actually a pirate front for a mining slave trade there and that he’s secretly “the chosen one” destined to liberate the land from a pirate named Blackbeard (painfully played by Hugh Jackman, and man, between this and Chappie, did he ever have a horrible 2015 at the movies).  Oh yeah, and we meet Captain Hook who, before he gained his title and seminal hand replacement, was friendly with Peter and was a 1940s adventure film style rogue with the hots for Tiger Lilly (Rooney Mara, who I’ll bet is hoping her lauded role in Carol makes us forget this, but I never forget). To be honest, I don’t mind the idea of a revisionist movie like this; I loved Maleficent last year, which rethought Sleeping Beauty, and, as far as twists on this same material go, we had Steven Spielberg’s Hook which, though a near-miss to me, had its merits, despite it being about as hated in 1991 as Pan is now.  This film, however, is just grotesque, slapdash, dull, depressing and feels like revisionism for the sake of being able to say it’s different.  It’s drab and dismal in its color palate (despite one or two decent choices on that front, like the fairy cave), the CG is flat, the flying scenes look terribly fake, the acting is bad all across the board (including newcomer Levi Miller as Peter, the aforementioned Hugh Jackman and Garrett Hedlund, hamming it up so much as Hook that it actually made me nostalgic for his empty cypher lead persona in Tron Legacy),  and both the script by Jason Fuchs and the direction by Joe Wright (director of the scar-nominated Atonement, but also 2009’s vile The Soloist) give the sense of a film that’s unfinished (despite its release being delayed from July to October), with camera cuts that ruin the action scenes and often cut off dialogue scenes abruptly and underwhelmingly, repeated explaining of the blatantly obvious and dialog passages and exchanges that directly contradict each other (my “favorite” being when Peter is told of his past and that he’s the chosen one, but is still forced to prove it, despite the tribe telling him flat out that they already completely believe that he’s Neverland’s savior).  As far as the film’s unique elements go, they’re either muddled to the point of meaninglessness (Peter and Blackbeard’s bond and Blackbeard’s health issues), head-shaking, bewildering and/or painful (the mining slaves cheer on Blackbeard by chanting/butchering Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit and The Ramones' Blitzkrieg Bop; what were they thinking?!) or just offensively distasteful, particularly the shockingly painful and gruesome violence, most of it aimed at children and consisting of stabbings, shootings, gut-punches and kicking off high heights to their death, complete with sickening underlining of the pain with breaking bone sounds (and if I was recoiling from this “PG-rated” movie, how do you think kids will take it, assuming anyone makes the mistake of allowing a child to watch this?).  If you want a semi-recent and wonderful rethink of Peter Pan that doesn’t trash its inspiration, see P.J Hogan’s Peter Pan from 2003 which, as severely underrated as it is, still grossed more money than Pan did (it bombed on a Battlefield Earth or John Carter level), so there is justice in the world, thankfully.

Pixels

Last year, I gave Adam Sandler a break on my worst of list for Blended, which I didn’t think was nearly as bad as its reputation.  This year, though, we got Pixels, the action comedy based on a short subject (an apparently, a similar Futurama episode, which I can’t speak to, as I didn’t see it) about video game characters invading Earth and causing havoc and, to quote Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw, a far superior arbiter of edgy video-game related comedy, “sometimes even the majority can be totally, totally right.” Yeah, this film was reviled from literally the moment its trailer dropped, but because I have an open mind and don’t pass judgement on the quality of films until I see them for myself, I went to this hoping it would be tolerable, but it really is a smug, unfunny and hateful mess and it’s the biggest non-adaptation cinematic disgrace to video games since 1989’s The Wizard.  I will say that the premise isn’t a bad one and there are some brief quality moments here with Adam Sandler’s story of what arcades are/were, some of the mash-up messages of the aliens’ messages to Earth (using many 80s music, TV, film and pop-culture icons) and some good scenes with Q*Bert, particularly when he recoils in horror at how there’s “so much blood” in The Last Of Us (because, hey, this is a Sony film, so we need a Sony video game to hawk, but that was a great choice).  But pretty much everything else here is pure bad; I hated every character (except Kevin James as the president, maybe because he’s dialing it back), especially Sandler’s repulsive, reactionary and narcissistic former video game champion, Peter Dinklage’s deviant and incarcerated childhood rival to Sandler and Josh Gad’s creepy, paranoid and sexually repressed conspiracy theorist (honestly, after this, The Wedding Ringer and last year’s worst film, Wish I Was Here, I’m about one film away from writing off Gad’s strong showings in Thanks for Sharing and Frozen as massive flukes), there’s no appeal or charm to the fantasy idea of all these video game characters showing up (which, given that this was directed by Chris Columbus, who made the first two Harry Potter films, is baffling), the action is poorly shot and uninteresting, the movie’s humor is aggressively tasteless, off-putting and not funny and, since Sandler was creatively involved here, it has nothing but contempt for everyone who isn’t him. Honestly, the rancor here, though, shockingly, not the most offensive I’ve seen in a movie this year, is the kind that it feels like the movie is going out of its way to satiate and has no motivation for introducing, including the rampant sexism and misogyny with Michelle Monaghan’s character and the object of Josh Gad’s desires, the racist stereotyping of all the ethnic characters, who are often the first to die or get abducted, or even its look at video gamers, which heavily suggests that they’re all repulsive and socially stunted Neanderthals (except for Sandler, of course; somehow, he’s better than all of us, despite how repulsive he is).  I guess this one isn’t as lazy as the usual Sandler films are, but that almost makes it worse, given that this had the potential to be an effectively edgy counterpart to the similar and excellent Wreck-It-Ralph, but instead, it just makes me want to see that far better film again. Hell, after this, I’d almost be willing to watch Paul Blart Mall Cop 2 again, as even that’s better. Game over, indeed.    

Run All Night

With Run All Night, I’m officially calling for an immediate moratorium on the recent trend of the yearly (or is it twice-a-yearly?) action thriller with Liam Neeson in the lead as the moral and capable, but bad-ass and bad-luck prone one man army.  Listen, I know this has basically become its own film sub-genre and I’ve liked some of them (like Taken and especially The Grey), but we live in an era after last year’s release of Scott Frank’s great and deeply underrated A Walk Among The Tombstones, which took the idea of Liam Neeson as an effective and mostly solo dealer of justice embroiled in a murder plot into appealingly dark, compelling and fresh directions, and that one makes an interchangeable and horrible film like Run All Night now completely unacceptable. This movie plays out like a bad clone of Taken that lacks that film’s loopy internal logic, clever action and uniquely grounded dramatic pull from Neeson and goes overboard with its endless parade of New York crime movie clichés (crooked cops and Albanian drug dealers again?), desperately profane and vulgar dialogue (the f-word and/or references to amazing bodied female conquests comprise what feels like almost every sentence, and none of it feels authentic), and those embarrassing “wooshing” fly-by shots that constantly remind us of how “cool” and “edgy” this movie thinks it is.  Also, the plot, despite being a pretty simplistic tale of a cop (Neeson) trying to keep his son alive (all night, of course) and out of a life of crime, is insanely muddled to the point of being incomprehensible at the start, while being insanely predictable at the end, is filled with loose ends and is, at its core, a massive rip-off of the far better Road To Perdition (to the point where the son is ALSO named Michael here).  OK, so maybe my demanding something unique in terms of this film’s style and story is asking too much, but I don’t think I’m being out of line in asking for some decent action and acting out of this thing, but the action scenes are way too dark and poorly shot to get excited by (or to even understand) and, despite an all-star cast that includes Neeson, Ed Harris, Joel Kinnaman, Vincent D'Onofrio and Nick Nolte (the latter being, apparently, too embarrassed to let his name be mentioned in the credits, and rightly so), the acting is dull and the performers sleep-walk through their stock roles, making them come off as warm-up exercises to character archetypes they’ve played many times before and nearly always better.  It kills me to know that this movie made slightly more money at the box office than A Walk Among The Tombstones did, a film that I implore you to see over this, because it shows what the standard for these movies going forward should be, while this one suggests a darker future for this sub-genre, and not in the good way.

Southpaw

Back in July, this boxing drama was sold as the season’s adult alternative to the mostly awful summer tent-pole productions aimed at the teenage crowd and there was even word before its release that it had Oscar potential, particularly for its lead actor, Jake Gyllenhaal, especially coming off his revelatory (and appallingly, not Oscar-nominated) performance in last year’s 2nd best film, Nightcrawler.  Well, those narratives were lies, as Southpaw turned out to be a real junky, lazy, draggy, choppy and inauthentic misfire and thankfully, it now has no one in their right mind thinking it deserves awards consideration for anything.  Gyllenhaal stars as Billy Hope, an insanely rich and hotheaded pugilist with the most embarrassingly literal name of a film protagonist since Nomi Malone from Showgirls 20 years ago (actually, Billy may be worse in that way) whose temper leads to his wife getting murdered, him losing his fortune for reasons never explained and his daughter, being placed into child protective services.  That story sounds like something that could have resulted in an interesting and uniquely raw boxing movie, especially given its top-flight cast, which also includes Rachel McAdams, Naomi Harris and Forest Whitaker in supporting roles.  Too bad, then, that the film recycles all of the usual boxing movie clichés and montages and attempts to inject heart and spirit into them via the also tired tropes of the boxer with trouble controlling their temper which are explored here with no unique perspective whatsoever.  To be fair, familiarity in a movie like this can be excused if it’s able to execute the old hat material well, but it doesn’t; the relationship between Billy and his daughter is totally unbelievable, as she instantly goes from adoring him to despising him for no other reason than because the plot dictates it, the film introduces the angle of the media relishing in Billy’s fall from grace and that he’s now flat broke (which, again, is never explained), but they are only brought up as hasty elements of conflict that are then immediately dropped and the potentially unique plot threads of Billy’s early life troubles and the violent side that comes about from his boxing entourage/bodyguards are unsatisfyingly cryptic at best and at worst, feel like remnants of scenes that were quickly (and perhaps, mistakenly) removed from the film before its release (though, given how poorly this film is paced, perhaps having less of it is a good thing).  Also, despite its cast, the only interesting one here is Forest Whitaker; Rachel McAdams really overdoes her New York accent as Billy’s wife, Oona Lawrence is not good at all as Billy’s daughter, Naomi Harris is totally wasted as a social worker and, as Billy, Gyllenhaal takes a massive step back from Nightcrawler, playing this character in a distracting and overly mannered fashion with his endless muttering and mugging, none of which made him any more gritty, authentic or interesting.  Technically speaking, the film is edited to hell and poorly directed by Antoine Fuqua (Training Day), to the point of inducing headaches, James Horner’s music score is distractingly overblown, the atrocious sound mixing makes the dialogue unintelligible at times and the boxing scenes are only adequately shot and generally lack the excitement, involvement and feeling of pain that you’d expect from a quality boxing movie.  Speaking of quality boxing movies, we got a far better one this year in Creed which, ironically (and rightly), got more Oscar buzz than this, so see that instead and leave this one on the mat where it belongs.

The Spongebob Movie: Sponge Out Of Water

If Minions didn’t come out this year, this likely would have been on my 10 worst list, representing the bottom of the barrel for animated family cinema in 2015.  I never liked Spongebob Squarepants as a show and I didn’t see the first film from 2004 (man, that’s a long time between sequels), so I thought that maybe, after some time apart from the series, the ungainly and inaccurately named The Spongebob Movie: Sponge Out Of Water would change my mind on it. Well, this only served to vividly remind me of everything that repelled me from this series in the first place, as it’s cynical, vapid, joyless, plodding and thoroughly off-putting, while also being perhaps the most disgustingly lazy and nigh-criminal application of 3D in recent movie history.  The story, like 2004’s The Spongbob Squarepants Movie, is about Krabby Patties, with a battle for their secret recipe between Spongebob, Mr. Krabs, Plankton and a live-action pirate played by a badly overacting and barely utilized Antonio Bandaras, which results in a trip outside of the underwater town of Bikini Bottom and into the real world, the latter of which is where that “Sponge Out Of Water” subtitle comes from.  Yet none of it gave me any joy, wonder or laughs, even on a zany, surrealistic, “make it up as we go along” level, as most of the situations feel like outtakes from the show and earlier film and even the self-referential jabs seemed perfunctory and on-the-nose, even though they were the only parts I liked (perhaps because they acknowledged how annoying Spongebob’s laugh is, made fun of the idea of false endings in films and showed us Spongebob’s mindset as even more of an insanely happy acid trip than Toontown from Who Framed Roger Rabbit was).  Also, the tone of this film is really off, bouncing between the happy-go-lucky insanity of Spongebob’s world and persona to mob rule with everyone in S&M gear getting ready to crush someone to death way too quickly and for no good reason, which made me feel really uneasy and felt like a cheap attempt to put something “edgy” in to not bore teenagers or adults, instead of actually making a zippy, brisk and knowing film that they could like, too.  As far as the whole “Sponge Out Of Water” bit, it’s a misnomer, as the scenes on land comprise not even a third of the movie, feel like outtakes from the first film (but without David Hasslehoff) and these scenes are the ONLY ones where there’s any 3D at all (and even if you go in 2D like I did, you can spot the 3D shots easily and they’re all of the lazy and poor “jump out at you” variety), meaning that you’re being greedily gouged for 3D for a film where most of it won’t have ANY 3D at all, as most of the film is traditional and admittingly sharp and colorful 2D animation. Seriously, paying for 3D and getting a mostly 2D movie is a new low and it only adds insult to the injury that is this movie, which is for hardcore Spongebob fans only (if that) with no crossover appeal whatsoever to the uninitiated and the Spongebob averse like myself.

 Tomorrowland

About 3 years ago, Pixar film director Andrew Stanton took a stab at directing a live-action Disney movie with John Carter, and results were so hideous and such a massive box office disaster that now, he’s basically been forced to sequelize his Finding Nemo in order to regain his deservedly lost credibility and faith in being able to make a hit for the House Of Mouse.  This year, Brad Bird, director of Ratatouille and The Incredibles, found himself in the exact same boat with Tomorrowland, his endless, anti-climactic, emotionally inert, self-satisfied and shockingly sour live-action take on the famous futuristic theme park area; it’s bad, it bombed and maybe Bird will find redemption with The Incredibles 2, but for now, he has to answer for this one.  To be fair, despite its narrative similarities to John Carter (namely, the plot about “the chosen one” being forced into fantasy-land to save it and the needless and stupid framing device), this film isn’t as bad as 2012’s 2nd worst film, because at least this one has some cool gizmos, production design and special effects (though they’re not all first-class, sadly) and I did like some of the performances here, namely, Hugh Laurie as the villain who gives a pretty unique and believable, yet on-the-nose in retrospect, explanation for his plot. The story is about a young girl with an interest in science and space travel (thanks to her father, who worked for NASA) who travels inadvertently to Tomorrowland and, when she learns too much about it, she’s on the run with George Clooney to go back there to find an ageless girl who can help save it from peril, a concept that calls to mind (and is clearly paying homage to) some of the zippier 1960s/1970s live-action Disney efforts mixed with nostalgia for the attraction, and, given that setup, this certainly sounds like it had the potential to be a fun romp.  Unfortunately, this is one of those movies that’s constantly running around and tossing all its action, story exposition and themes at us in a way that gives us a sense that a lot is happening, but never makes us feel like ANYTHING meaningful is actually transpiring and that, along with its whiplash tonal shifts, made it impossible for me to care about any of the characters or anything in the plot.  Also, the lead girl in the movie is a flat and uninteresting protagonist, every twist and turn can be called a few scenes before they happen, some of the undertones of this movie are poorly handled and really come off as irreverently uncomfortable, especially the bond between Clooney and the girl from Tomorrowland, given that he grew up and she didn’t, and the film drags terribly.  Seriously, the movie is a little over 2 hours, but its awful pacing made it feel like 3 and had me saying "for the love of God, end already" (and even when it does finally end, it basically just stops, without any satisfying closure). It’s also worth mentioning how gruesome the violence in this movie is; yes, this IS a PG-rated Disney film and no, there’s no blood, but there’s a lot of violence aimed at the young girls in this one, which the film lovingly relishes in with the sound design and direction, we see the humanoid robot soldiers killing innocent civilians by disintegrating them and the heroes destroy the soldiers by decapitating, dismembering, electrocuting and impaling them.  Seriously, Mad Max: Fury Road got an R for showing less graphic violence than that; how can a film like this (and, for that matter, Pan) get a PG? I guess that’s the studio system for you; a big name like Disney can basically pay the MPAA under the table (or perhaps, do something else under the table) to get an objectionable content roadmap for the rating they want (which is how it works). So, yeah, I wouldn’t put kids in front of this, but don’t worry; they’re not missing much anyway.

Hey guys, the Oscars are in a few days, so you know what that means; it’s time for my annual rundown of the nominees, where I tell you what I think should win in all of the categories and what I think will take home the glory on Sunday.  I always love doing this write-up, because it gives me a chance to discuss some films that I might not have been able to talk about in my 10 Best list (such as Mr. Turner,which finally came to my town last week and is now under my belt) and talk about some in different contexts that I might not have previously covered(after all, though I may like certain films over others, elaborating further on specific aspects to pick a favorite, such as editing, cinematography and music, often results in me choosing things that people sometimes don’t expect).  Also, with it being the last and ultimate representation of the year’s movie offerings, it allows me to reflect on the strong movie year of 2014 before bidding it farewell and officially beginning to look forward to where the cinema will take us in 2015.  So with that said, let’s get down to business: 

Best Picture: 

American Sniper

Birdman

Boyhood

The Grand Budapest Hotel

The Imitation Game

Selma

The Theory of Everything

Whiplash 

What Should Win: This is a really easy call for me because, unlike last year, I think there’s only one great movie up for Best Picture.  Yeah, I said it; the nominees for this year’s best movie are not really the cream of the crop.  OK, I did really like, but not love, Selma and Birdman, Imitation Game and The Grand Budapest Hotel had some good strengths, but are overrated, American Sniper was a very near miss (but honestly, if it won, I’d be happy about that, if only to see the heads of the zealots who slandered the film and claimed to know what it said and represented without having seen it explode), Whiplash was less of a near miss and The Theory Of Everything is the worst and most despicable Best Picture nominee in years (if you want to see all the reasons why I think that, then I suggest checking out my 2014 worst of the year list here: http://captainditrag.tumblr.com/post/106442126279/the-worst-movies-of-2014). So that just leaves Boyhood, which was also my best movie of 2014 (see my best of the year write-up here to get a better idea of why: http://captainditrag.tumblr.com/post/110698167944/the-best-movies-of-2014). And speaking of that… What Will Win: What’s this? My best film of the year is actually going to be the one that wins Best Picture?  That hasn’t happened since Crash, but, after sitting back and watching Up, Black Swan, The Descendants, Zero Dark Thirty and Her get nominated but not win the award, it’s gonna happen this time.  Yes, I know Birdman and The Grand Budapest Hotel have been getting a bump recently, but even they don’t seem to have the staying power that Boyhood still shows, even with it now out on DVD/Blu-Ray, and even after it being in the national consciousness since last July. OK, so The Grand Budapest Hotel is still being discussed after its release last March, but even it’s not getting as talked about as much as Boyhood is, so I think the field is clear for Richard Linklater’s masterpiece to take the top prize, and deservedly so. 

Best Director: 

Alexandro G. Iñárritu, Birdman

Richard Linklater, Boyhood

Bennett Miller, Foxcatcher

Wes Anderson, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Morten Tyldum, The Imitation Game 

What Should Win: I guess this should be a no-brainer for me, because Richard Linklater is the director of my favorite picture, Boyhood, so by that extension, I feel he should get Best Director, as well.  Actually, it’s not just that; I think how Linklater directed Boyhood is certainly the most interesting and exciting direction of the nominees that are up (not that any of the others did a bad job), particularly how he handles showing us the passage of time without title cards and relying on our attention to character and pop culture details of the time and our ability to spot them to understand where the film currently is.  That finds an interesting balance of making the film feel obsessively and dedicatedly planned out while also simultaneously feeling wonderfully loose and relaxed, the latter of which is kind of Linklater’s style, and it really keeps us invested in this story of Mason and his family.  So, Linklater should get this. What Will Win: The usual rule is that the winner of Best Picture wins Best Director (and vice versa), but that hasn’t been the case for the past two years. Argo and 12 Years A Slave won Best Picture without winning Best Director, so some might think there’ll be a threepeat of that this year, but I don’t.  Wes Anderson is a dark horse here, but again, what Richard Linklater brought to Boyhood has gotten so much respect and celebration that it’s hard to see him not winning.  He was able to take what sounded like a easily marketable cinematic stunt (shooting a film over 12 years to let us see the character grow up in front of us) and transformed it into something indelible and wonderful that never let its technique distract us from the narrative.  Even Birdman couldn’t do that with its faux-one shot take, at least for me (more on that in the Cinematography category) and that, and the rest of the industry responding to the film’s craft, makes me say that Linklater will take this one home. 

Best Actor: 

Steve Carell, Foxcatcher

Bradley Cooper, American Sniper

Benedict Cumberbatch, The Imitation Game

Michael Keaton, Birdman

Eddie Redmayne, The Theory of Everything 

What Should Win: This is a really hard one because most of these performances are quite good.  Obviously, I think Eddie Redmayne shouldn’t have been nominated for The Theory of Everything, but I have to admit that he was trying his damnedest to make that film work and, though his slot could have and should have gone to Jake Gyllenhaal in Nightcrawler (or if not him, Timothy Spall in Mr. Turner), Redmayne’s role, quite fittingly, fought back against the horribleness of the movie it was in, so there is that.  The others are beyond reproach for me and though I respect them in their specific ways (unlike The Fifth Estate, Cumberbatch showed us the right way to act in a biopic about a technological obsessive/closeted homosexual in The Imitation Game and Carell and Cooper showed me new sides to them in Foxcatcher and American Sniper, respectively), I’m going to vote for Michael Keaton here.  There’s an infectious and memorable effortlessness to his performance as Riggan in Birdman, showing us a smart and darkly humorous, but troubled man who’s putting everything he has on the line, not to mention the fact that Keaton had to be on his game with every line at every moment with the faux one-shot cinematography and he is.  Also, there’s a self-reflexive streak to Keaton’s performance (as supported by, but not bound by, the narrative) that is interesting and gives this character a unique sincerity and poignancy that I’m not sure we would have gotten out of any other actor. Along with acting talent, the sense of a performer being irreplaceable in a role they give is a strong and difficult thing to give off, but Keaton does, and he’s my choice to win here.

What Will Win: The above description of what should win also applies to the reasons why Michael Keaton will win the Best Actor prize for Birdman.  Not much else to say, really. 

Best Actress: 

Marion Cotillard, Two Days One Night

Felicity Jones, The Theory of Everything

Julianne Moore, Still Alice

Rosamund Pike, Gone Girl

Reese Witherspoon, Wild 

What Should Win: I didn’t see Two Days One Night, so I can’t be as complete in picking a personal choice here, but I did see the others.  As I said with the Best Actor nod that came out of The Theory Of Everything, Felicity Jones’ nomination here doesn’t completely make me mad, if only because she was really trying to sell that manipulative trash to us, but even then, she’s not good enough to make me want her to win for that or celebrate if she does (she’s no Mercedes Ruehl in The Fisher King, for example).  Picking from the other three, though, is tough. Rosamund Pike shows a level of complexity and deliciously Hitchcockian icy twistedness in Gone Girl, Reese Witherspoon opens herself up physically and emotionally like we’ve never seen before in mostly dramatic fashion, but also, at times, in assured and relatably humorous fashion in Wild and Julianne Moore quietly, but effectively shows us the psychology and, eventually, degradation of her title character in Still Alice from early onset Alzheimer’s disease.  It’s a toss-up between Witherspoon and Moore here, as I admired and personally related to both performances and the movies they were in, but I’m going to edge ever so slightly towards Witherspoon here.  She brings such vast and deeply resonant emotional depth to Cheryl Strayed in Wild that really surprised me, especially based on what I thought the movie and her character would be.  I have to say, going into Wild, I did not think I would have personally connected to the film and Cheryl as much as I did (after all, I’m no hiker, current/former heroin addict or poetry enthusiast), but Witherspoon, as the face of the movie, was a big factor in helping to make that bond for me (along with the strong writing, direction and supporting performance by Laura Dern as Cheryl’s mother).  I will admit that’s not really a fair reason to pick Witherspoon, as Moore’s Alice is, by her nature, less able to be as wide-ranged with her emotions, but I’m not at all putting down Moore here, as I (not quite as surprisingly as Wild) related to that film and performance quite deeply, too, given that I have a close family member with Alzheimer’s (and I know friends who do, too), and she gets the effects of that disease so perfectly and painfully right, but still finds ways to surprise us with how she plays the character.  Still, I say Witherspoon by a hair, but Moore would be a fine second choice to win. Which reminds me…

What Will Win: Julianne Moore is easily going to win this award for her turn in Still Alice. In my what should win section, I laid out why she’s so good in this movie and would be a worthy winner and the buzz and respect for this performance is another factor that will lead her to the Oscar on Sunday.  That, and amazingly, she hasn’t won an Oscar yet (in fact, she hasn’t even been nominated for anything since her sublime turn in the great Far From Heaven from 2002), so I think this is Moore’s time and I won’t be complaining about her winning for this strong role. 

Best Supporting Actor: 

Robert Duvall, The Judge

Ethan Hawke, Boyhood

Edward Norton, Birdman

Mark Ruffalo, Foxcatcher

J.K. Simmons, Whiplash 

What Should Win: Five good supporting actor performances, two of which are good, but actively torpedoed by their movies’ problems (that would be J.K. Simmons, due to how jaw-droppingly unbelievable the purportedly grounded Whiplash ends up, and Robert Duvall, who was just used as awards bait anyway for The Judge to give that awful film legitimacy it doesn’t deserve).  The other three performances are great, making for another tough choice. Mark Ruffalo was almost unrecognizable and quite effective in Foxcatcher as David Shultz, the dedicated and strongly supportive brother to wrestler Mark Shultz and Edward Norton is intriguing, twistedly funny and, often, just twisted as the hotshot emergency understudy actor in Birdman, but even with that being said, Ethan Hawke as Mason and Samantha’s biological father in Boyhood is my standout.  The arc of this character over the 12 year period that covers Boyhood really took me by surprise (as was the case with every character in that family that wasn’t Mason), showing a father who’s not around that really bucks the cliché of him being viewed as a simplistic and horrible provider. For sure, he made bad decisions he needs to live with and, especially for his children, address, and seeing the journey that life has for him shows us his learning from his mistakes and growing as a man and Hawke is up to the task at every step.  We see him making jokes and giving us really funny situations (especially that scene in the car where he tries to force conversion by his children as to what’s been going on in their lives or his gift of music to Mason for a birthday; that’s all I’ll say about that), but they still have a ring of authenticity in the situations and to who this man is, and they dovetail beautifully with his late film growth, including a new relationship and also a great scene and talk in the kitchen with his former wife.  I really feel like I know and connect to this character just like I did with everyone in this movie, and Hawke deserves a lot of credit, not to mention my choice for him to win Best Supporting Actor, for adding to the depth and poignancy of Boyhood through his excellent performance.   What Will Win: As far as who will win this award, I’m thinking it’s going to be J.K. Simmons for Whiplash.  This film was pretty beloved by critics when it first came out, but it seems the only constantly enduring thing about the movie has been J.K. Simmons’ fierce and focused turn as the jazz instructor who makes his students’ lives as musicians a living hell in his attempt to get the best performances out of them.  To be sure, Simmons is memorable and fiery here but the film’s script, ironically, keeps him from living up to his potential, because the character really doesn’t have much of an arc to speak of when all is said and done and the movie completely lacks the credibility that it keeps trying to convince us it has, which hurts Simmons as a result.  Like Leonardo DeCaprio in The Wolf Of Wall Street last year, Simmons gave it his all in Whiplash and deserves no blame for its refusal to hold up its end of the bargain to assist him.  Even so, because of the performance, its resonance and the fact that the Academy likes giving supporting awards to actors who play harsh characters (see also, Mo’Nique in Precious, though that film did a far better job of helping her performance shine), J.K. Simmons will win. 

Best Supporting Actress: 

Patricia Arquette, Boyhood

Laura Dern, Wild

Keira Knightley, The Imitation Game

Emma Stone, Birdman

Meryl Streep, Into the Woods 

What Should Win: These are five really good supporting roles for women this year.  Laura Dern was wonderfully winning in Wild (and I was pleasantly surprised she got up for it), Keira Knightley was quite good in The Imitation Game (though if I were to nominate her for acting in anything from 2014, it would be for Begin Again, where she was even better), Emma Stone turned in her best role of the year BY FAR in Birdman (but when your other films were Magic In The Moonlight and The Amazing Spider-Man 2, that’s not too hard to do) and even Meryl Streep was strong in Into The Woods, which is honestly her first nominated performance since Julie & Julia that makes me not think that she’s getting away with and being rewarded for slumming it.  With all that said, I have to go with Patricia Arquette here; the focus and depth she brings to Boyhood as the mother of Mason and Samantha is irreplaceable.  I was seeing a real mother on that screen balancing between taking care of her children and attempting to find herself romantically and professionally in between, and Arquette shows us the highs and lows that she goes through in the process with confidence, resonance and aplomb.  For that, she definitely deserves to win for this. What Will Win: As good and celebrated as all these nominees have been, Patricia Arquette has been the favorite here for a long time and there’s not a single doubt in my mind that she will be up on that stage accepting the Best Supporting Actress award on Oscar night. If, for some crazy reason, I’m calling this wrong, I hope Laura Dern takes it, but I really don’t think I will be wrong. 

Best Cinematography: 

Emmanuel Lubezki, Birdman

Robert Yeoman, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Lukasz Zal and Ryszard Lenczewski, Ida

Dick Pope, Mr. Turner

Roger Deakins, Unbroken 

What Should Win: I can only talk about three of these films, because I missed Unbroken when it was out and I don’t think Ida even came to town for me (unless I’m forgetting). Still, there’s a lot to talk about with Birdman, The Grand Budapest Hotel and Mr. Turner’s cinematography.  Robert Yeoman for Grand Budapest showcases its meticulous art direction through its camerawork work quite well, which does get us into that world, Emmanuel Lubezki in Birdman mirrors Hitchcock’s Rope from the 1940s in giving us a sense of one unbroken take (unlike, say, Russian Ark from 2002, which actually was one take), ala a stage performance, and Dick Pope for Mr. Turner occasionally showcases vast landscapes by cross-cutting between or setting them up to look like J.M.W Turner’s paintings and often, just lets the camera sit to allow us to intimately look at the 19th century British painter and become engrossed in his surroundings.  I have to say, even though it’s the film that most people haven’t seen, I’m voting for Mr. Turner here.  Dick Pope did a fantastic job of shooting this for director Mike Leigh and, just like both did with Secrets & Lies in 1996 (it’s out of print, but worth the search, especially since I don’t know if the Criterion Collection will ever give it their treatment), the idea of keeping the camera still to let us know the characters works in way great cinematography should, by providing a reflection of the narrative style and also, being interesting from a visual perspective.  Birdman did that, too, but even though it’s totally justified for what it was doing, I still kind of felt that part of its cinematography was a stunt.  Not so with Mr. Turner, so it wins in my mind. What Will Win: And sadly, my mind is the only place Dick Pope and Mr. Turner will win, because they’re not winning this award.  That being said, I’m not upset about it exactly, and, even with my misgivings, Emmanuel Lubezki, who is winning here for Birdman, was quite gutsy in pulling of that faux one-shot illusion and he does deserve the praise he’s gotten for doing it as well as he did.  Let’s face it; all the time you’re watching this movie, you think to yourself exactly what lead character Riggan often does; “man, this could end up being a total disaster.”  But somehow, it still comes out well, even though I personally got distracted and pulled out by the technique at times.  For that, Lubezki will win and he can ready the Oscar he won for Gravity last year to get some imminent and permanent company on his shelf. 

Best Foreign Language Film: 

Ida, Poland

Leviathan, Russia

Tangerines, Estonia

Timbuktu, Mauritania

Wild Tales, Argentina 

What Should Win: OK, I guess I’m a xenophobe, because, just like last year, I didn’t see any of the foreign film nominees.  But honestly, it’s not completely my fault, because none of these came around me and, of the foreign films I saw this year, they weren’t up.  So sorry, but I have to recuse myself from saying what should win here. Maybe I’ll do it right next year. What Will Win: OK, so I can’t say what should win, but I will say what will.  I’ve heard great things about Leviathan, Ida and Timbuktu specifically, but the most buzz I’ve heard and the longest lasting of it has been to Ida. I’ve heard from film critics and even movie fans I know who saw this and loved it and, I guess it’s worth pointing out that it’s the only nominee here that got nominated for something else (the cinematography).  Not a whole lot to go on as to why, but I’m going to call Ida as the winner here. 

Best Adapted Screenplay: 

American Sniper, Jason Hall

The Imitation Game, Graham Moore

Inherent Vice, Paul Thomas Anderson

The Theory of Everything, Anthony McCarten

Whiplash, Damien Chazelle 

What Should Win: OK, so this is an interesting set of nominees.  Most of these are based on books except for Whiplash, which is based on the short subject by Damien Chazelle that he then expanded to feature length.  I only recommended two of the films here and for me, I’d pick Paul Thomas Anderson’s screenplay for Inherent Vice.  This is the first movie adaptation of a work from novelist Thomas Pynchon and, based on what I know of him from a friend who admires him, he has a loose and sprawling style, which I’d say was a perfect fit for Paul Thomas Anderson, who often brings that same vibe to his films and indeed, did so here.  There’s something quite intoxicating and memorable about the script of this film, the crazy characters we meet, the mystery plot about lead character Doc’s missing girlfriend and a real-estate mogul in 1970 California, and the film’s aura that causes us to drift in and out of this narrative for quite a good reason, namely, as a reflection of Doc’s drug-addled perspective.  OK, so we’ve seen that tactic in other films (Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas is an obvious comparison), but the feeling this film exudes on us is quite unique, in that we feel like our minds are scrambled and we forget details from earlier in the film (and for once, we have a movie where that’s a positive), but somehow, this movie’s story, characters and themes still somehow seem structurally clear, along with giving us socially aware and relevant mystery/film noir story with some pretty great laughs and wonderfully bizarre and/or erotic moments. I will say that, like Anderson’s Magnolia from 1999, less would have been more here (particularly the last half hour, which falls flat due to its inability to keep the Pynchonian and Andersonian atmosphere that the film otherwise maintains going), but even then, it’s probably the point of this screenplay that it’s not supposed to be perfect which, in a roundabout way, perhaps kind of makes it perfect for what it’s doing.  That, and of these nominees, Inherent Vice did have the most interesting, ambitious and original script (especially true for those last two), so I’d pick Paul Thomas Anderson to win this.

What Will Win: Paul Thomas Anderson is as mainstream an experimental filmmaker there is, which means that he’s the only one the Academy usually lets anywhere near their 87 year old institution, but it’s usually just for show, as they don’t give him any awards.  On the other hand, you could make the argument that, “well, Her was ambitious and strange last year, and it won Best Original Screenplay, so maybe they’ll keep the trend going for Adapted Screenplay this year.”  Even so, I don’t Anderson wins here and I’m going to guess that Anthony McCarten takes it for The Theory of Everything, much to my dismay. Listen, McCarten didn’t exactly write a bad script for that movie, but I think it’s missing some obvious pieces of information that would help us under Stephen Hawking, his wife and especially his children better, or understand how he could possibly still be alive today when the movie tells us that he had 2 years left after his diagnosis.  You know your movie’s in trouble when that’s an explicit point that the movie never addresses and I have to rely on my mom to tell me, “yeah, he survived by having great doctors all throughout,” which even then the movie directly and incorrectly contradicts.  But I’m not meaning to reiterate my thoughts on the movie too much and, that aside, there’s enough talk and societal importance to this story that points to Anthony McCarten winning this award. 

Best Original Screenplay: 

Birdman, Alejandro G. Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Jr. & Armando Bo

Boyhood, Richard Linklater

Foxcatcher, E. Max Frye and Dan Futterman

The Grand Budapest Hotel, Wes Anderson & Hugo Guinness

Nightcrawler, Dan Gilroy 

What Should Win: Boyhood was my favorite film of 2014, so I’m going to say it should win Best Original Screenplay, right?  Not so fast. You see, my #2 film of 2014, Nightcrawler, was nominated here, too, and, sadly, it’s also the only one given to this engrossing and terrifying masterpiece.  In fact, I’m going to throw a curveball here; I’m calling for Dan Gilroy to win this for Nightcrawler.  Yeah, I know it’s not going to win and I’m not taking anything away from how wonderfully written and natural the screenplay of Boyhood is, but that film is going to clean up on Oscar night as it is, so I want to put more attention on Nightcrawler.  I loved this movie so much and, of the many, many reasons why, a significant one is the script from Dan Gilroy (who also directed, and in a directorial debut, no less).  He takes a story that could have been just an exploitative and played out exercise about the decadence and destruction of our culture when it comes to local TV news, the media and criminality connected to all three and imbues it with new life and unique and intelligent insights that help the movie intrigue us, scare us, and enhance the first class (but sadly, not nominated) performances as it builds towards its exquisite third act that uses its topics and players to set us up for multiple unforgettable and perversely wonderful cinematic gut-punches that are pretty much guaranteed to elicit exclamations of “holy [insert profanity of your choice here]” in the audience.  Also, this is a film about the media and Los Angeles that actually knows what it’s talking about regarding both topics, especially as we see real LA newscasters, playing themselves here, commentating on graphic footage they run, or lead character Louis Bloom chewing out his assistant for not reading the traffic reports to know that, when driving, especially in LA and especially to get the footage they’re after, hitting the major roads during rush hour are a death sentence, in more ways than one.  The other nominees are well-written, too and have the attention to detail and intrigue they’re going for, but there’s something so special and indelible about Gilroy’s script for Nightcrawler that I have to vote for it. What Will Win: Not Nightcrawler, that’s for sure. Actually, with the exception of that and Foxcatcher, this award is up in the air, most likely between Boyhood and The Grand Budapest Hotel.  I may be wrong on this one, but I’m feeling Grand Budapest winning this, as many people have talked up the swiftness and natural tonal transitions of this movie (though I strongly disagree with the latter one, especially compared to something like Hayao Miyazaki’s The Wind Rises, which also followed an idealistic male lead whose story had the dark cloud of Nazism and World War II hovering over it).  Also, considering how many awards Boyhood’s likely going to win, I know the Academy usually likes to spread around some of the awards to other films that have gotten praise, of which The Grand Budapest Hotel certainly is one of (for example, Her was also widely liked last year and deservedly won this very award), so I say its screenplay wins. 

Best Makeup and Hairstyling: 

Bill Corso and Dennis Liddiard, Foxcatcher

Frances Hannon and Mark Coulier, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Elizabeth Yianni-Georgiou and David White, Guardians of the Galaxy 

What Should Win: Wait a second.  The makeup category this year has nominees that all actually make sense?!  Amazingly yes, and we don’t have any Norbit-level abnormalities (or in the case of that movie, atrocities) in sight for 2014, which I greatly appreciate.  Some people may say Foxcatcher sounds like a weird choice, but it does make sense, especially for creating the emaciated look of John du Pont (especially that nose of his).  As far as which one I’d choose, I think I’d pick Guardians Of The Galaxy.  It’s kind of interesting because, of these three movies, that’s the only one I didn’t like (and I know people have hated me for that since Guardians came out in August), but I have to admit that the film looked great and the makeup used to reflect these characters was unique and memorable and blended quite well with the CG creations of Groot and Rocket who technically, didn’t need makeup (though that makes me think that maybe this is something of a cross-section between the quality of the CG and makeup, since they looked great, too).  There’s also a nice and cool simplicity to how Starlord was made up in this film and how even he stands out with a distinct look, even amongst his more uniquely appearing comrades, which is quite a statement.  So, I’d pick Guardians for this award. What Will Win: Yeah, Guardians Of The Galaxy looks nice, but it may not have the prestige that the Academy often looks for when it comes to giving out awards (though that’s not to say I agree with that tendency of theirs).  On that basis, I’m going to say that The Grand Budapest Hotel gets this award, especially since that was also a film with makeup that stood out (probably more than the others with its frequent tight shots and close-ups on the faces of the characters) and it also was of a piece of its more fanciful but more grounded look at the end of 1930s European excess and idealism.  I think those things are going to appeal to Oscar voters more than the outer space/sci-fi milieu of Guardians, so I call Grand Budapest getting makeup. 

Best Original Score: 

Alexandre Desplat from The Grand Budapest Hotel

Alexandre Desplat from The Imitation Game

Hans Zimmer from Interstellar

Gary Yershon from Mr. Turner

Jóhann Jóhannsson from The Theory of Everything 

What Should Win: Listen, I know Alexandre Desplat has made some great music scores over the years and should win an Oscar at some time, but isn’t it overkill to nominate him twice in the same year to try and get him a win (and shouldn’t that be against Oscar rules)?  That being said, I don’t care about Desplat or anyone else in this category because the only music score here that matters to me comes from Gary Yershon for Mr. Turner and it’s my clear choice to win.  It does what a music score should do; it supports the atmosphere and aura of the movie, sounds of high quality and doesn’t overpower the narrative or painfully underline everything it’s trying to say or make us feel.  Yes, there are some bombastic moments in Yershon’s score, but they’re still of a piece with where they occur and the film provides contrast between those sections, the scenes with softer tones and even those with no music at all.  I certainly can’t say that about Hans Zimmer’s score in Interstellar and I hate Jóhann Jóhannsson’s score from The Theory of Everything with every inch of my being and for doing all of the things to that movie’s story that I loved Yershon for not doing to Mr. Turner.  As far as Desplat goes, I don’t remember his scores from The Grand Budapest Hotel or The Imitation Game at all, though I guess that’s an improvement over his terribly intrusive score for Philomena that he was nominated for last year, but that just underlines my main point; Gary Yershon should win this for Mr. Turner by far.

What Will Win: It’s sadly not going to be what I want it to be, because Mr. Turner hasn’t been widely seen or discussed on any awards level, let alone for its music (it even surprisingly got mostly ignored at the BAFTAs).  I could be a jerk by saying Desplat without specifying which movie I think he’ll get it for to ensure I still call this category correctly, but I’ll say he’ll get it for The Grand Budapest Hotel.  As I said, he hasn’t won yet and I do remember people liking his score in that film, perhaps more than the one in The Imitation Game, and there is more buzz around Grand Budapest as a film, so I’ll say that.  I also, sadly, have heard talk about Jóhannsson having a shot for The Theory Of Everything, but I refuse to accept that (and that’ll certainly be the case if he wins), while still thinking Desplat’s getting it for Grand Budapest this time. 

Best Original Song: 

“Everything Is Awesome” from The Lego Movie; Music and Lyric by Shawn Patterson

“Glory” from Selma; Music and Lyric by John Stephens and Lonnie Lynn

“Grateful” from Beyond the Lights; Music and Lyric by Diane Warren

“I’m Not Gonna Miss You” from Glen Campbell…I’ll Be Me; Music and Lyric by Glen Campbell and Julian Raymond

“Lost Stars” from Begin Again; Music and Lyric by Gregg Alexander and Danielle Brisebois 

What Should Win: All these songs are pretty good (though I didn’t see the films that two of them came out of, specifically, Beyond The Lights and Glen Campbell…I’ll Be Me), but there’s one that really stands out to me.  No, it’s not Everything Is Awesome (though it is awesome), but Lost Stars from Begin Again.  I loved this movie and its music (I go into that more in my 10 Best list, where I had this film as my #9 selection) and I was happily surprised when it got a song nomination because this film had some really great songs.  Of all of those, Lost Stars is probably the most important one to the movie, as it’s the song that Kiera Knightley’s character writes with her ex-boyfriend (played by Adam Levine of Maroon 5) and throughout the movie, we hear both of them sing and perform their different renditions of the song that reflect their musical styles and also, serve the dramatic purpose of underscoring the rift in their relationship and especially her disdain of his take on the song for more reasons than just the emotional connection between them that’s now gone. It’s really an interesting dynamic and it also gives a good reason to hear the same song twice, while also underscoring the themes of the music creation process and perspective explored by the movie.  Along with that, it’s just well-made and infectious music, written by Danielle Brisebois and Gregg Alexander from The New Radicals, all of which makes Lost Stars the Best Original Song that I’d choose to win in this category. What Will Win: Glory from Selma.  Listen, after the outrage over Selma only getting two nominations, including Best Picture, the Academy has basically been intimidated into giving it something, lest they find themselves in the ironic position of being called bigger racists than they’re already being labelled as (which I say because there’s no evidence to prove that Selma was kept out due to racism and the people screaming “sexist” and “racist” over its lack of nominations are bigger examples of both than the Academy members they’re attacking), and as such, the win will be for the song.  That being said, that’s not to say that the win is going to be a bad one, because Glory does fit the movie and is well-made on its own (and hey, I’ll be honest; the best award Lost Stars is getting is the fact that it was nominated in the first place).  However, I’m someone who’s willing to call a spade a spade and, along with the song’s quality, there’s no denying the aforementioned outside factor is going to be a significant reason it gets the award.   

Best Animated Feature:

Big Hero 6

The Boxtrolls

How to Train Your Dragon 2

Song of the Sea

The Tale of The Princess Kaguya 

What Should Win: OK, so many people are mad The Lego Movie isn’t up for Best Animated Film, but I see it a little differently.  Honestly, I’m angrier at it not getting up because it gave undeserved legitimacy to The Boxtrolls, which got a free pass for its pretty, hand crafted Claymation look and nothing else.  Also, though I did quite like The Lego Movie, I didn’t love it like everyone else did (maybe part of it is because I saw it 3D, which made the background in-jokes impossible to discern and, to my knowledge, no one dared call the movie out for botching the 3D that badly) and actually, I’m glad it got snubbed, if only because it means the way has been better paved for my preference to have a better chance of winning.  That movie is How To Train Your Dragon 2, the joyous, beautiful, entertaining and touching follow-up to the 2010 film that equaled that masterpiece in every way. In fact,  not counting Song Of The Sea (which I didn’t see), this was easily the best animated film of the year and better than all the other nominees. Yeah, I enjoyed Big Hero 6, but it peaked too early for me and The Tale of The Princess Kaguya, which is probably the next best film here, had all the ingredients that you’d think would be enough for me to call it a 4-star film, but due to “a certain… I don’t know what,” it never quite translated into that for me, which was a surprise, given that its director, Isao Takahata, has made many great anime films in the past, most notably the devastating and great Grave Of The Fireflies.  Either way, How To Train Your Dragon 2 is easily my choice for this category and if you want a further rundown as to why, check out my best of 2014 list here (http://captainditrag.tumblr.com/post/110698167944/the-best-movies-of-2014), where I let it all hang out to greatly explain every reason why this film is so wonderful. What Will Win: Without The Lego Movie, it’s now a two picture race between Big Hero 6 and How To Train Your Dragon 2, but something tells me the latter will take the win.  Big Hero 6 did get a lot of attention and affection when it released in November, but it seems like it’s cooled down a bit since then and, given that The Lego Movie wasn’t nominated, it suggests that the Academy isn’t interested in animated films with modern themes and topics (you can also toss in Wreck It Ralph as further evidence of that theory, since it lost two years ago to the more traditional Brave).  By that standard, that could open up Song Of The Sea, The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya and, God forbid, The Boxtrolls, but those former two are foreign efforts that Oscar rarely recognizes in this category (barring Spirited Away and Wallace & Gromit: The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit) and the latter has all but been forgotten, despite Laika’s recent push to remind people “hey, we hand-made this!” Yeah? Well, you should have also hand-made some reasons for us to give a damn.  Either way, How To Train Your Dragon 2 will win and, assuming I’m calling this right, I will be overjoyed to see it happen. 

Best Documentary Short: 

Crisis Hotline: Veterans Press 1        

Joanna

Our Curse

The Reaper

White Earth 

What Should Win: This is the first of a few categories I will not be able to make a personal judgment call on because I didn’t see any of these.  Sorry. What Will Win: Along with being the first of the categories I can’t say what should win due to my not seeing the nominees, this is also the first category with a shot in the dark of a who will win prediction. Crisis Hotline: Veterans Press 1 is what I’m going to say gets this, especially since there’s been enough talk about needing to better help our Veterans after war this year, what with the VA scandal still in our memories and American Sniper reopening that discussion (which was also probably the only outside discussion that it even made sense to tie to that picture). 

Best Film Editing: 

Joel Cox and Gary D. Roach, American Sniper

Sandra Adair, Boyhood

Barney Pilling, The Grand Budapest Hotel

William Goldenberg, The Imitation Game

Tom Cross, Whiplash 

What Should Win: I didn’t recommend Whiplash or American Sniper, but I certainly think their editing was quite good, effectively reflecting a dedicated drummer bouncing around with his emotions more than the vibrations coming off his drum kit and a soldier’s loud external and quiet internal struggles on the battlefield that are noticeably reversed in him after returning home, respectively. I actually think they did a better job at editing than two films I recommended, The Imitation Game (which used the jagged narrative structure for no justifiable reason, unlike, say, Wild) and The Grand Budapest Hotel (which had no noticeably special editing, either good or bad, to me).  I’m mentioning those to clear the air for Boyhood, which is my clear choice to win for editing.  This film had to move through the various points of the 12 year period it’s covering and make us be able to quickly determine where we are and do so without using subtitles to tell us (which, by the way, I love this movie for not using, especially because it uses pop cultural and social touchstones of the time periods to announce each time period) and without taking us out of the moment when we see how these characters have noticeably grown in appearance since the last scene and the editing of this movie does all of those things beautifully.  Also, even though the movie is going from multiple locations and points in time throughout, the rhythm of the editing matches the relaxed nature of the movie, in its perspective of viewing these characters in the moments of their lives, while, at the end, also giving us a sense of just how important and unforgettable those times and memories we’ve absorbed were, but also, how fleeting they were. That’s quite an accomplishment, especially for a movie that, in all honesty, didn’t exactly need editing this good to still make it work and, for going above and beyond and supporting the film so much in doing so, the editing of Boyhood gets my vote. What Will Win: This is a pretty tough one to predict the winner of, because I can imagine any of these five winning it, but I’m going to guess that Whiplash takes it.  As I said, the editing of this film does a very good job of reflecting lead character Miles Teller’s internal and external struggles as being the best drummer at any cost, but it also has a great rhythm to it that is analogous to the nature of professional and aspiring musicians.  This is the one place where I actually agree with the majority critical opinion on this picture, which has been nearly universal in saying how memorable and unique the editing on display is.  Furthermore, I feel that Whiplash is the kind of critically acclaimed film that won’t get tons of awards, but is also a movie that the Academy respects enough to throw a few bones to here and there, and I think the editing category is one such place where it’ll happen this year, and Whiplash will benefit from it. 

Best Production Design: 

The Grand Budapest Hotel, Production Design: Adam Stockhausen; Set Decoration: Anna Pinnock

The Imitation Game, Production Design: Maria Djurkovic; Set Decoration: Tatiana Macdonald

Interstellar, Production Design: Nathan Crowley; Set Decoration: Gary Fettis

Into the Woods, Production Design: Dennis Gassner; Set Decoration: Anna Pinnock

Mr. Turner, Production Design: Suzie Davies; Set Decoration: Charlotte Watts 

What Should Win: I liked the production design of all of these films, but as well-executed and supportive of each movie’s auras and goals as they each were, there was something quite special about how it was handled in Mr. Turner.  OK, so the film is on-point to the details, landmarks and sense of time and place of 19th century England (and, in the opening scene, Holland), which you could certainly say about the other movies, too, but the way that those elements were intertwined with the perspective of Turner’s art made it stand out.  Just like the cinematography, the production design had multiple moments where it intersects with the paintings we see and, along with blending seamlessly with the natural beauty of the beaches, mountainsides and hillsides, the design of the sets and the muted color palate used for them (and, for that matter, the entire movie) also serve as an intriguing and transporting contrast between Turner’s art and the look and feel of the world surrounding their creation, and in a way that goes far beyond merely accurately capturing an over 200 year old point in history.  As far as a historical drama goes, especially one set in the United Kingdom, that’s a technique that struck me as surprisingly innovative, memorable and deserving of my utmost gratitude and respect, so I’m picking Mr. Turner as my choice here. What Will Win: The Grand Budapest Hotel. I think this is a pretty easy call, because this movie has been widely praised for the meticulously colorful and whimsical look that helps stamp it as a Wes Anderson film, but also for its visual transition from its confectionary look at the hotel to the darker and more ominous cloud of European fascism that has a look and feel of something Jean Renoir (Grand Illusion) would have made.  I think that contrast, as well as the fact that there’s been so much admiration and love for this movie on every level, is going to help it get a couple of awards and I say the production design is one of them.   

Best Animated Short: 

The Bigger Picture

The Dam Keeper

Feast

Me and My Moulton

A Single Life 

What Should Win: I only saw one animated short for 2014, so I guess it wins my what should win category by default.  It’s Feast, the Disney animated short that played before Big Hero 6 and showed the life of a dog with a desire to eat the tastiest foods with his kind of slob of an owner.  More than anything about this one, I liked the look and animation here; it kind of seemed like a mixture of roto-scoping and pencil drawings, ala Paperman (albeit with more color) and it certainly gave it a distinct and memorable look.  I don’t know if I’d say Feast is as good as some of the best Disney shorts of recent years like Paperman and The Ballad of Nessie, or some of the great recent Pixar shorts like La Luna and Presto, but Feast was a good one and, I guess since it’s the only one I saw, it’s the one I’d say should win.  But seriously, I need to get better with seeing these short subjects. What Will Win: I don’t really know, so I’m taking a guess and I think I’ll say Feast will win.  Of these nominees, there was a lot of talk of people really liking it and saying it should be getting an Oscar.  That, and the Disney animated short hasn’t won since Paperman, so that may translate to Feast getting this one. 

Best Live Action Short: 

Aya

Boogaloo and Graham

Butter Lamp

Parvaneh

The Phone Call 

What Should Win: Sorry, I didn’t see any of these, so I’m not making a call here. And honestly, I don’t have a good excuse, because I live near a really great indie theater and every year, they show all the short subjects, both animated and live-action, in one big block to see, so I should have went. Actually, I did go to that theater when they were doing that, but I went to Mr. Turner instead because I’d been waiting for that to open for months and, thus, it took precedence. Maybe I’ll get in gear for this better next year… What Will Win: How do you make a prediction in a category where you’ve never seen or even heard of the nominees?  You take a wild guess that may be based in nothing… or you do some research before doing that.  On that basis, I’d say Butter Lamp. 

Best Sound Editing: 

American Sniper, Alan Robert Murray and Bub Asman

Birdman, Martín Hernández and Aaron Glascock

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies, Brent Burge and Jason Canovas

Interstellar, Richard King

Unbroken, Becky Sullivan and Andrew DeCristofaro 

What Should Win: Like I said last year, these sound categories aren’t always the easiest to differentiate the meaning of, so I’ll use the same supposed explanations for both that I used back then.  Sound editing, from what I can discern, is adding crispness to the audio and stitching together multiple different sounds to add authenticity to the parts of the movie that their used in and for the effects the filmmakers want the sounds to have on us.  I can’t talk about Unbroken here, because I didn’t see it, I could barely hear the sound of Interstellar, what with the blaring music and volume that, I think, they cranked way up for the IMAX screening of it I went to and I barely remember ANYTHING about The Hobbit Volume 3 (sound or otherwise), so it’s down to Birdman and American Sniper.  I’m going to pick Birdman for this one, and the tipping point, I think, is the way the film handles the sounds as they relate to Riggan’s inner monologue.  This is a common thread in the movie and we see many scenes with him hearing his voice from when he played Birdman telling him how washed up he’s become in his pursuit of art and how he should go back to his old days of popularity.  The way the movie blends the real sounds of the backstage and on-the-street existence of Riggan with the view of the world that his subconscious superhero alter-ego presents as an alternative is excellent and serves as both impeccable audio work and an added dimension and impact on the narrative.  American Sniper does something similar, albeit not as obviously as Birdman, but because of how well that dichotomy was realized in Birdman, even with it being as clearly noticeable as it was (which is debatably easier to do and thus, perhaps less deserving of praise than the more reserved perspective in American Sniper), it gets the edge.   What Will Win:  I’m thinking American Sniper will get the win here.  As I said, this film does provide a quieter internal conflict for its lead character that is well-realized and expressed by the sound editing, but it also has strong sound design in regards to the war scenes, both in terms of the bombastic tones that we’d expect, but even in the quieter moments when Chris Kyle is in position waiting for a reason to fire and we hear far away gunshots and close-by car engines, human discussion and footfalls and tank tracks rolling through the Iraq cities.  In that way, American Sniper is an all-encompassing audio package when looking at it deeper, while also being effective at the sound experience that’s expected of it at first glance, and I think that will translate into it taking the Oscar home in this category. 

Best Sound Mixing: 

American Sniper, John Reitz, Gregg Rudloff and Walt Martin

Birdman, Jon Taylor, Frank A. Montaño and Thomas Varga

Interstellar, Gary A. Rizzo, Gregg Landaker and Mark Weingarten

Unbroken, Jon Taylor, Frank A. Montaño and David Lee

Whiplash, Craig Mann, Ben Wilkins and Thomas Curley 

What Should Win: OK, so I said what sound editing is and, for sound mixing, it’s basically blending the myriad of recorded audio by the sound team to express the atmospheric goals of the movie that they’re in.  Again, I didn’t see Unbroken, so it’s out of the picture here and again, if the idea of Interstellar was to completely overwhelm us with its audio, then it did its job, I guess (yeah, I’m poking fun at that movie on the audio, but it was one of the film’s highlights when compared to its serious narrative and scriptural flaws).  Like Sound Editing, American Sniper is in here but, unlike Sound Editing, Whiplash is also nominated.  It’s probably between Whiplash and Birdman for me, but I’m going to go for Birdman. I’ve said previously that one of the strengths of the film is its ability to bring so much life to the New York theater that Riggan’s opening his play in that it’s almost like a character in and of itself, and that’s further reinforced by the sound mixing.  Every sound we hear in the theater, and even those we hear on the streets of New York outside it, is completely on-point and helps draw us into the backstage drama and internal struggles of Riggan and effectively reflects the pressure of the world outside pushing down on him. Also, the sound is expertly used to result in two great jump scares via the audio that, when you think about it, serve as a potent framing device for Riggan’s story. As such, Birdman gets my vote for this one. What Will Win: Again, I think American Sniper. Like with Sound Editing, it’s the mix of this film’s ability to deliver a memorable aural experience in the ways that are a no-brainer for a movie like this (that is, on-the-ground combat atmosphere and bombastic and harrowing firefights, especially that terrifyingly effectively one with butcher of Fallujah) while also going a step further to make an impact in the areas that aren’t demanding obviously impressive sound (the reflection of Kyle’s experiences at home, which become increasingly more mind-altering with after each tour of duty).  The film certainly does that well and there’s definitely a precedent for the Academy awarding sound to films like this (see also, Zero Dark Thirty, which may have done that duty better than even American Sniper), but also, this film has enough of a popularity behind it since it became such as massive hit after its nationwide expansion last month (even I couldn’t have predicted it taking off to that level) that there’s the desire to give it an award of some kind so people watching the Oscars show can say “yeah, I saw that movie and it really had great sound design,” particularly when the Academy may be  sheepish about doing so in the bigger categories.  As such, along with the sound editing, I say American Sniper will take home the sound mixing, as well. 

Best Visual Effects: 

Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dan DeLeeuw, Russell Earl, Bryan Grill and Dan Sudick

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Joe Letteri, Dan Lemmon, Daniel Barrett and Erik Winquist

Guardians of the Galaxy, Stephane Ceretti, Nicolas Aithadi, Jonathan Fawkner and Paul Corbould

Interstellar, Paul Franklin, Andrew Lockley, Ian Hunter and Scott Fisher

X-Men: Days of Future Past, Richard Stammers, Lou Pecora, Tim Crosbie and Cameron Waldbauer 

What Should Win: Interesting thing in the Visual Effects this year; I only liked one of these movies and you may be surprised to hear that I’m not voting for the one I recommended to win here.  Yes, Captain America: The Winter Soldier is easily the best film of the five nominated and its visuals were quite good, but as far as the effects that impressed me the most, they came out of Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes.  It has a lot to do with the CG of the apes and their interactions with the humans, which were quite seamless and helped me believe in the world the film created (on a visual level, of course; storywise, the movie shoots itself in the foot).  In particular, the realization of Caesar here is fantastic; Andy Serkis gives this character the best development and expressions of any other in the movie (human or otherwise) and the peerless special effects combine with Serkis’s motion capture work to bring this character to life and make use completely accept and sympathize with him.  I was always impressed by that angle of this movie, in particular, and even said at the time that its visual qualities shouldn’t be forgotten come Oscar time and thankfully, they weren’t.  So Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes is my choice, though I will say that the visuals of the other films were also well done and worthy of attention. What Will Win: I’m thinking it’s going to be Interstellar.  Yeah, this movie got, by Christopher Nolan standards, a chilly and divided reception when it came out, but there was a strong consensus that it was visually impressive.  Also, unlike the other nominees, there is an air of prestige on this one (even though I think it’s kind of a trite and pseudointellectual air) that the other films don’t really have, which I also think will translate to Interstellar winning. Well, that, and also throwing something of a bone to the devoted defenders of this movie who think it was snubbed (and apparently, they’re still out there). 

Best Documentary: 

Citizenfour

Finding Vivien Maier

Last Days of Vietnam

The Salt of the Earth

Virunga 

What Should Win: I was hoping that I would have ended up seeing two of the nominees here, but because the Academy Of Motion Picture Arts And Sciences has a scientifically proven hatred of director Steve James, that didn’t happen.  Yes, Life Itself, the great Roger Ebert documentary, is not up for Best Documentary this year and I’m hoping that it was just a simple snubbing like The Interrupters and not the same kind dirty play that also kept Hoop Dreams from being nominated 20 years ago (that is why it was snubbed and, unlike the people screaming about the same thing happening to Selma this year, saying it happened to Hoop Dreams is actually provable).  Oh well, at least the other documentary I saw was great, too, and without Life Itself, it makes my choice here a lot easier.  I’m picking Citizenfour, Laura Poitras’ look at Edward Snowden blowing the doors off of the NSA spying program that was expanded under President Obama, as opposed to curtailed as he promised it would be after, it would seem now, his feigned outrage when George W. Bush did, amazingly, less than what Obama ended up signing off on.  But, as I said when I called this the 4th best film of 2014, politics are not the reason this movie is great; it’s the craft, confidence and great management and clarification of all the information about this complex subject that makes Citizenfour special and essential viewing, as well as my choice to win Best Documentary of 2014. What Will Win: Citizenfour is by far the most visible and visibly celebrated nominee in this category, but even so, I don’t think it’s going to win.  Salon’s Andrew O’Heir, of all people, made a really good point in his review when he talked about the fact that the movie hammers Obama like it does and stated that it would be a challenge for the Academy to vote for this movie, because, by voting for a movie that makes “Obama look this bad,” it would be both a massive no-confidence vote towards someone they’ve propped up for years and a glorified admission that they were wrong about selling him as being better and “bigger than Jesus Christ.”  I don’t think the Academy wants to do either, so I think they’ll pick something else. I’m going to guess Last Days of Vietnam will win, then, because it has been well received, it does have the importance factor to documentaries that the Academy often looks for (even though they’ve bucked that trend for two years running with Searching for Sugar Man and 20 Feet From Stardom) and because the Academy can feel better about trotting out Vietnam again, where its morality is more clear to them than our current president continuing to invasively spy on people.  Because of that, it’ll be Last Days Of Vietnam. 

Best Costume Design: 

Milena Canonero, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Mark Bridges, Inherent Vice

Colleen Atwood, Into the Woods

Anna B. Sheppard and Jane Clive, Maleficent

Jacqueline Durran, Mr. Turner 

What Should Win: This is a tough one.  I really liked all the costumes of all these films and they’re all so different in why they’re so effective.  It’s literally going to be a razor’s edge that separates my personal preference and the other four nominees and the film that comes out just barely in front is actually probably the least obviously eye-catching; Inherent Vice.  This movie’s costumes do an effective job of capturing the aura of California in the 1970s, going between summer themed floral print shirts and heavy and grungy brown denim, just to name a few examples but, and maybe the perspective of the film helps out here, the designs become so indelible that they draw you into this world and the characters wearing the outfits to the point where eventually, I didn’t even think about them.  It seems weird that I’d be giving the win to the film where there came a point where I didn’t pay attention to the costumes, but it was because of the hypnotic effect Inherent Vice had on me that I completely accepted these costumes as extensions of the characters, which made them feel more of-a-piece in this bizarre world and made the design of the outfits perfect reflections of both in a way that I think is irreplaceable to the film.  Also, in its roundabout and subtle way upon my reflection of the movie, made me appreciate the costumes, their designs and the film’s effectiveness at utilizing them for its purpose (which is probably the most unique of the five nominees here) more after the fact than I did while watching it, and that’s impressive to me.  So, yeah, I pick Inherent Vice for Costume Design.     What Will Win:  Something more obviously impressive than Inherent Vice, certainly, but there were 4 other nominees like that.  Even with that wide net to pick out of, I think this one will go to The Grand Budapest Hotel.  Like the production design, the costumes here are so lovingly crafted and colorful, while also being contrasted effectively with the shifting tones of the narrative (though, I’d say that reflection of the film’s tonal shift through its visual design is the only place in this movie where it’s effectively handled) and it’s a mix that, I think, will lead the movie to winning this award, too.   

OK, it's finally here; my list of the best movies of 2014.  Like with my list of the worst, I have both a Top 10 and an 11-20 list, but for the year’s greatest, it was even harder to come up with the 10 that I did, making the runners-up list a necessity this time.  There are quite a lot of films that I was hoping to squeeze into the vaunted 10 that I just couldn’t, and if you find yourself asking “how could you not get [insert film name here] in there?,” chances are that I still am, too.  That being said, there were some big ones I saw, but didn’t think were good enough to make the list, some I liked (like The Imitation Game, Foxcatcher, Selma and Inherent Vice) and others I didn’t (Whiplash, Interstellar, Obvious Child, and The Theory Of Everything, for example, were beloved by many, but not me).

Also, keep in mind that I didn’t get to everything I hoped I would for this year.  I actually got really lucky with what came around where I live and when (and I took every opportunity I had), but there are still a couple of big items I missed. Some of it was because I was busy (which caused me not to catch Snowpiercer, The Babadook and Love Is Strange, to name three) and others did not open near where I live (like Goodbye To Language, Why Don’t You Play In Hell and Mr. Turner, the latter of which I still haven’t been able to see and it’s just killing me).  If I see anything I didn’t get around to later and they’re good enough to have somewhere here, I may append this list at some point.  

But enough of the preamble, let’s get to what you and I both really want.  These were the absolute best movies I saw in 2014 and I recommend them all as highly as I can to you,especially if you haven’t seen them yet. Let’s go:

1. Boyhood

I guess I’m being unoriginal here, as the best movie of 2014 to me is the same film that, oh I don’t know, over 100 film critics are also calling this year’s best. Even so, there’s really something quite special about Richard Linklater’s Boyhood that makes me more than happy to go with the crowd on it.  I mean, think about it; of the hundreds of critics who loved this movie and the millions of moviegoers who helped make this independent effort a surprising box office success, all of whom are vastly unique people of different genders, races,ages, life experiences and walks of life, they’re all able to come together form tangible personal connections to multiple facets of this specific story ofa young boy and his family growing up over a 12 year period.  You know, sometimes when a movie captures a point in time and/or a certain concept, it’s something that only a few people tend to latch onto and say “yeah, that’s it; this is what this is like,” but with Boyhood, there’s this almost universal appeal, relatability and truth to it that we don’t always get and the film feels effortless in how it achieves that.  Yet, you can easily see the heart, soul and care that went into this intriguing, intelligent, unpredictable, rich and memorable triumph and that makes this movie even more worthy of celebration.

Ellar Coltrane stars and shines as Mason, a young boy living in Texas with his sister, Samantha (played winningly by Lorelei Linklater) and his mother (Patricia Arquette), while occasionally seeing his father (Ethan Hawke).  The film begins in 2002, with Mason as a young boy and, as the film briskly travels through its nearly 3 hour running time, we see the next 12 years pass and watch the growth of Mason from a young child into a young man, as he goes through an existentialistic phase to try and find out what he wants out of life and how his youth may and/or may not shape his future.  However, despite what the movie’s title might suggest, this isn’t just about Mason, because we also get to witness the growth of his entire family, both physically and mentally, including Mason’s mother going back to school for a degree and attempting to find love again, Mason’s father evolving from an idealistic and carefree dreamer to a more grounded and introspective man and Samantha, whose young precociousness slowly blossoms into a similar attempt to Mason’s to find herself as a teenager and young adult.  OK, based on what I said, you may be thinking “that doesn’t seem very descriptive or original, nor does it feel like it’s much to base this movie around,” but I’m deliberately keeping some story details hidden, because I’d say most of them constitute spoilers and the delight of this movie is seeing where the life of these characters takes them next (and trust me; you’ll be surprised at each and every turn here, even though some of them may seem like foregone conclusions when you think about them).  Also, mark my words when I say that, even though this doesn’t sound like it would be special, it really, really is.

Much has been made of the fact that this film was actually shot over 12 years to give us the sense of seeing Mason and his family grow up right in front of us. Honestly, this isn’t exactly a new concept in filmmaking, as Michael Apted explored the lives of people in cinematic real-time with his “Up” series of documentaries going back to the 1960s and Richard Linklater himself went that route with his films, Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight.  That being said, there are two places where Boyhood’s originality comes from in its setup. One is the way it doesn’t use title cards to tell us what the current time period is, but shows us a sharp and unique attention to American and pop-culture to make savvy viewers easily be able to tell when each scene takes place.  I love this, because it’s a perfect middle ground between explicitly telling us and giving no explanation, while never succumbing to the negatives of either extreme, and it also serves as a great cinematic and pop cultural time capsule of the 2000s and early 2010s, with examples including Mason playing Disney Extreme Skate Adventure on his Game Boy Advance SP in 2003, playing Halo 2 on his Xbox in 2004, playing Wii Sports on a friend’s Wii in 2006 and, in summer of 2008, Mason talking with his father about how a girl he likes hates all three of his favorite films from that era (The Dark Knight, Pineapple Express and Tropic Thunder).

More importantly than that, though, while the idea of being made over 12 years is impressive and risky as cinema, unlike, say, Birdman, this film’s much discussed technique never sticks out while watching the film.  The attention to detail and the naturalism of the acting, writing and settings keep our focus completely on watching the lives of Mason and his family, which is how it should be.  As such, we see their highs and lows and can to attach to them and be engrossed in their stories, while also picking up details that make us say “yeah, this is exactly what a situation like this is or would be like in real-life.” In my case, I could relate to many parts of this movie (growing up with an interest in film and video games, a mother trying to go back to school, etc) and it perfectly depicts all of these things, but even of the elements that I haven’t personally experienced, my life of knowing people who have or situations like them ring equally true and, as someone who sees many films that don’t have a clue about how real-life and real people are like, it’s a miracle to get a movie like this that gets everything so completely correct without ever feeling clichéd or condescending and I absolutely love it for that.

I also love the way this film handles its tones.  There are some very funny parts here, such as, to name only four (but there are many more), Mason providing an uncertain answer to his father when asked who he’d vote for in the 2004 presidential election, Samantha and her mother’s back and forth on their moving day to Austin, Mason’s father giving his son a pretty great musical gift as a birthday present and a look at the lead-up to Barack Obama’s election contrasting between a racist confederate gun-owner against his election and a single mother supporting the soon-to-be president who also expresses her sexual desires for him.  However, there are some very observant sections, some harrowing passage and some devastatingly effective and heart-breaking scenes, many involving Mason’s mother, such as a late scene when she says “I thought it would be more” (I wouldn’t dare of explaining the significance of that) and the scene at the breakfast table of a family member’s house, that brought me to tears both times I saw the film and probably will do the same the next time I see it. In all those cases, even when the film shifts from one mood to another, even when it’s shocking, it somehow always felt completely natural and never felt abrupt or uneasy, which is saying a lot, given the strength of the scenes in this film on all ends of the possible tonal spectrum.  And again, this Oscar caliber cast and script, as well as Linklater’s relaxed, yet focused and exciting direction and brisk pacing (this may be a nearly 3 hour film, but it doesn’t for a moment feel like it) are in perfect sync with the narrative.

Simply put, Boyhood is a masterpiece that as close to perfect as a film can get.  It’s also a movie that, even months after seeing it, I vividly remember, as it still frequently pops into my mind, providing me with wonderful memories of every single inch of it, as well as thoughts of these characters and their situations that go even beyond the boundaries of what we see of them here.  That last part, in particular, is something I can’t say about many movies, even some of the best ones I’ve seen, and that, along with everything else this movie does so well, makes this an unforgettable must-see of a film that’s completely deserving of its widespread praise, as well as the title of my best movie of 2014.  

2. Nightcrawler

I nearly missed seeing my #2 film, Nightcrawler, which I went to see pretty much because I saw everything else playing in my town and heard good things about it, and now, the thought of my almost not seeing this masterpiece terrifies me. That being said, there’s one thing scarier than that, and that’s the film itself, as it’s easily the most disturbing, intense and nerve-wracking time I had at the movies all year and I mean that in the absolute best way.  I loved this media drama/beyond pitch black satire so much and had my spirits go so high over its greatness after seeing it that I was literally begging people to check it out in my review and across multiple other film reviews on a level that I didn’t even afford to Boyhood.  In fact, this is only film from 2014 aside from Boyhood that I even considered calling the year’s best, but Linklater’s film was slightly more effective and unforgettable than this.  Even so, I’m never going to forget or stop loving this riveting, nihilistic, unpredictable and absolutely fantastic movie that amazingly, is a directing debut by Dan Gilroy, and wow, what an amazing and exciting coming out this is.

The film follows Louis Bloom, played unforgettably by Jake Gyllenhaal, an obsessive and self-taught Los Angeles recluse who, as the movie opens, we see trespassing on private property to steal wire fencing to sell for money and killing a cop who comes by to stop him.  On the way home, he pulls over on the highway when he sees a car crash and notices a group of people, led by Bill Paxton’s Joe, with video cameras taking footage of the carnage, which they then sell to the local TV news stations willing to pay for and air the tapes.  Louis, who had earlier failed to talk his way into a job at the scrapyard that he also failed to sell his stolen wire to, decides that he could do this, too, so he buys a cheap camcorder and police radio at a pawn shop and trolls the night streets of LA looking for carnage to film and sell.  Slowly but surely, Louis learns the nightcrawling game (that’s the term for what he’s doing) and gets some strikingly graphic footage of a gunshot victim dying from his wounds that impresses Channel 6 news director Nina Romina (Rene Russo) and Louis is able to get a foot in the door.  From there, Louis continues to give his footage to Nina, while also building up his own start-up company for what he does and taking on the struggling Rick (Riz Ahmed) as his first intern and assistant.  As far where the rest of the movie goes, it kind of predicates on a particularly big scoop that Louis gets video of and that’s about all I’m going to say about it, because I you want to be as surprised and rattled at just how far down the rabbit hole this movie goes as I was when I saw it (especially during the masterfully staged third act that got me, and some other people sitting near me in the theater, swearing out loud and out of reactionary instinct as I watched where the movie went).

In some ways, you could say that this film is an indictment of the modern culture of network news, its voyeurism and its consuming and dehumanizing effects on people who watch it (though, in Louis’ case, he’s basically almost humanity-free without the media or news’ help) and, in lesser hands, Nightcrawler could have been an exploitative, broad and tired exercise using a previously explored topic as its life essence.  Thankfully, that never happens, because this film has many fresh outlooks on this material, most of them coming from Louis’s character. He’s a sociopath who basically wants a job at any cost and has so much knowledge and time on his hands to expand said knowledge, usually via the internet, and the movie does a great job of mixing that with where his amateur filmography calling takes him.  He’s a very smart and resourceful man and, even more terrifying than the way he seems to have every answer and the ability to do anything (which, in particular, helped to make me completely buy the ending) is how, though I’m clearly able to tell he’s trouble, he’s able to make himself come off as so approachable and alluring. That twisted dichotomy is at the heart of Louis’s relationship with Rick, especially when Rick opens up more and we see how Louis’s demeanor toward him shifts, but also the web he catches Nina in.  Without saying too much, Louis basically traps Nina in a form of sexual blackmail and the way this movie handles that is delicate, refreshingly reserved and very disturbing, while never feeling like it’s trivializing or exploiting that subject material.  

The film’s script and direction by Dan Gilroy perfectly dovetail with the themes and narrative here and they really give the world of Nightcrawler an authentic and unsettling identity.  As I mentioned, this film is set in LA and it vividly reflects the rhythm and seedy undercurrent of the City Of Angels, particularly at night, in terms of the atmospheric cinematography and lighting, and even through the dialogue of the characters.  There’s one scene where Louis and Rick head out to get footage before the other crews beat them to it and Rick makes a mistake with the traffic reports and patterns, which takes them towards congested areas. This outrages Louis, as he goes on a rant about how Rick should have studied the reports or just had common sense not to know that the major highways, including the dreaded I-5, are suicide in the nightcrawling game.  It’s an interesting setup and scene and it, and many other examples like it, shows the film’s understanding of LA in a way that’s important to the story and not just showing off.  I also liked the details to the local news scene in town, including the fact they used real LA TV news anchors playing themselves here, which only adds to the authenticity of this story, especially as they provide running commentary to some of Louis’s footage that is exactly how TV news handles a harrowing breaking story like that.  

Then, of course, we have the performances and they’re all Oscar-caliber and are either amongst the best of their careers or simply their best roles, period. Riz Ahmed as Rick is as close to a morally relatable character as we get here, as he has personal struggles, but dreams of improving his situation, while seeing Louis as the person to help him, and Rick’s story arc, as well as his mixture of vulnerability and gained personal strength is intriguing and touching, in its way.  On the news front, we have Bill Paxton, quite good as the snaky Joe, and Rene Russo, who we haven’t seen in many movies recently, reminding us of how strong an actress she is as Nina, balancing between the cold realities of her profession and perhaps something resembling humanity.  And finally, and most significantly, we have Jake Gyllenhaal as Louis.  Flat out, this is the best performance he’s given and he perfectly realizes this street-smart/internet smart outcast and makes it so that every time he’s on screen, which is a lot, seeing as he’s the lead character, he makes your skin crawl in a way that’s wonderfully unsettling and engrossing.

For me, I’ve seen Gyllenhaal do good work before but, as was the case with Charlize Theron in Monster and Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight, I couldn’t have predicted this a great a role out of him and, like those aforementioned game changing performances, this one single-handedly signals Gyllenhaal as an actor I’ll definitely be keeping on my radar better from now on.  And speaking of people I’ll keep my eye on going forward, with Nightcrawler, Dan Gilroy has cemented himself as an exciting new filmmaker with a very promising career ahead of him and, if this is a sign of things to come, well, we as moviegoers have even further reason to be excited for his next outing and, while we wait, we can cherish this instant classic of a debut.  

3. Locke

This is simultaneously the easiest and hardest film in my 10 Best List to discuss and express my undying love and admiration for.  It’s Locke, directed by Steven Knight and like last year’s All Is Lost, this is something of a one-man show that’s about one man confined to a vehicle for the entire movie with nothing but the terrain the vehicle travels on surrounding him. However, just like All Is Lost, this film is proof that a movie can, in a sense, have the exact same thing happening repeatedly throughout the film and still be completely immersive, intriguing, unpredictable and emotionally resonant without for an instant ever feeling repetitive or dull.  You may be wondering, if this movie’s so simple narratively, how it can be so difficult to talk about?  Well, because it’s simple on the surface, but has so many layers and so much depth, not to mention that even hinting at details about why any of those things are true, even from the early minutes of the film, constitutes spoilers in my mind, and I wouldn’t dare of ruining even a frame of this great movie for you.  I could just stop writing now and just say that you absolutely must see Locke if you haven’t yet, but I need to give at least a little idea of what it’s like and why it’s so great.

Tom Hardy stars here as Ivan Locke, a Welsh construction and concrete manager who gets into his BMW after work one night and drives down the England motorway.  As he drives, he makes phone calls explaining why he’s driving and frequently saying how “it’s my decision” and “I must do this,” even if it means that his life will drastically change by the time he reaches his destination and when the sun comes up. That’s where my plot synopsis is going to stop and, yes, all we see in this movie is Ivan driving on the night highways in England talking on his cell phone (hands-free, of course).  Some may read that and say, “hey, it sounds like this movie’s just spinning its wheels the whole way through (in more ways than one),” but trust me; it’s not.

I’ve heard some compare to this to a radio play and that’s a really good analogy, because this is a film that basically is delivering its entire story just through the dialogue of Ivan and the people he calls.  It’s the idea of expository dialogue that sometimes we have problems with in other films (Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar comes to mind regarding that issue this year), but here, the way these conversations play out and the way Ivan and the voices we hear converse with each other has the ring of truth to how people really talk and react to the things they discuss and I never once got tired of it.  A lot of that has to do with the performances, including the actors we hear only in voices, but still are strong in their inflections and help to make this movie work, including Andrew Scott, Ruth Wilson and Olivia Colman, but then we have the only actor whose character we physically see; Tom Hardy.  

This may very well be his finest hour as an actor (which is saying a lot given past strong work in Bronson and Tinker Tailor Solider Spy), as his focus, body language and modulation between various levels of intensity connected to the story makes him completely disappear into his role as Ivan and helps the audience forge a strong root interest in him, even as we learn more and more about who he is based on his actions. Also, you have to understand that, the way this movie was made by director Steven Knight, Hardy was deliberately not told which characters would be calling him or when he’d hear from them. So, acting here, Hardy basically needed to be ready to react and communicate with everything and everyone in this narrative on the fly and, to a certain extent, improvise to keep our attention and keep the movie going.  That is unbelievable and that Hardy pulls it all off so flawlessly is even more stunning and admiring, not to mention that he maintains that Welsh accent and brogue perfectly throughout, which also is a task in and of itself.

So certainly, this story and the acting is more than enough to make this movie interesting and watchable, but it’s wonderfully supported by the filmmaking, too.  The script is smart and has people reacting to situations in ways people actually would in real life (I always appreciate that), the themes underneath this story are interesting and feel authentic (again, for spoiler worries, I won’t go further as to why) and Steven Knight’s direction is engrossing and exciting.  It’s been a while since I’ve seen a movie that capture the simple idea of night driving so well, with the headlights of the other cars, the police/construction worker lights and the highway lampposts whizzing by, shining both a literal and metaphorical light on Ivan from the outside, while the illuminations coming from the speedometer and on the dashboard do the same from the inside. For the viewer, as we’re interested in the story, we’re also intoxicated and feel the weight and fatigue that Ivan’s feeling and that’s being added from his late-night driving, which goes double for those who’ve driven on or have been a passenger in a car driving on the England motorways, which is where this film was shot and where this film totally nails all the details of those roads.

Locke is an interesting and wonderful beast.  It’s a film that, on the surface, seems so simple and singular, but, through excellent execution and one of the year’s very best performances, becomes a transcendent, exhilarating and unforgettable cinematic journey that means more and says more than some films that seem to initially have more going on in them than this does.  I know this film didn’t really get a whole lot of attention when it opened last April, but this is certainly the greatest diamond in the rough from 2014 and I can’t say enough good things about it.  Also, coming from someone who saw it in both the theater and again at home, I can attest that it plays as well in your living room as it did in the multiplex but, to make this trip even better, turn the lights down and the sound up before basking in this unparalleled utilitarian experience.

4. Citizenfour

Back in 2008, when people learned of the unsolicited wiretapping coming out of the George W. Bush administration, people were rightly outraged.  I remember talking to a lot of friends of mine and, of the many that were voting for Barack Obama that year, almost all of them pointed to the wiretapping as a primary reason, because he said it was “not who we are” and that he’d put a stop to it when he gets elected.  Well, that promise turned out to be a massive con, because Obama’s administration and his NSA expanded the warrantless program even more invasively than Bush probably ever dreamed, secretly allying with Verizon and other technology and telecommunication giants to spy on online and mobile communications of American citizens and foreign governments, such as the administration of German Chancellor Angela Merkel.  Enter Edward Snowden, a defense contract worker who blew the whistle on all this by telling his story to The Guardian’s Glenn Greenwald and, more pertinently, director Laura Poitras, who lays this recent history out in Citizenfour, an engaging, enraging and expertly crafted documentary that’s so factually airtight that it could and should appeal to viewers of any political persuasion… even perhaps the few ardent supporters Obama has left after his 2014 midterm election defeat (and even they haven’t tried to or would ever be able to poke holes in this movie’s case anyway).

The film begins in early 2013, a few months before the spying scandal reemerged, with Poitras getting a string of heavily encrypted messages from a person with the codename, Citizenfour, claiming that the NSA is not curtailing their surveillance programs, but actually expanding them, and into foreign countries.  Poitras is intrigued, perhaps because her past two films were also documentaries scorching post-9/11 American government wrongdoing (The Oath and My Country, My Country) and also perhaps given Citizenfour claiming that he wants to come clean and is worried about the government’s reaction (again, Poitra’s previous two films put her on notice from the Bush administration and the NSA).   Citizenfour has also been talking to Glenn Greenwald to set up an interview to lay out everything that the government has been doing to spy on us and others and Poitras ends up joining Greenwald to film the interviews in China, which is where she learns that the identity of Citizenfour is none other than Edward Snowden.  The rest of the film mixes the famous interviews that we’ve seen of Snowden with behind the scenes material in between the shoots, including Snowden’s famous escape from China to seek political asylum in Russia and the increasing fear of being vilified and/or criminalized by the Obama White House and intelligence agencies (which was exactly what happened after Snowden’s bombshells dropped, with no small help from the president’s sycophantic press, who willingly aided their glorious leader), along with many other informative interviews and well-source videos, documents and archival footage that calmly, but damningly, lays out all the evidence of the government’s overreaching to make the case against it.

Reading this, you may think this an anti-Obama film, and you’d technically be right, given that it covers the continued abuses of privacy and power that happened on his watch and is clearly on the side of Edward Snowden.  That being said, the film is effective in how it carefully plays it polemics and only clearly drops them when it’s obvious to any rational thinker of any political belief who the good guys deserving praise are here and who the bad guys deserving scorn are.  To that effect, Poitras gives us all the right interviews and stock footage of the words of those involved at just the right time to induce maximum and justified anger, but without drowning us in righteousness that could have removed the tight grip the film has on our attention.  Probably the two strongest examples of this come from the mouths of Director Of National Intelligence James Clapper and President Obama himself. Regarding Clapper, the film rightly pulls out his infamous testimony under oath to Congress about the NSA surveillance programs where he undeniably committed perjury (for which, let’s be honest, he should be in jail right now) by falsely claiming that the government is not collecting information on information on people and, as for the president, the film holds off on showing him until the last third, where he says that “we’re not going to do this anymore” and that “this debate we’re having about surveillance of people is a good thing.”  Needless to say, by taking its time and not dropping Obama on us from the start, the film gets exactly the effective reaction it should out of us from the president’s obscenely hypocritical words (especially the last one; his anger towards Bush on spying and the resulting debate we already had in 2008 saying we didn’t want it is part of why he was elected in the first place), and it’s a sight that I bet will have even some people who voted for Obama making the debunked story of Republicans saying “I can’t stand to even look at you” to the president’s face into a reality as they see him on the screen (and if they don’t feel that way then, they certainly will when the get to the film’s final shot; I’ll let you see it find out why).

Yeah, I know I’m getting into politics on this film, but it is all relevant, it is all indisputable and, as I said, Poitras controls it so well in this film that it makes the case against the spying, the agencies that did it and the president who allowed it without (despite my anger over it) making the movie feel like a shrill political scourge. That’s one of the reasons this movie’s so great; I never got the sense that it just wanted to get even with a specific political party or person, but that it wants to document this story and its actors and deliver it in a mature, intelligent, informative and fascinating way that lets the facts speak for themselves and fall where they may in terms of our reaction to it, no matter where we stand on it.  The film certainly does that, and I was completely engrossed in this story and finding out many facets to the case that I didn’t know, along with getting an idea of who Edward Snowden is.  Yes, it’s clear that Poitras is supporting him, but on the other hand, she doesn’t push it; she lets Snowden speak for himself, which is quite interesting and revealing.  Specifically, Snowden, through his own words, comes off not as an “ends justify the means” type who’s about transparency at all costs and without care of what the consequences may be (ala Jullian Assange, who also shows up here briefly), but as someone who wants to get this information out to stop it, but also shows a sincere effort and desire to simultaneously minimize the damage that he knows his expose may lead to (it’s no coincidence that he constantly says “I don’t want people to get hurt,” while also frequently citing his girlfriend and family, the latter of whom he underlines his intentional exile from, and only to keep them safe).  

Putting aside all the heavy moral and political quandaries of this movie, as well as all of the emotions related to them that come strong out of this, Citizenfour is just an expertly crafted documentary that represents the genre at its best (well, along with the next film on my list).  Regardless of whether you follow politics and this story or you’re coming in totally cold, the film is filled with new and interesting information that’s brilliantly and smartly delivered and beautifully weaves between its archival footage and interviews in a way that’s exciting, unpredictable and briskly paced. Yeah, along with giving us a definitive and complete portrait of the issues and people involved here, it never for a fraction of a second lost my interest or made me feel bored or overwhelmed. There’s something to be said when any film can do that, especially a documentary where there’s lots of information for the viewer to digest and the filmmaker to summarize, but Citizenfour does it all brilliantly so that, whatever your politics are, it’s an enlightening and very entertaining documentary that you absolutely need to see.

5. Life Itself

Here it is; the documentary about one of the people who’s the reason that I enjoy watching and analyzing film as much as I do and why you’re reading this and all my other film essays. Yeah, I read and watched film critic Roger Ebert A LOT when I was growing up (and still do; thank you, internet) and, as such, I was eagerly awaiting Life Itself, the documentary about Ebert from Steve James who, it’s worth pointing out, made the brilliant Hoop Dreams two decades ago that both Ebert and Gene Siskel heavily championed after its Sundance premiere (and rightly so).  I wanted to see this so much that I drove an hour and a half from where I live to see this in the theater with my brother, who was with me when we met Ebert (and his then TV partner, Richard Roeper) on their Film Festival At Sea in 2004, but before the film started, part of me questioned my anticipation, and I wondered if this film, would have nothing in it that I didn’t already know about a subject I know so much about.  Fast forward about 2 hours later and I had my answer; the movie was certainly worth my excitement and it gave me a plethora of new information, most of which was quite surprising and helped turn what may seem like just a film about a film critic into an invaluable and unflinching document of the experience of human life, with all the incredible highs and lows it has to offer.

The movie is based on the memoir of the same name from Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert and, as expected, it tells the story of how he became one of the most prominent and respected film critics/journalists around, starting from his college days at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.  There, he worked as a writer for the newspaper covering big stories like the Birmingham church bombing and the JFK assassination, and afterward, he would become the movie critic at the Sun-Times, where he went on to win the Pulitzer Prize (and was the first film critic to do so) and, in 1975, co-hosted a movie review program named Opening Soon At A Theater Near You with Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel that, of course, we would eventually know as Siskel & Ebert And The Movies.  Also, as expected, we hear from close friends and family of Roger, fellow film analysts and even directors who Roger gave encouraging words to via his reviews, including Ramin Bahrani of Man Push Cart, Chop Shop and Goodbye Solo fame. However, the film also looks as some of the darker chapters of Roger’s life, including his alcoholism and emotional demons (many related to his tense relationship with his mother), while also looking at Roger’s health problems later in life.  If you didn’t know, in 2006, Roger had complications from a surgery related to thyroid cancer treatment, which caused him to lose the ability to speak (that effectively forced him to leave his TV show with Richard Roeper who, oddly, isn’t in this film or even mentioned) and this movie places that, as well as Roger’s openness with his sickness, in the context of the 1999 death of Gene Siskel, while also showing us, in unflinching and harrowing detail, his day to day life during rehabilitation after a hip injury in December 2013, the deterioration of his health from that point and the effects they had on Roger and his family, including his wife, Chaz, who opens up more here than we’ve seen before.  

That last point is the big emotional pull of this film, as until now, we never got a full sense of what Roger was going through.  Oh sure, he did a spread in Vanity Fair showing the hole in his neck from the emergency tracheotomy he had and he was on Oprah explaining that and demonstrating the advanced computer program that he used to speak, but this film places us right there in the hospital room with Roger and Chaz and we see their struggle every step of the way. Some people may think that it’s too hard to watch and arguably sadistic (and in fact, some of Roger’s friends, including those interviewed here, were among them), but it doesn’t come off that way, particularly because everything this movie shows us is completely authentic to how life with cancer and health problems is (which I guess is to be expected, seeing that this is a documentary), it gives us a sense that we’re being put through this pain for the purpose of understanding and empathy, rather than just to be shocked or upset and because Roger wanted this. Yeah, early in the movie, we see Steve James in the hospital room with Roger and Chaz and, when the nurse asks Roger what he wants to do next that, he replies by saying “Ask Steve; he’s the director.”  The film clearly lays out, especially later on, that Ebert, as a fan of film and a person who respected the vision of directors, wanted James to make the movie he thought would be best to make, no matter where Roger’s journey was leading him, and that’s quite a striking thing that, again, emphasizes how open Roger wanted to be with his health.

The film actually makes that even more interesting based on its look at and parallel to Roger’s relationship with Gene Siskel.  Even if you never saw the Siskel and Ebert show in their 80s and 90s heydays, you knew who they were (tons of film commercials pointed out how “Siskel and Ebert give it Two Thumbs Up!”) and chances are you also knew that they were constantly at each other’s throats when they disagreed on films on the air, off the air and even during guest appearances on other shows.  The film does a great job of showing that with some perfect and pretty funny choices of disagreements on their program (including the significant back and forths on Full Metal Jacket, Benji The Hunted and the rarely seen split on Apocalypse Now), as well as their profanity-laced arguments during the show’s promo recordings and potshots on Johnny Carson’s show (one of which wasn’t even between them, but was them telling Chevy Chase right to his face that they thought Three Amigos was garbage). However, as the film lays out, there was a building up of mutual respect between the two and, when Gene died from a brain tumor in 1999, it hit Roger hard (not to mention Gene's family, including his wife Marlean, a great interview subject here), particularly because Gene knew he was dying and never really talked about it.  The film does show one subtle case of Gene hinting at it through, of all things, his review of Meet The Deedles in 1998, but outside of that (and his Kiki’s Delivery Service review, which isn’t in this movie, but where he mostly talked about his surprise that his young monster-truck loving son got into such a quiet film), he mostly kept his health troubles hidden, unlike Roger.

Also, Roger didn’t keep his other personal demons and uncertainties secret and neither does this movie.  The film does go into his alcoholism, emotional imperfections and, despite all the talk he got for his bravery when his health deteriorated, the times in which his spirits began to collapse and hearing all of those things washes away any charge of vanity that may have ever been thrown at Roger, as well as any charge of idolatry of this movie, while also allowing the audience to relate to what they’re seeing, even if they’re not familiar with Roger or ever went through the things that he did.  Furthermore, that, and everything else in the movie, perfectly tie into its theme and that of Roger’s book; the journey of life.  Life, generally speaking for most people, is full of euphoric emotional peaks and devastating valleys and this is a movie shows a vivid understanding of that. Yeah, I know that sounds corny, but this movie supports that statement in a very true and life-affirming way, expertly shifting between some of the more humorous moments of Roger’s career and life, the joyous points where he felt at the most peace (watching movies and writing about them, a concept I can certainly relate to) and, yes, the very moving, sad and revealing look at his deterioration, both in the hospital and, perhaps even more harrowing, in his home (the scene when Roger and Chaz in the doorway of their house is proof of that).  

So, yeah, Life Itself is a lot more than a simple documentary about probably the most famous film critic who ever lived and, honestly, I’m surprised it was as good, all-encompassing and full of new information as it is.  Coming from someone with interest in the subject, that’s quite a statement, but even if you aren’t as passionate about film criticism or have the knowledge of Roger Ebert as I do, the movie still has a lot to offer and delivers as an effective and focused look at Roger’s world and life that goes far beyond the world of movies, but also can be greatly encapsulated in films like this. I think Roger himself said it best with the following statement that Life Itself understands well and that can be perfectly and fittingly applied to it: “For me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy. It lets you understand hopes, aspirations, dreams and fears. It helps us identify with the people sharing this journey with us.”

6. How To Train Your Dragon 2

OK, so I said that this sequel to the great 2010 CG animated fantasy epic about a boy and his dragon was easily this past summer’s best major release, but I was also a bit surprised to learn that after seeing pretty much all of the animated films that came out in 2014 (except Rio 2), How To Train Your Dragon 2 ended up as the year’s best animated film, bar none.  Yes, I did see The Lego Movie, Big Hero 6 and even Isao Takahata’s The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya and I can safely say that this film outdoes all of them.  Like the original film (which also made my 10 Best List the year it came out and was also that year’s best animated effort), How To Train Your Dragon 2 takes what, on the surface, seems like a collection of tired elements, and through its expert execution and filmmaking, breathes amazing and miraculous new life into them, resulting in me being constantly elated and excited while watching it and ended with me dropping all of the critical defenses that I usually have walled up like Fort Knox.  Or, to put it more simply, THIS is what I’m hoping and praying for before every big-ticket movie I see and this film’s artistry and craft is the benchmark that EVERY major release should be striving to match, if not surpass. In fact, on that note, I’ll go one step beyond the best summer release and animated film claim; I think this was the best major release of ANY kind released this year.

After the events of the last movie, the citizens of the Viking town of Berk are no longer at war with the dragons.  On the contrary; they’re embracing them and following in the footsteps of Hiccup (expertly voiced again by Jay Baruchel) and his tamed dragon Toothless by having their own flying companions.  Hiccup’s father, Stoick (voiced by Gerard Butler) is still the leader of the Berk, but, with Hiccup entering his teenage years, Stoick looks to pass his crown on to his son while Hiccup, being a teenager (albeit one who’s a Viking with a dragon companion, something not all adolescents can claim), isn’t feeling ready to succeed his father as leader of the Vikings.  That’s just as well, though, because Hiccup and Berk are required to focus more on the  threat from the Dragon Riders, a group of dragon trainers who use their dragons to pillage and acquire the lands they devastate.  Hiccup gets caught by their leader, Drago (voiced by Djimon Hounsou) and escapes with Toothless to a wintry glacier with plans to regroup with his friends and family to fight back against the new threat, but not before finding a mysterious Dragon master with taming methods oddly similar to those that Hiccup uses (yeah, the trailers and some other reviews explain who the Dragon master is, but I’ll let you find out when you see the film).

As I said, parts of that plot synopsis sound quite familiar and I’ve seen tons of films that take those played out elements and deliver them in the most uninteresting, trite and annoying way you can imagine.  Yet, How To Train Your Dragon 2 never falls into those traps.  I think part of why that is comes from how the film develops its characters and situations delicately, intelligently and authentically in the context of the world that’s been created for both, making everything here feel more real than in some films deliberately attempting a realistic look on the world we actually live in, but the other part comes from something more simple, yet so much more complicated and hard to reproduce; passion.  Yes, passion; that’s a word that often comes to my mind when I think of this movie (and its predecessor, for that matter) because, with every frame of this, you can tell that director Dean Debois and everyone in this cast and crew poured their hearts and souls into making this movie into something special and I think it’s that care that ends up selling us on some of the aforementioned and seemingly standard character and plot details to the point where they’re so fresh and engaging that it’s almost as if they’re complete new ideas.  Let me tell you, I know I’m a very cynical man when it comes to movies, especially with my seeing so many of them, but that I’m able to write the sentence I just did about this movie is downright miraculous and makes me happier than even my words can express.

The passion and effort coming from this movie is even more joyous and deserving of praise when behind it is a film that does everything it’s setting out to do so well.  I love the atmosphere, which is transporting and effectively anchored by the film’s striking art direction and sumptuously detailed and lush animation.  I love the flying scenes, a big selling point from the first movie that are still exciting and wonderfully realized and staged.  I love the use of 3D, that, especially in IMAX (the way I saw the film), adds to the atmosphere and lacks the superfluity and especially blurriness that too many film suffer from (The Lego Movie, I’m looking at you; you were a good movie, but you botched the 3D badly and no one else had the guts to call you out for it).  The audio is also incredible; John Powell provides a majestic and resonant music score, the sound design is crisp and enveloping and the voice acting?  Oh man, the voice acting.  There are people who think we should hold voice actors on a lower pedestal than physical actors, but the vocal stylings of this cast, including Jay Baruchel, America Ferrera, Jonah Hill, Craig Ferguson, Djimon Honsou, Cate Blanchett,  Kristen Wiig and Gerard Butler, among others, shows that idea to be wrong, as their confident and varied vocal inflections add so much to the personalities and resonance of these characters (and in the case of those last three, they’re far better here than some of their recent actual performances, including some wrongly considered awards worthy ones; I’ll let you figure out which ones I mean).  

Along with all of those things, I adore this film’s story construction, especially the way it wears multiple tonal hats and juggles them all so beautifully.  The movie gives us natural and effective passages of comedy, both of the dialogue and physical variety (my favorites being Hiccup imitating his father while attempting to explain what a specific conversation between them will most likely play out and the one where Toothless is surrounded by baby dragons and uses his eyes and body language to notice before trying to knock them away), exciting and clever fantasy action, authentic romance and even some pretty effective emotional developments and the film maintains a smooth pace and naturally shifts between its different tones.  Again, I see major movies all the time that try to do that and fail, but How To Train Your Dragon 2 never falters and it makes everything it does so well look easy and I love it for that.  Thankfully, many others of all ages also loved it, despite it not quite getting the box office attention it deserved this year and, if you were one of those who missed it, first of all, shame on you (especially if you blindly supported lesser and/or forgettable high-profile fare like Transformers 4, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and The Hobbit Volume 3), but second of all, man, are you in for a treat with this one.

7. Listen Up Phillip

Some people, including the person who brought the excellent Listen Up Phillip to my attention (to which, I’m extremely grateful), seem to think that I, and perhaps many people, cannot get into a film with an unlikable protagonist.  I can’t speak for others, but I don’t mind having an incorrigible lead character or characters in a movie, as long as I can see an authentic and still interesting human being in them.  Sadly, that belief of mine was clouded by my need to rightly call out many 2014 films for having horrible lead characters who never for a second felt authentic or worth investing attention in and, often, were redeemed at the end for no good reason.  That’s one of the reasons I love Listen Up Phillip so much, as it calls the bluff of those other films that try to have lead characters like that.  However, there’s so much else that’s great about this searing, engrossing, affecting and severely underrated character study/drama/dark comedy that I don’t know if I can do all of those things justice in this write-up (and I feel there’s more to it that a second viewing could reveal, as I mostly focused on one angle in my original review).  Well, I’ll try, because this one’s worth the attention, both from me and especially you.    

Jason Schwartzman is Phillip, a New York literary novelist with one published book under his belt and another one he’s currently releasing.  He’s indignant with the process of selling his new work and, it would seem, with life in general at the age of 35.  Lacking any fulfilling professional satisfaction and with dwindling personal satisfaction with his girlfriend, Ashley (Elisabeth Moss), he attempts to find both amidst his own self-loathing and his conceited and cruel loathing of most everyone around him, including Ashley.  Enter Ike (Jonathan Pryce), a fellow literary idol of Phillip’s who notices him and offers to take him into his home outside the city for the upcoming summer.  Phillip agrees and that, combined with his selfish attitude about his going off to find and help himself, pretty much kills his relationship with Ashley, while Ike is also having a similar and similarly tense relationship with his daughter, Melanie (Krysten Ritter).  From there, Phillip seems as if he’s in a better place to satisfy himself and even finds himself in a teaching job in the English department of a nearby college, but does he really feel any better with his higher intellectual stimulation, and for that matter, does Ike?  And how are the women close to them dealing with the two men’s indulgences, namely, Melanie and especially Ashley?

In my worst of the year list, I roasted Bad Words and especially St. Vincent for their loathsome and irredeemable male leads and I’m clearly expressing how unlikable a person Phillip is in this film, so why does it work here and not in those aforementioned movies?  It’s a combination of three things.  One, the script and character development is far better, far more realistic and far more honest than it was in those messes, two, writer/director Alex Ross Perry allows his film to stand back from itself and its lead to let what we’re seeing speak for itself and let us come to our own determination about its players (as opposed to those other films pushing the way it wants us to feel, especially about the main character) and third, the lead performance is perfectly in tune with the film’s approach and strongly guides us through this world and through Phillip’s mindset in a way that’s always interesting, authentic and, interestingly enough, emotionally contradicting. Jason Schwartzman gives one of his best and certainly underrated performances here as the smart, acerbic and indeed, very narcissistic and mean Phillip, but he brings an intriguing and dialed back aura to the character that always held my interesting in seeing where he and the movie would go and made me kind of go back and forth on my personal feelings for him.  

On one hand, he is intelligent and sharp, and we get some wonderfully sarcastic and humorously uncomfortable put-downs and reactions from him (particularly his thoughts and actions while trying to market his book and a priceless scene with him playing piano with Ike to entertain some guests/potential conquests) that made me think, “yeah, I can get this guy.” But then, we see Phillip’s more admirable side effectively contrasted with his twisted psychological mistreatment of those close to him. Two examples of that really stood out to me; one being Phillip’s justifications to Ashley for him going to live with Ike, where he attempts to guilt-trip her and transfer his selfishness onto her to make her feel like she’s in the wrong for wanting to maintain the bond and partnership that they’ve had for years as a couple, and the other in a late scene where he acts similarly to someone else by making up a fake personal backstory and then, he immediately admits it’s a lie he told to deliberately hurt them and that he took pride in telling it.  He’s using words as a weapon in both cases, and, I’m not going to lie; I’ve experienced people close to me like that in my life, so I related to that element strongly here and admired how the movie captures that so painstakingly right. But even then, Phillip still maintains our attention because of interesting he is and real he feels, as well as because, more than anything, we want to see him find what he’s looking for, both for his sake and everyone else’s (and not because the movie’s telling us we should feel that way, which is a nice change).  Schwartzman here reminded me a lot of Oscar Isaac in last year’s Inside Llewyn Davis and, given how strong Isaac was in that film, which was also a similarly great and wonderfully contradictory movie about an intriguing, but often incorrigible man seeking meaning, that’s good company to be in.

Having said all of that, this is not just Schwartzman’s film, as the other performances are also top-notch and also reveal the further depth and additional angles to this movie I mentioned earlier. Jonathan Pryce is quite strong as Ike, who’s more of a lost cause emotionally than Phillip is, but also gives us depth, authenticity and dark humor to his perspective on art and life and effectively draws a distinction between himself and Phillip, who he sees as something of a kindred spirit and someone who represents what he believes to be the next great generation of the scholarly mind (which also further underlines this movie’s deep understanding and attention to detail about writing, the literary scene and teaching, particularly in the context of New York’s subculture of all three that I think many literature people will agree is its own complex and unique entity). On the female side, we have Krysten Ritter, who’s quite interesting in her attempts to connect with her father, who seems to have nothing but disdain for her, and even more impressive is Elisabeth Moss as Ashley.  She has a unique arc, because she starts the film seeming to be a perfect psychological match for Phillip, but as she’s pushed further and further away from him, we see the effects it has on her and it makes her attempts to rebuild herself personally and professionally quite engrossing cinematically and emotionally, while also being effective on a feministic level that has an authenticity that’s arguably better on that front than any movie released all year. Rounding out the performances is the narration from Eric Bogosian that, at first, I questioned its necessity, but his delivery is pitch perfect and, given the kinds of characters we’re witnessing here, it works as an effective reflection of their varying psyches.

Supporting this story and its performances is the confident and observant script, as well as the crisp direction and cinematography that gives a unique feeling on-the-streets handheld feel that gives a tangible sense of excitement in watching this tale unfold and a nice sense of time and place that almost looks and feels like a great adventurous character study from the 1970s.  Actually, this entire movie has a special and refreshing effortlessness and honesty to it that reflects that often lauded golden age of American filmmaking and makes the movie stand out, while also giving it a timeless quality that still remains etched in my mind long after having seen it.  For that, and everything else Listen Up Phillip does so well, Alex Ross Perry and this cast and crew deserve a lot of praise and admiration and, seeing as this movie kind of stealthily released back in October, it’s a buried diamond in the 2014 movie rough that deserves to be discovered and, seeing how it’s available on Amazon Instant for $4, doing so for yourself couldn’t be easier.

8. Under The Skin

When I saw Under The Skin, the latest film from Birth and Sexy Beast director Jonathan Glazer last Good Friday (yeah it was that long ago), I knew I had seen a mesmerizing, transporting and strong experimental effort, but I also said to myself (and to others in my original review) that I didn’t know if I could do it analytical justice after only having seen it once.  Part of that came from how much there was to digest and also, I’m going to admit it; I wasn’t smart enough to completely understand it. But then a funny thing happened; as months passed and the end of 2014 approached, I found myself referring back to this movie constantly, which made me realize just how deeply it’s stuck with me and, amazingly, despite so much time separating the film and my experience seeing it, I feel as if I understand and admire it so much more now.  That’s saying something, given that I don’t always remember movies that vividly and that long after seeing them and also, it’s rare that a movie will improve in my mind that far out by just thinking about it and remembering its scenes, story and set-up.  I guess that makes the title doubly fitting, and now I feel I can better express my feelings for this excellent movie and better explain why it’s worth the experience, even if you don’t end up getting it like I initially didn’t (and, in some cases, I might still not until I revisit it, which I really want to put time aside to do).

Scarlett Johannson stars as an unnamed woman in Scotland who, as the movie opens, we see dead and having her body being transported by a man on a motorcycle.  I guess she was killed, but it doesn’t stay that way for long because she literally steps back into her skin and she begins driving through the cities and country-sides in a white panel van.  She drives around and picks up random men who are looking for a ride somewhere, but also have something else coming into their minds, if you get my drift.  As such, she takes them back to an old shack where she seduces them and, well, basically sucks the life out of them.  It seems like the speed in which the men are eliminated correlate with their inability to control their libidos (the more their minds have a sexual tunnel vision for the women, the less they and we see of her body and the sooner they die), but there’s one disfigured man she picks up who is pure of heart and mind and is spared.  This, along with some other things, seems to change the woman’s outlook; someone who was driving around picking up men confidently and without any hesitation about what she was doing or why now seems to become more physically and emotionally isolated, causing her to go to a small village where she meets a man on the bus who takes her in.

There are probably going to be two trains of thought to people reading that synopsis; the first being that of utter confusion, wondering what I see in what sounds like a really off-kilter film, and the second being people who liked it even more than me saying that I botched the description of what the movie’s about or said too much.  Actually, to the latter point, this is a hard one to talk about and I tried to give a basic idea of what it’s about, while fully knowing that there’s much more to this film.  In fact, of the reviews and analysis I’ve read, many seem to explain who this woman is in her rebirth, which I’m refraining from doing, as I’d argue it’s something of spoiler and also, given the kind of heavily symbolic and cryptic movie this is, even that explanation may be just a baseline. To the former, yeah, this is a strange movie, but it’s also probably the most unique film of the year and, even if you don’t understand any of it, it’s always really interesting, engrossing and appropriately atmospheric watching this woman and seeing where she and the movie will go next, the latter of which I never could predict ahead of time.  Credit there goes to the sharp script and atmospheric direction by Jonathan Glazer, the intoxicating cinematography and music and also, Scarlett Johannson, giving a subtle and focused, but also commanding turn as the woman that gives us a sense of her struggles, even when we’re trying to determine what they are and what they may or may not mean.  

What I also liked about this movie is that it’s never just bizarre and enigmatic just for its own sake; everything in it does seem of a purpose with the themes and explorations of the story, and, as was the case when I first saw it, you don’t need to totally know everything about the movie to pick up on them.  The woman’s story is one with intriguing themes of predation, isolation (specifically the woman’s, late in the movie) and the differences between and male and female views of sexuality and there’s smart insights and reflexive commentary going on regarding them all.  For example, the idea of this woman seeking out men the way she does is something of a change from what’s seen in many films and even the idea of her using her body to reveal their decadence and punish them for it plays out in a different way than the typical simplistic female revenge exercises we see.  

For one thing, Scarlett Johannson in this movie isn’t overly glamorized or made-up in the way we often see in movies with sexualized women and also, I believe Johannson put on weight for this role, which further helps to demystify the archetype of the mysterious, desired and eroticized woman (one that, ironically, was lazily and troublingly reinforced by Johannson herself last year in Lucy, a film that seemed designed as the mass-market version of this one, sans the meaning and justification). That actually has an interesting effect on the audience, in that, the idea of seeing a more grounded depiction of female beauty and anatomy makes the film more authentically hypnotic and erotic than with the traditional bombshell, while also effectively reflecting the mindset of the men she picks up.  That opens the door to the film’s exploration of, among other things, the different views of men and women regarding sex, that also surprising us with how wide that spectrum really can be and it’s particularly well underlined and poignant regarding the bond between the woman and the disfigured man.  

Admittingly, that’s just one example, but Under The Skin has many more ideas like that and the movie, as a whole, has some clear themes and emotions that you’ll pick up, even as you find yourself trying to understand it all. With a lot of thought, though (and even better, extra viewings), it clicks and reveals a level of unique depth, intrigue and insight that makes the film stand out, as do the the expert craft, acting and aura it exudes.  The narrative content and the aural and visual form of this movie mesh perfectly together and, unlike some art-house fare, I never felt that this was self-consciously artsy, pretentious, bonkers with its messages/ideas or making the audience feel like they’re somehow a lesser person for not get everything.  On the contrary, I enjoyed the ride as it was, but I also felt really uplifted and interested in the originality of the movie and, of the bits and pieces I did pick up, it intrigued me in trying to put all the pieces together afterwards and it made me feel as if it was well worth the mental effort.  That’s quite a statement, as not all movies are even worth thinking about after leaving the theater and, hence, that’s why I still think back to this one often, why it’s on this list and why I highly suggest it for adventurous and open-minded adult viewers looking for something indelible and unique.

9. Begin Again

If you’re not aware, aside from movies, music is a big thing for me.  I’m a big fan of great music and have a great interest in the effects that music and the creation of music can have on people.  I saw a couple of films that explored that concept this year, some of them being quite good, but writer-director John Carney’s Begin Again stood alone as easily the best one.  Going into this, I didn’t know what to expect from it, since I didn’t see Carney’s previous film, the widely heralded Once from 2007, but I did hear from some critics who said Begin Again was an inferior picture.  Maybe when I finally catch up to Once, I may agree, but even then, it might be more a situation of a filmmaker’s follow-up to a once-in-a-lifetime triumph simply suffering by comparison than it being bad, because this refreshingly intelligent, passionate and excellent movie is absolutely the furthest thing from bad and it’s one of 2014’s greatest hidden gems.  

The film opens in a New York bar during an open mic night, where Steve (played by James Corden) convinces close friend Gretta (Keira Knightley) to go up and play/sing a song she wrote.  Also present in the bar is Dan (Mark Ruffalo), co-owner of a music label who has creatively, professionally and personally hit the skids and is drowning himself in alcohol. Actually, the film initially crosses back to that night in the bar after jumping back in time to show how all three of these characters got there (and how they’re feeling about it) and, at least in Dan’s case, it’s the moment he was waiting for.  He strikes up a conversation with Gretta, as he wants to make a record with her, as he’s convinced she shows musical promise in all the ways he was begging to find it earlier in the day with the CDs sent to his label (by the way, that scene of him reacting to those submissions while driving his car is hilarious).  Gretta is actually planning on leaving to return to the UK the next day, following a bad break-up with musician boyfriend Dave (Maroon 5’s Adam Levine), but she takes up Dan’s offer and he comes up with a crazy idea; make an album of music in Gretta’s style and record it public all around New York, with the city sounds and citizens as background noise.  Indeed it is crazy, but there certainly is a logic to the madness, as Dan seeks out up-and-coming aspiring musicians for the instruments he feels the songs could be enhanced with, and Steve provides surprisingly high-quality recording equipment and handles sound balancing and location ideas for laying down the tracks.  This plan also catches the attention of Dan’s resentful daughter, Violet (Hallie Steinfeld), who just might have a secret talent for playing the guitar hidden away somewhere…

I can almost hear you thinking right now that, with that setup, this is going to be some hokey, jokey and tonally overextended exercise, but it’s not.  This is the power of suspension of disbelief at work, folks, as the strength of the writing and direction allow the movie to avoid the clichés you’d expect from its premise and show such a great attention to detail of the realities of music making, the music industry (the ending is particularly on-point about that angle) and the acknowledgement of how much of a potential acoustic nightmare Dan’s idea could become, that you completely buy into the story.  For example, their first song is recorded in a dingy alley and Dan and Steve are constantly talking about how the close quarters will reflect the sound waves so that the music won’t be terribly drowned out by the honking car horns or sirens and yet, they find another problem; there are kids talking and hitting a ball against a trash can in the alley.  What to do?  The film, or more specifically, Dan, clearly thought this out, so Dan heads over to try and bribe the kids to leave, but instead, thinks to himself “hey, this song could use backing vocals!,” so he pays the kids to provide them (which they do pretty well).  There are many scenes like that in this film which work as comedy, character development and a more realistic idea of music recording than you might expect from people trying to let the life of New York City provide extra ambiance to their album.

And what about the music they make?  Well, it’s excellent. As you may expect from a film with such a heavy focus on the world of music as a business and art form, the original songs here have some industry assistance, of sorts, in their creation, most notably from Gregg Alexander of The New Radicals (of You Get What You Give fame) and Adam Levine, who also acts here as Dave.  But don’t think their involvement is just a cynical attempt at adding music world street cred to this film; both are clearly in sync with director John Carney’s vision and their contributions result in a very eclectic mix of memorable and catchy tunes, that showcase strong musical and singing talent from them, but also from the cast.  As expected, Levine sings here, but we also hear strong vocal stylings from James Corden (who clearly had a musical year at the movies in 2014 between this, Into The Woods and One Chance, the latter being the only one where he didn’t actually sing the song) and, perhaps most surprisingly and winningly, Keira Knightley.

Listen, as an actress, Keira Knightley became big on the back of the Pirates Of The Caribbean movies and, since then, it seems people either love her or hate her as an actress. I’m generally more in the middle, as I’ve admired her in some films and not liked her in others, but her turn in Begin Again is something else.  She is absolutely glorious and pitch-perfect here, as she nails every light and heavy emotion of Gretta just right (including that great scene where she comes to a realization about Dave with just her eyes and body language), holds down her British accent perfectly and has expert timing and byplay with the rest of the cast (particularly Mark Ruffalo’s Dan, most notable when they get into the discussion of famous artists balancing between making money while still maintaining a pursuit of artistic expression).  As far as her singing voice, I bet there will be some who say that she’s bad in this because her singing here isn’t showing off Broadway-like pipes, nor is it vocals that are “Oh my God, amazing!”  For this movie, though, it works perfectly and it actually makes her performance better.  As the film opens, Gretta wants to be a musician, writing, playing and singing music, but she’s clearly nervous to go up on the stage and only through the rest of the movie do we see her building up her confidence that allows her talents to shine in just the way she wants them to as a performer. She’s not attempting to be an opera singer here and bombastic singing like that may not have made her character believable, so this approach works, and it also perfectly reflects the moods and styles of these great songs. 

That being said, this isn’t just Knightley’s film here (though she is biggest surprise here and one that I think may very well convert people who don’t like her acting), as all the performances are top-notch, unique and irreplaceable in big roles and small. Mark Ruffalo's messed up, but still authentic, believable, smart and funny as Dan, his daughter and ex-wife, played by Hailee Steinfeld and Catherine Keener, respectively are quite winning, and Cordon is excellent as Steve. I was also pleasantly delighted by the famous musicians acting in this film; Ceelo Green is quite entertaining as an old client of Dan’s who was able to make it big thanks to him, Mos Def is interesting as Dan’s business partner and Adam Levine shows great naturalism and depth as Dave.  Yeah, he’s not a good guy, but there is an authenticity to how he plays the role and the film lets us see the dimensions of the character.  As was the case with having P!nk in Thanks For Sharing, having Levine here is not stunt casting and he’s good enough here to show that show that he could feasibly go forward as an actor and do well with it if he so desires.

As a person with an interest in music, movies and strong mixtures of those two topics, Begin Again was a delightful surprise.  But even if you’re not as interested in music as I am, the strength of the performances and the craft of this movie will draw you in and keep you invested and entertained. Also, seeing how it’s not exactly the most well-known film of the year, that increases the chances that you might have missed it and this is certainly an excellent effort that, like a great music performance, deserves a large and adoring audience.

10. Wild  

Of all the films on my top 10, my feelings of admiration are probably the most subtle and quiet regarding Wild, but that’s kind of appropriate given how reserved and observant this movie is.  That kind of surprised me, because this film, based on the memoir of Cheryl Strayed, the woman who, in the early to mid-1990s, went a marathon hike from the Mohave desert to the Oregon-Washington state border, seemed from its coming attractions to be a story of a strong, but distressed woman with all the familiar narrative beats of heavy-handed symbolism, feminism and sentimentality. On top of that, this film was directed by Jean-Marc Vallée, whose Dallas Buyers Club was brilliantly acted (and did deserve Oscar wins for Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto), but was brought down by his lack of a light touch regarding some of those things. To be fair, Wild does have one moment like that, but it’s really quick and aside from it, he and the film march to a different drum with their approach to this material (which can also be said for the material itself), one that I absolutely love, one that makes the story and its underlying themes completely authentic and one that got me completely absorbed in this world and its characters.  

Reese Witherspoon stars as Cheryl who, as the movie opens, we see at the top of a mountain with pretty nasty injuries to her feet.  We then cut back to a few days earlier when she began her long hike and see her begin the trek on the side of the I-5 in California (if you’ve ever lived on the West Coast, you’ll also know that’s what it is due to those Freeway Entrance signs).  She walks by day, camps at night (sometimes with difficulty due to mistakes she made during supply preparation, particularly regarding gas for her portable stove) and leaves literary quotations in the notebooks at each signpost on the trail. So, why is she doing this?  Well, it has something to do with how Cheryl has had recent difficulties with heroin use and sexual promiscuity and frequently thinks back to her days living with her family, particularly her mother, Bobbi, played by Laura Dern, and, in a sense, sees this journey as something important she needs to do.  But even if she finishes the trek, what will it mean for her future?

As I said, and have said many times already during this best of essay (perhaps signaling a theme running through my top 10 this year), it sounds like Wild is covering well-trodden narrative and thematic ground and, by my own admission, I’m remaining a bit coy on a good amount of its plot and character details, as some come to light early on and, I think, are worth going in not knowing about them like I did. Having said that, what makes this movie so great and affecting is its dialed back and quiet rhythm that, along with being an interesting approach to material like this, does a great job of tying into and drawing us into Cheryl’s physical and emotional journey.  Being alone on this hike and only rarely running into other people, Cheryl has a lot of time to let her mind roam across an even more vast mental landscape than the tangible ones she faces, which results in her noticing little details that, to us, may not seem poignant, but soon become so as we vividly see the effects they have on Cheryl, understand their importance to her and find ourselves relating to how and what these little things trigger in her mind.  

Sometimes it’s as simple as seeing a wild animal or a small bush and other times, Cheryl finds herself struggling in some way, such as the aforementioned foot injuries or her realization that she packed the wrong kind of gas for her portable stove, forcing her to live on mush for the next few days and, among these things, they act as psychological triggers of past memories, both good and bad.  On that front, the film is always fascinating and on-point as, through Cheryl, it reflects and encapsulates, probably better than any movie in recent years, how our stream of consciousness works, particularly when we’re alone and attempting to work through challenges.  Speaking from personal experience, when I find myself going through tough times, my mind constantly wanders all over the place and often, deep memories, either high or low, come roaring back just from some visual or aural trigger and, although they may not mean anything else to anyone, they have an effect on me that causes my mood to react accordingly. Cheryl’s the same way in this movie and, along with providing us with piercing insights into her fragile psyche, sometimes these triggers lead to delightful moments of levity, such as Cheryl drolly and sarcastically speaking her inner thoughts, getting a song she remembers endlessly stuck in her head or even trying to adjust her body to the massive weight of her hiking pack in a hotel room.

Often, the mental triggers of Cheryl’s lead to the movie giving us a flashback to further illuminate her current mindset and provide us small pieces of the puzzle that is her life and, after having seen so many movies over the past few years where flashbacks are overdone, stop the film’s pacing dead in its tracks or is just plain superfluous, here’s a movie that uses them brilliantly and shows us how flashbacks should be handled in every film that utilizes them.  Even with as many jumps back and forth through time as there are here, the film perfectly times them to connect with the appropriate points during Cheryl’s trek to justify them, while also giving us exactly the right amount of additional information and context to who Cheryl is and why these events still matter to her.  Of these, some of the most joyous and heartbreakingly effective ones show the how deep the bond between Cheryl and Bobbi goes, such as their comradery as Bobbi joins her daughter at school to gain a greater education to support her family, some… later developments that I’m not going to spoil and probably my favorite one, the scene at the dinner table when Cheryl gets angry that her mother is overly happy despite all the things going wrong in her and her family’s life.  What starts as a seemingly tense discussion between mother and daughter quietly builds to a powerful, affecting and personally relatable crescendo as we hear the way that Bobbi explains why she works to keep her spirits up when things go bad and why she’s not just avoiding her painful realities.  In fact, there’s a line Bobbi uses here to emphasize that, which, I swear to God, is something my mother has said verbatim to me, so that may also have something to do with it hitting home for me… well, along with that character having an undying love for animals and driving a Volvo 240 DL circa the early 1990s.

The strength of this movie, its themes and its characterizations are further cemented by the strong writing, direction and especially acting on display here. The cinematography does a great job of drawing us into outdoor atmosphere and landscape of the West Coast deserts, forests and mountains that accompany Cheryl on her trek, while also combining with her thoughts and challenges that drive the narrative to make this world feel endlessly vast, unpredictable and potentially dangerous, while also somehow giving off an intimate and peaceful aura.  Similarly, the movie’s pacing goes between being rapid fire, but never hasty, with its plot and character developments, while also having deliberately meditative moments that contextualize and support the story quite nicely and kept me engrossed throughout without ever feeling like the film was dragging or just spinning its wheels in the quieter passages.  The great Nick Hornby adapts Cheryl Strayed’s memoir here, and the screenplay is sharp, believable and does a fantastic job of balancing its lighter and darker tones and making each of them working in their intended ways, while keeping the film from becoming too somber or too sanguine.  

And then we have the acting, which showcases strong supporting roles from Keene McRae as Cheryl’s brother, Thomas Sadoski as Cheryl’s ex-husband and Michiel Huisman as an Oregonian man Cheryl meets in 1995 in the wake of the death of The Grateful Dead’s Jerry Garcia, but most noticeably shines in its two major roles.  Laura Dern is positively winning as Bobbi and is easily giving her best performance in a while here, while also showcasing the kind of multifaceted caring mother character that her similar, but completely underwhelming role in The Fault In Our Stars was aiming to be, but missed by a country mile and, regarding Reese Witherspoon as Cheryl, she’s spot-on.  Witherspoon brings a uniquely low-key, dedicated and intriguingly unglamorous intensity to her role that makes both her acting talents and the indelible personality of Cheryl stand out and makes us more than willing to follow her in every step of her journey, and that’s quite fitting, given that you can apply all those same traits wonderfully to Wild, as a whole, which also stands out as one of the most delightful and impacting surprises I had at the movies in 2014.  Not to mention, even though I said I was more reserved on my affection for this one than some other film on my 10 best, this was one of the few movies I saw this year that I knew I really liked coming out of it, but resulted in me quickly and tangibly feeling my admiration for intensifying as time trudged on, including right now as I discuss it.   And now, for the 11-20, in no particular order or, should I say, the 11-21. Yeah, to make up for it taking me an unacceptably long time to get this best of essay out, I’m tossing in a bonus honorable mention, so here are the next 11 best films of 2014 that are worth seeking out: 

Gone Girl

If you’d have asked me to predict what films would have made my 10 Best List back when David Fincher’s adaptation of the Gillian Flynn novel opened in October, Gone Girl would have been a lock.  Sadly, I just couldn’t find room for this one in the Top 10 after seeing some of the films that came later, but I still absolutely adore this bizarre, surprising, resonant and, in its wonderfully messed up way, delightful tale of a married Missouri man whose wife goes missing, resulting in a media blitz and nationwide fascination to find her.  I actually was not familiar with this book and I mostly went into the film cold, without even having seen many trailers to it and I just loved seeing a story that is something of a ripped from the headlines idea deliver so many shocking and unpredictable turns that kept me glued to the screen, while also admiring the expert craft of everyone involved in making it all work so well and in so many different ways.  If you just want entertainment out of this movie, you’ve got it, as it’s fun to follow the mystery here to its eventual conclusion, but the film also delivers as an on-point, intelligent, timely, sardonic and chilling document of modern day crime investigations, media reactions to said investigations and, ultimately, way past dysfunctional marriages.  Flynn wrote the sharp screenplay to this film herself and, based on how accurate I’ve heard this is to her original book, despite some changes, it seems we finally have someone who understands that books and movies are not the same medium and shouldn’t be treated as such (The Hobbit films, anyone?), and her strong work here is backed up nicely by  nomination worthy turns by Ben Affleck, Rosamind Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Kim Dickens, Carrie Coon and Tyler Perry, the moody music score of Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor, and Fincher’s masterful direction that exudes  great atmosphere and uncoils this story with a level of confidence, continuity and delicious deviousness reminiscent of a great Hitchcock picture, along with being a rare film that, I think, doesn’t have a single scene that could have possibly been cut.

Noah

Another one that’s killing me not to have in the top 10, this was the most visible, most controversial and, I’d say, best Christian themed film in a year that had about 7 or 8 other options.  I had to stick up for Darren Aronofsky’s excellent interpretation of the story of Noah’s Ark and God’s great flood to wash away the wicked from both sides, from the conservatives and Christians who probably didn’t see the film, but said it was inaccurate to the Bible and left-wing global warming propaganda (it’s neither and they were completely unfair to it), to the liberal film critics who did see it, but held it to impossible standards and used their reviews to blaspheme and degrade Christians and Christianity in a way they never could get away with doing to other religions (the What The Flick review was particularly shameful on both those fronts).  As a Catholic, I love Aronofsky’s approach because of the way he expands the concept of Noah’s story and perfectly intertwines it with the overarching theme of the preceding chapters in the book of Genesis, including the idea of original sin by Adam and Eve and the lack of respect by humanity for the land given to them starting from Cain and Abel, both in perfect keeping with the reason for the flood and Noah wondering if he is doing God’s work, if he can do it and what that choice may mean to him. Some argue that they changed biblical details and point to Aronofsky expressing in interviews a desire to make a more all-encompassing film, but, to the latter, the film’s exploration of free will and determining personal morality is a wide-reaching concept that I know many religious and non-religious viewers can relate to and, for the former, the film has a tangible, respectful and powerful spiritual aura for believers that, like The Passion Of The Christ, makes this familiar biblical tale visceral, vivid and scripturally on-point.  Also, just like that film from 10 years ago, theology aside, this is just a really great movie, with top-flight filmmaking, a sweeping scope (the mix of visual effects and the real sets, particularly the ark, is seamless and beautiful), and great direction, pacing, writing and especially acting, including Russell Crowe, perfectly capturing Noah’s dedication and internal struggles, Jennifer Connelly, doing her best work in years as Noah’s wife, Naameh, and co-stars Emma Watson, Logan Lerman, Anthony Hopkins, and Ray Winstone, all adding to this fantastic religious epic.

A Most Violent Year

Remember how I said I’ve been really bad with getting this whole best of the year list thing done? Well, here’s a film that, as I’m typing the write-up to it, I literally just saw (because it just expanded after releasing in very limited engagements with literally hours left before 2014’s end), which makes me so glad I dragged my knuckles over this essay, because otherwise, I never would have been able to discuss this great and engrossing film that almost made my top 10.  A Most Violent Year is the latest from All Is Lost director J.C. Chandor, telling the story of Abel Morales (Oscar Issac), an up and coming oil-business owner in 1981 New York attempting to close on a key piece of land to expand his company amidst a pattern of criminal acts and threats being thrown at him.  To make things worse, a district attorney tasked with cleaning up the corrupt oil industry (David Oyelowo) is bringing charges of shady and illegal business tactics towards Abel and both Abel’s attorney (Albert Brooks) and Abel’s wife (Jessica Chastain), the latter of whom also runs the books for the company, are clearly not in agreement with how Abel’s handling that or the violence aimed at him.  This film is fascinating in its look at the complicated and snaky morality of the story and situations as it relates to these characters, specifically from the perspective of Abel, who seems to want to be legit, but also wants to be the best, and the journey towards seeing where that cross-section will be drawn for him and by him is rich, intelligent, mature and unpredictable. Also, the film does a great job of contrasting that with the perspectives of those surrounding him, particularly his wife, who has undying support of Abel, but also is far more willing to get her hands dirty to get what she wants, and, uniquely, what she wants and her reasons for it aren’t always selfish or selfless.  The film also benefits from strong direction, great writing, a dead-on atmosphere for early-80s crime ridden New York, great cinematography providing narratively fitting and intoxicating low-key lighting, saturated colors and use of shadows (all of which gave me a strong and tangible Mean Streets vibe out of this), great sound design and music, some of the best pacing and build-up to legitimately shocking scenes of any movie this year, and excellent acting that makes this tale and its players really resonate and fascinate, from supporting players like David Oyelowo and Albert Brooks, to leads of Jessica Chastain, turning in one of her best performances, and at the center, Oscar Issac who, between strong turns in this and Inside Llewyn Davis, is definitely the real deal as an actor and deserves to become a well-known star (and that’ll certainly happen, if only because he’s in the upcoming Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens, but while you wait for that one, get a head start by seeing this excellent effort).        

Godzilla

The first great (and for that matter, good) film to come out of the summer of 2014, Monsters director Gareth Edwards was given the keys to the Toho monster movie icon and a budget that was 200 times more than his aforementioned movie and man, did he come through with Godzilla.  I’m still kind of shocked as just how great this movie turned out, especially given all the narrative risks it takes and expertly execute.  The idea of holding Godzilla off until later in the film is still a bit of a debatable decision in the minds of some, but I think it’s great, as it gives us a chance to get immersed in this world before the green lizard shows up, shows the expert understanding of pacing, control of tension and setting of a mood that Edwards is already showing us after directing very few movies and does probably the best job of any entertainment film in years of tapping into modern disasters and tragedies of the 9/11, Asian tsunami and Katrina varieties while tangibly capturing the confusion and terror of them and making it contextual to the film while not for one second feeling like uneasy trifling or sanctimoniously making the movie seem more important than it is. Also, I’m in the minority here in actually liking the human performances, as they add more interest and weight to this movie than in other films where, let’s be honest,  we’re not going to them primarily for the people (especially by Bryan Cranston, who I think does Supporting Actor worthy work in a film that we’d probably never would think to look for it in) and even the story is a cool take-off of the Godzilla films of yore, including the great opening that uses the original 1954 film a launching point for this worthy new one. Yeah, you may have thought you’d only get great special effects, art direction, creature designs and great creature action out of Godzilla, but you get that and much more, which I love out of my big-budget summer entertainments and apparently, other people love, too, given that this one did well enough for a sequel and that the crowd I saw it with gave this one the most roaring cheers and applause during the movie than anything I saw all year (and yes, I was right there cheering along with them).

Mockingjay Volume 1

I started soft on these Hunger Games pictures by liking, but not loving the original, but ever since Catching Fire, these movies have really… well, caught fire as first-class entertainments.  The first film based on the final book in this franchise is the best one so far and it’s one of those rare Hollywood miracles like Godzilla or How To Train Your Dragon 2 that has a level of quality and intrigue that we want out of EVERY major release that comes out.  The continuing chronicles of Katniss Everdeen is an engrossing, masterfully directed, paced and staged film with an intelligent, well-told and well-balanced story that tangibly captures and explores Katniss’s mental anguish in a way that doesn’t feel heavy-handed or sadistic (take that, Divergent) and nicely contrasts that with her character’s heart and dedication, as well as her becoming the reluctant face of an underground resistance movement, a concept that plays out here in surprisingly grounded, authentic and affecting fashion.  Credit for all that goes to the sharp script, some of the year’s most immersive and best sound design and first rate acting from everyone in this cast, including strong supporting work from Donald Sutherland, Jeffery Wright, Julianne Moore and Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and, most notably of the lead roles, Jennifer Lawrence, bringing an intensity, focus and naturalism here that surpasses her strong turns in the first two films and is a role far more deserving of Oscar attention that terribly pushy one she was rewarded for in American Hustle last year.  I will say this could have and should have been just one movie, as its pace is brisk enough and the books’ fans are dedicated enough to take a 4 hour picture, but if they have to make multiple movies on one book, this is the way to do it, even though the wait for Volume 2 is going to be harder now.  But, to be fair, I think I still need time to recover from the third act of this one, which has an expertly staged shock to the system that’s only surpassed by Nightcrawler as the strongest and most nerve-wrackingly wonderful cinematic gut punch I took in 2014.  

A Most Wanted Man

Back in 2011, we got the film adaptation of John LaCarre’s Tinker Tailor Solider Spy, which got pretty high on my 10 Best List that year (it was my #4 choice).  2014 brought us another strong LaCarre-based film in A Most Wanted Man, an absorbing, airy, atmospheric, expertly crafted, and expertly acted spy/terrorism drama from director Anton Corbijn (The American). The film is already notable for having the final lead role of Phillip Seymour Hoffman (he’ll have his final movie in Mockingjay Volume 2) and it’s a memorable and strong reminder of his great acting talents in delivering a complete and intriguing character and just how big his loss really was.  Here, he plays a government spy positioned in Germany after 9/11 and he, along with the film, perfectly capture that time period and global mindset of trying to avoid having another potential terror plot slip through agencies’ fingers, while also delicately, intelligently and fascinatingly exploring the balance between and difficulty in fighting terrorism without resorting to either the xenophobic fear-mongering of certain ethnic groups or the equally damaging naiveté and coddling of said aggrieved cultures.  Also, this is a film that allows for gray areas on a difficult and complex subject and it has the guts to be smart and allow its audience to also be smart in following everything in it while, somehow, never making us feel like we’re being talked down to, which speaks even better for the excellent writing and storytelling, as well as strong supporting turns from Rachel McAdams (in arguably a career best role), Willam Dafoe (far better served here in 2014 than in Nymphomaniac Volume 2 and The Fault In Our Stars), Robin Wright, Grigoriy Dobrygin, Homayoun Ershadi, and Daniel Bruhl.  

Birdman

Listen; this one missed the top 10 because I don’t think it’s quite the groundbreaking masterpiece it’s widely claimed to be; the subject matter, though interesting and well-explored, has been done better before, the faux-one unbroken shot cinematography, though justified, risky and involving, always made me notice the technique a bit too much and movie’s a bit too on the nose with some of its pretentious touches and elements (namely, seeing the drummer doing the score as a character).  But I’d be lying if I said this latest effort from Babel director Alejandro González Iñárritu wasn’t a strong and intriguing effort and it is one that holds up and, I’d say, improves on a second viewing. This movie tells the story of Riggan (Michael Keaton), who once starred in two films as the famous superhero Birdman (no relation to the old Hanna Barbara cartoons, or the Adult Swim show, Harvey Birdman: Attorney At Law that they inspired) and now, after those two career defining works and years of being out of the limelight, he’s now opening a Raymond Carver adaptation on Broadway to satisfy his deteriorating psyche and show the world his passion for and to artistry.   This one gets the world of showbiz and stage plays just right, including the terminology, the frequent improvisation to make it all work, the societal influences and the trappings of their theater, the latter of which almost becomes a character in and of itself.  Also, there’s the acting, which has gotten high accolades and for great reasons; all the actors are the top of their game here, including Naomi Watts, Edward Norton, Emma Stone, Zach Galifianakis and especially the great Michael Keaton, whom it’s great to see back to remind us why he became a star in the first place and who may very well win the Oscar for this role that, when you think about it, is something of a reflexive look at his own career and the landscape of superhero fare post-Batman Returns (and some bits here are clear shots at some of the later and lesser Batman films and other comic adaptations, both cinematically and elsewhere, in general).

If I Stay

When it comes to young-adult teenage melodrama novels adapted into films, everyone seemed to fall in love with The Fault In Our Stars this year, but I didn’t, because I think it was dramatically shameless and hypocritical.  If I Stay was the antidote to that overrated misfire that I was looking for; this adaptation of a young adult novel about a teenage girl’s passions for life and love and the battle she’s in with her own mortality is better made and acted than the one I just put down and it’s far more interesting, honest and moving throughout.   Chloe Grace Moretz shines here as Julliard aspiring cellist Mia, who finds herself in a coma after her and her family end up in a car crash, but is able to move around ethereally and mentally as she waits and hopes that she and her family will survive.  In between the scenes with Mia in the hospital, we see her growth, particularly as it relates to her love of her friend and family, the boy that she’d recently been falling out with, playing the cello and classical music (except for Blondie, apparently, and, more obviously, The Beatles, which the movie gets dead-on as, speaking from personal experience, not even the hardcore “classical music or bust” types can avoid making an exception for them).  Yes, we’ve seen some of these elements before and some, like Mia’s first time having sex and some early fights with her object of affection, could have been better handled, but most every other one is executed in an interesting and more in-depth manner than I went in expecting and, unlike other similar films, I never felt this one cloying or condescending to me. Documentarian R.J Cutler deserves credit for giving his first fiction feature the level of truth it has, as does screenwriter Shauna Cross for making the material, world and players of Gayle Forman’s book feel authentic and lived-in, particularly regarding its look at the power of music to give Mia her unique voice (perfectly capped off with a great and unique cover of The Smashing Pumpkins’ Today), the world of amateur musicians and also, the view of Mia’s family, including her former rocker parents (Joshua Leonard and Mireille Enos) and her grandfather (Stacy Keach, who’s excellent, even in the small role it is). Also, in a year with many films without a need to have a jagged narrative structure, this, along with Wild, is one that actually justifies it, as it dovetails perfectly with the film’s overall look at the ups and downs of young life.  Many seem to hate this one (it’s on a bunch of 10 worst lists I’ve seen) while loving The Fault In Our Stars, so what can I say? I’m a contrarian… and when it comes to teenage melodramas, I also have taste.

Kill The Messenger

This biopic about San Jose Mercury News journalist Gary Webb’s discovery and expose of classified government evidence of the CIA hypocritically shipping cocaine into the US to prop up the Nicaraguan Contra rebels in the war-on-drugs days of the 1980s and the resulting smears, threats and intimidation from the political and journalistic elite kind of got lost in the shuffle when it came out in October (despite dropping at a time when we got most of the same above misinformation and vilification coming out of the government during the Ebola crisis).  That’s too bad, because this was one smart, intriguing and very well-acted film that has the air of authenticity in its story and about politics, journalism, the media and the bond between all three (a relationship that often seems to bounce between hostile and incestuous).  Jeremy Renner plays Webb in this film in a dominating, but patient, focused and Oscar-worthy performance that shows us this complete and complex person that was journalistically brave, but also had some more sordid elements.  The ways that Renner plays all of the scenes he’s in is fascinating, and he is well supported by the other actors, including Rosemarie DeWitt as Webb’s wife, Mary Elizabeth Winstead as a fellow journalist, Oliver Platt as Webb’s boss, and Ray Liotta, great in a cameo scene that’s also one of the most atmospheric and gripping parts of the whole movie.  That being said, this film has many transporting and tension-filled scenes, often done without dialogue or action, such as a potential burglary on Webb’s house or the scene in the hotel parking lot, and they’re further enhanced by these performances, the smart script and the attention to detail of the mid to late 1990s. A true sleeper that’s well worth uncovering when it hits DVD/Blu-Ray.

A Walk Among The Tombstones

Speaking of great films from last fall that deserved a bigger audience, here’s A Walk Among The Tombstones.  Perhaps some people thought this was yet another violent action thriller with Liam Neeson as the multi-capable do-gooder killing machine that he’s played in many other recent movies, but even though this was a nationwide release, this one’s quiet patience, intelligence, artistry and method of telling its story have less in common with something like Taken than they do with a great and attentive indie film made on a shoestring budget. This film is based on the Lawrence Block novel set in 1999 New York, telling the tale of private investigator Matthew Scudder (Neeson) and his search for those involved in the grisly murder of a drug kingpin’s wife and the movie is an engrossing and uncompromising mystery, for sure (and I love all the little clues the film drops that let us play along in trying to solve it, as well as the interrogation scenes that use flashbacks complementing the eyewitnesses’ testimonies), but it’s also a great and patient character study, particularly as it relates to Scudder’s personal baggage and his interaction with others, including a wannabe detective frequenting the local library.  The film also has great cinematography, shot composition, lighting and use of color saturation, perfectly reflecting the world-weary aura of our lead character, as well as the feeling of pre-Y2K New York.  Also, this film is brilliantly written and directed by Scott Frank, who returns from a far too long 7 year feature film directing hiatus since his brilliant The Lookout (another hidden gem you should seek out), giving us a film that could have easily just become a clichéd, brainless and empty exercise in exploitation, but ends up as a surprising and transcendent experience that keeps our interest held throughout regarding its narrative, is exciting to watch just for how it’s constructed/executed and perfectly handles its disturbing and depraved elements so that they have the horrifying weight and impact that they should and enhance the experience instead of taking us out of it (by the way, this film is pushing towards the NC-17 in some places regarding that, so this is definitely one for adults only and you probably shouldn’t let your 11 year olds see it, a memo that some people at my screening didn’t get).  An excellent film made a great director who deserves as much credit for his skills behind the camera as behind the typewriter (which is saying something, given that Frank wrote films like Get Shorty, Out Of Sight and Minority Report) and who, hopefully, won’t make me wait another 7 years for another movie out of him.  

Maleficent

Need proof that it is possible to take a beloved children’s enterprise, make significant changes to it and still make it worthy of its namesake without trampling over it or attempting to replace the earlier works? For 2014, I say that Maleficent is the movie to show that.  Disney took what even they themselves consider the most villainous villainess in their catalog and turned her and the Sleeping Beauty story on its ear, subverting it into something of a character study of Maleficent and also, something of a feminist critique/commentary on fairy tale gender roles, but what could have potentially turned into a glorified social justice warrior rant/trashing of a classic actually turned out, to me, to be a pretty interesting, semi-heady, beautiful, and entertaining movie.  The film takes its new ideas and effectively cross-fertilizes them with the elements of the story that we know and love and has the atmosphere, scope, writing and, specifically, acting to make everything come together, starting at the top with Angelina Jolie’s excellent turn as the title character, playing both the operatic villainy and the more subtle nuances of Maleficent well (Jolie is great in using her body language or bats of her eyes to express herself without words), but also going down through all of the film’s supporting characters, including the three fairies.  Yes, I know most people do not like how these characters are portrayed here, but then again, you don’t usually have the chemistry and byplay between them that Juno Temple, Lesley Manville and Imelda Staunton bring in, either, and, if not for just how good they are here, I may have also said the fairies were a negative. Also, the film is very well directed by first time helmer Robert Stromberg, and he shows a nice control of tone and atmosphere, along with a promising visual eye (love the use of shadows) that really got me into what is certainly the best live-action fantasy film of the year, and one I still vividly and fondly remember 8 months later, neither of which I can say for any of The Hobbit films, including the final one I saw just a little over a month ago.

Well, the end of the year is upon us, so you know what that means; my annual list of the best and worst films of 2014.  We’re starting with the bad stuff first because, to be completely honest, it was easier to do write-ups on those.  That’s because half of the films on this list I already roasted as the 5 worst films of the summer and editing those write-ups to add new concepts and language while delivering similar opinions took less time.  That being said, I did have to write 5 totally fresh passages here, so I wasn’t being lazy with this list, even though the 10 films I selected as the worst of the year are bad enough that I can understand people putting in as little effort as possible to tearing them apart.  But, as is tradition and my own personal code, I go all out on both of my end of year lists, and so I did with the worst. 

There were definitely a bunch of bad movies this year, but definitely some real surprises to me as to what was bad and to what degree.  My selections should give you a better idea of those surprises (and some of my choices are probably going to be shocking and controversial to some) but, of those that didn’t make my list, I was definitely surprised that I ended up not hating Blended or Transformers: Age Of Extinction as much as I thought I might (especially since I refused to see both in the theater) and was also taken aback that some films I really hated were not terrible enough to crack the top 10 when all was said and done, even though I initially predicted they would.  Though, because there were some that deserve extra scorn, along with 10 worst of the year, I’ve also included shorter write-ups on my 11-20 of the 2014’s lowlights. 

With all that said, let’s jump into the movies of 2014 that made me hate being a paying moviegoer (and, of my 10 worst, which I’m starting with, I paid money out of my own pocket to see each of them in a theater) so that later, I can rejoice over the great movies of the year that kept my love of film and film analysis burning bright:

  1. Wish I Was Here 

I have to tell you, I’ve been waiting to tear Zack Braff’s Wish I Was Here many deserved new ones ever since I saw it back in July.  In fact, if you remember that summer 2014 write-up I did, the whole reason I instituted that “major releases only” rule on the films I covered was because of this movie, as I didn’t want to tip my hand on this limited release, which I was pretty convinced would end up as the worst film of 2014.  Now, that the year’s over and that prediction proved true, I can finally let loose.  Seriously, no film this year inspired so much vitriolic hatred and unprintable profanities from me, no film in my entire career of actually going to the theater pushed me closer to breaking my rule of never walking out and no film in recent memory has been so thoroughly loathsome, rage-inducing, disgustingly self-serving and irredeemable in even the slightest way, regarding its filmmaking, it’s overall attitude and, for that matter, the way it finally came to be via Kickstarter.  I have to go into that last point briefly to start, because it is worth mentioning in the context of this atrocious film.  You see, despite Zack Braff’s breakout success with Garden State a decade ago, the Hollywood studios refused to fund this movie and good for them; they did the right thing.  However, Braff, unwilling to take no for an answer, went to Kickstarter to get the rest of the money from fans to finish the film (he got about about $2/3 million) and, now that we have the final product, those innocent backers are now implicated in the myriad of blame for this horrible movie and are probably seeing it as a potent cautionary tale regarding Kickstarter, joining the website’s other terrible downsides, like projects that don’t meet funding and those that deliberately hold out content and features on dedicated backers until they then nickel and dime them for those extras with a future “surprise” funding period (that’s you, Keji Inafune and Mighty Number 9, and Mega Man fans, don’t you dare try to say that that’s not what that was).  

Anyway, Braff stars here as Aidan Bloom (no relation to Jake Gyllenhaal’s sociopathic Louis Bloom from the brilliant Nightcrawler, sadly), a 35 year old Jewish family man, married to his wife Sarah (Kate Hudson) with two children in Tucker (Pierce Gagnon) and Grace (Joey King).  However, he and his family are struggling due to his lack of life direction and, quite frankly, his complete irresponsibility and selfishness, as evidenced by his desire to find his lifelong passion while his wife works hard and makes what little money the family has in a degrading and sexual-harassment friendly cubical job and his willingness to mooch off his father (Mandy Patinkin) to pay for his kids’ private Jewish school education… at least until that well dries up after his father announces he has terminal cancer and that expensive experimental treatments have failed.  So now, Aidan has to do something novel; get off his ass, stop his whole entitled “woe-is-me” bit and act his age for the good of his kids and family.  Meanwhile, Aidan’s brother, Noah (played by Josh Gad, destroying most of the good will he built up after Frozen and Thanks For Sharing), is even more of a lout, living in a trailer as an extremely creepy and borderline psychopathic internet troll with apparent autism who hates the father and is more interested in scoring with a pretty neighbor who’s into cosplaying at San Diego Comic-Con (and yes, that convention did allow their famous logos to be used in here, which gives the con and nerd culture, as a whole, more of a negative connotation than a million irrational and hygiene averse nerds ever could). 

As was the case with Garden State, this is another indie family comedy/drama with elements of parental estrangement, monetary and family difficulties, and, even more blatantly than that movie, unabashed embracing of its Jewish faith, and there’s not a single moment here where even a fraction of any of it works for even a moment.  This came as a real shock to me, given that the setup seemed pretty sound and I really liked Garden State (though, honestly, Wish I Was Here is so horrible that I don’t trust my 3 ½ star review of Garden State anymore and have officially revoked it until I watch it again, lest I was wearing beer goggles on it 10 years ago), so what the hell happened here?  I think part of it is because of how fraudulent a movie this is; there is not a smidgen of anything resembling the authenticity, drama or humor that films like this are all about giving to the audience.  None of the family relationships and struggles feel real or have any interesting or relatable insights to them whatsoever and the film’s tonal shifts literally come faster than a blink of your eye, going from heavy drama to unfunny, forced and vulgar comedy at the most gallingly inappropriate times, making the alleged humorous situations not funny due to the serious undertones and making the dramatic set-pieces sickening in how the film refuses to let it play without an out of nowhere and rank joke being thrown in there.  That’s certainly the case with Noah’s arc, which leads to the most uncomfortable and needless “comedic” sex scene of the year, and especially Kate Hudson's sexual harassment troubles at work, which are mostly played for laughs, which is dubious on its own already, but becomes even more repulsive given how unrealistically the whole situation plays out.  There’s no sexual harassment scenario like the one depicted here that could ever happen in a realistic world in the current day, and authenticity on that topic and every other one in the film is clearly Braff’s intention here (in this case, in reality, the harasser and boss would have been instantly fired and handed criminal charges before the former could be found by Aidan to be confronted in that awful scene in the supermarket). 

Then there are the Jewish themes and undertones of this movie.  I’m all about films exploring and depicting all religious faiths (and, unlike most critics, not just the societally accepted non-Christian ones), but Braff’s way of doing that here is so offensive that it’s mind-boggling.  The film wants us to think that it’s showing a man questioning his faith as he’s having troubles and quandaries in life (like Noah and Heaven Is For Real effectively did, in unique ways, earlier this year), but the movie is basically just showing Aidan as viciously resentful of his Jewish heritage, tossing out Jewish catchphrases as comedic relief and mocking the faith of those he doesn’t like or who are, rightly, upset at him.  This extends especially the character of Aidan’s father, whose faith is a significant and important part of his being, and the teachers and rabbi at the private school, and Braff depicts them all as stereotypical “oy vey” types that he wants the audience to baselessly ridicule along with his character, only on the back of their faith and because they have the guts and moral honesty to tell him to clean up his act of being a whiny, self-pitying and flat-out horrible provider and supporter of his family.  Listen, I’m just going to say it, because no other critic or audience member I’ve heard from has the guts to; I think this movie comes off as brazenly anti-Semitic and an example of Judaistic self-loathing, both of which Braff should be ashamed of himself for.  Also, considering that 2014 was the year where anti-Semitism became widely acceptable again with levels of rancor arguably not seen since the 1940s (especially in Europe and even in certain high levels of the White House), I don’t see anything good or helpful about having such a hateful, horrible and negative film about Jews available in the culture. 

Along with all of that, the characters, such as they are, are simplistic, not well-developed, whiny and unlikable, the children aren’t interesting in the way they are in something like, say, Boyhood (which captures some similar concepts far, far better than this movie does), the pacing is slack, the movie drags badly, the direction is in no way worthy of any artistic mention, the writing is horrible and the acting is mostly subpar, with the exception of, shockingly, Kate Hudson.  Listen, she’s only been good in one movie (Almost Famous, and she was great in that), but, though it’s not saying a damn thing, this is her best performance in years, as, in her role as Sarah, at least she gives a hint of a character who could have been interesting and believable, if the scriptwriters (of which Braff was one of) cared enough to write a good role for her to accentuate the natural talent she’s showing here.  Even so, neither that nor anything else in the movie is even close to a redeemable element that would make me suggest anyone ever see this depressing, rage-inducing and obscene cinematic atrocity, and I’d probably still be in therapy over this film’s awfulness if I didn’t immediately go and buy myself a nice, big ice cream cone after leaving the theater.    

  2. St. Vincent 

Man, what was it with these cloying comedy/dramas wrapped in heavy and overt religious blankets that really tortured and enraged me this year?  First we had Wish I Was Here, giving the Jews more grief that they don’t need, and now, we have St. Vincent having its way with Catholicism.  For what it’s worth, though, this one didn’t bring me to quite the levels of deep cinematic depression or force me to fight back as many vulgar four and twelve letter words in my explanation for hating it as Zack Braff’s film did. However, unlike Wish I Was Here, which is rightly dead and buried, this movie actually has some critical and audience respect behind it and some are saying that the movie and the lead performance by Bill Murray deserve Oscar attention.  Aside from the fact that Bill Murray’s involved, I can’t possibly understand or accept either of those realities and, given how loathsome a film I think this is, over my dead body will any Oscar attention come its way (and if it does, I will be roasting this picture again in my annual “what should and will win Oscars” write-up). 

Bill Murray stars here as Vincent, an angry, stubborn and vulgar Vietnam veteran from Brooklyn with a love of alcohol and prostitutes who has little else left to live for and barely any money to his name.  One day, a divorced MRI technician named Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) moves in next door with her precocious son, Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher), which Vincent hates enough, but he becomes even more enraged when the moving truck causes a branch to fall on and damage Vincent’s car.  Maggie agrees to pay for the damage, but she doesn’t have much money either and is constantly working overtime at the hospital and thus, needs a babysitter for Oliver.  Vincent agrees, but only if he gets paid and thus sets into motion yet another story about a bond between a young boy and salty old man.  As such, we get all the scenes you’d expect relating to Oliver, warming the heart of Vincent, while dealing with his bullying at school and Vincent introducing Oliver to the adult pleasures of life, like drinking, shooting pool, betting on horse racing and prostitution.  Meanwhile, Maggie is struggling with work, money and her divorce from her apparently abusive husband, Vincent has some tacked-on BS about owing mobster Terrance Howard a large sum of money and Daka (Naomi Watts), the pregnant Russian hooker that Vincent’s frequently patrons, is growing closer to Vincent as she prepares for motherhood and, apparently, leaving her life of debauchery. 

God, isn’t that setup so played out?  Yes; yes it is, and writer/director Theodore Melfi doesn’t have anything new, interesting, funny, authentic or insightful to say with any part of this premise and resorts to playing from the same cloying, contrived, treacly and overly precious indie film card deck to try and get us to feel something.  Suffice to say, he and the movie fail at every conceivable step, but even having said that, there’s something uniquely repulsive and loathsome about how this film executes itself.  The overall attitude of this film really stinks, as it constantly rolls around in unmotivated and unseemly negativity that, big surprise, the film pulls a tonal 180 on at the end to make us leave feeling like our hearts have been warmed and that we really love these characters and to cynically and insincerely play up the Catholic and Christian trappings.  Well, it doesn’t work because, along with that move being emotionally and intellectually dishonest, I found it hard to come back to care after dealing with the terribly developed, unbelievable and rank elements of the plot that come before the end, including the reprehensible actions of Vincent, which just seem like horrible behavior that, apparently, are enough to qualify him for sainthood in Oliver and the audience’s mind (no way in hell I’m buying that, even after some late-film events and explanations for how he is, which are offensive trifling with heavy material and most of them just arbitrarily disappear at the end), the mobster material that plays like it comes from a different kind of movie, the divorce angle of Maggie that plays the basest emotional and dramatic cards of a bad Lifetime movie, and the bullying of Oliver, which just stops for no discernable reason and, before then, the beatings are depicted, developed and shot in a sadistic and disgusting way that would have fit as one of the hate crime scenes in American History X, but has no place in a comedy-drama like this. 

Regarding the acting, there’s little praise to be given here, too.  I hear you saying, “Bill Murray’s in this, so he has to be good!” and I’m here to angrily say to you “Cut that insane and biased talk out right now,” because he does a terrible acting job here.  His Vincent is completely one-note and irredeemably vile, but even worse, not for one second did I ever feel like I was seeing a realistic or halfway interesting human being in him, which is clearly what the movie wants us to think and what we should be getting out of a role like this from a talent as great as Bill Murray, meaning that he deserves blame for the bad performance, given that he’s talented enough to single-handedly elevate material that he’s better than.  The supporting cast also isn’t very interesting and, in the case of Naomi Watts, her Daka is, say it with me everyone; THE HOOKER WITH A HEART OF GOLD, and this is an extremely degrading, uninteresting and atrocious role that’s both a massive comedown from Watts’ strong supporting turn in Birdman, and bad enough with the heavy Russian accent to make Magica De Spell from Ducktales look like a three-dimensional subject of a documentary.

That being said, I have to give credit to Jaeden Lieberher and Melissa McCarthy as Oliver and Maggie.  Both have good chemistry as this mother and son, making you wish that the whole movie was about them and, regarding Lieberher, he shows enough natural presence to signal a potential future as a young actor with better material.  McCarthy deserves even more credit, though, because, despite the film destroying all of her attempts to give it anything meaningful or worthwhile (they develop her potentially interesting plights in a hackneyed way and make her character into a complete idiot when the plot requires it), she does show a dramatic range we haven’t seen out of her before, especially in the film’s only good scene, when she goes in for a parent-teacher conference at Oliver’s school and inadvertently lays out her current life struggles in the context of the discussion about her son’s bullying.  Why the rest of the movie couldn’t work as well as that short scene is completely inexcusable and as such, you should avoid this one and, hopefully, send a message that this movie is not synonymous with anything resembling quality or awards-worthy filmmaking, a truism that nothing, including Bill Murray, can change.

3. Tammy

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I really like Melissa McCarthy.  She has significant talent and range that make almost everything she’s in better, but as far as I’m concerned, we still have yet to receive a non-The Life Of David Gale recommendable film with her in it (even Bridesmaids, which I didn’t like, even though she was great in it).  Sadly, that trend continued in the worst possible way in 2014, both with the aforementioned St. Vincent and, a few months before that one, Tammy.  But, in all fairness to St. Vincent, at least she was pointed in the right direction toward making that one work and she’s deserves no blame for its failure.  In that respect, I’d actually say that Tammy is far more damaging to her, as she co-wrote it with her husband, Ben Falcone, who also directed and thus, she deserves significant blame for this husband-wife comedy collaboration/ego trip that’s worse than almost anything the so-called “sexist Hollywood machine” that “doesn’t know how to effectively harness McCarthy” has put out with her.  That, and it’s so bad that I’d see Dirty Love and the Swept Away remake (both were also infamously awful modern married couple-created comedies) again in a heartbeat before revisiting this mess.

McCarthy plays the title role, as an apparently mentally troubled and obese outcast (and if you don’t get that she’s fat and how apparently hil-ar-ious you should find that from that description, the movie will point it out for you during basically every scene) who loses her job at a fast food restaurant, is cheated on by her husband (in the most casual infidelity discovery scene in movie history that, honestly, had me questioning if and doubting that she actually was cheated on) and heads out on an impromptu with her grandmother (Susan Sarandon).  As is the case with pretty much every road trip movie in existence, this one is full “life-affirming” and “life-changing” events that introduce many opportunities for unfunny wacky comedy and unearned pathos, from Tammy committing a robbery, to attending a party attending a party/Valkyrian ritual with her lesbian aunt (played by Kathy Bates), to watching her grandmother having sex (because that’s always funny and/or arousing) to meeting a guy who kind of likes her, apparently because they both bonded over their shared affection for Cheetos and absolutely nothing else. 

I really hate movies like this, because they hedge their bets to try and be a bunch of things to satisfy every possible filmgoer, but then they can’t balance or deliver on any of their disparate elements and end up being satisfying to no one (hell, my list so far has been comprised of nothing but films that fit that description). Tammy is particularly painful to witness, though, given the talent of the many big name actors involved and also because McCarthy and Falcone ruin their chance to make any of this mean anything or to bring McCarthy to a new cinematic height.  Instead, the film condescends to and degrades McCarthy more than arguably anything else she’s been in (with the possible exception of Life As We Know It) and is nothing more than a comedic energy and thematic attitude-free showcase of Tammy’s outrageous and institution-friendly behavior.  Seriously, what is this film trying to say about McCarthy’s character, or, for that matter, any of the other characters here?  We don’t really get to know anyone here or get any idea why any of the events they experience are important, aside from a couple of plot points here and there that are quickly dropped (or worse, introduced, forgotten and then, cynically revisited at the end to try and fail to get an emotional reaction out of us), which is unacceptable for a film like this where those elements are supposed to matter and even more indefensible when there are no laughs. 

Further adding to my pain (and apparently, the pain of two early to mid-20 year old girls at my screening who, understandably, walked out after 10 minutes) is the glacial pacing, frequent false endings, the junky look and direction of the film and especially the cast of extremely talented people who are completely wasted and humiliated here.  Seriously, along with McCarthy and Susan Sarandon, this film also has Allison Janney, Kathy Bates, Sandra Oh and Toni Collette in it, all of whom should have been able to and should been given material to be able to make this interesting, but they can’t and it’s a shame (and Collette and Janney have been on particularly bad losing streaks recently, with the former also having another absolutely nothing role this year in The Boxtrolls, and the latter also wallowing in Mr. Peabody & Sherman and Bad Words).  As I said when I called this the worst major release of the summer, the highlight here is hearing McCarthy decently cover The Outfield’s Your Love and The Allman Brothers’ Band’s Midnight Rider, but, as I’ll point out again a little later on in this write-up, that’s why God invented Youtube; so you can freely see the few halfway decent parts of a movie while rightly depriving the people who made it of your hard-earned money, which they don’t deserve even a penny of.  

4. A Million Ways To Die In The West 

Last summer, I deliberately refused to go see Adam Sandler’s latest, Blended, in the theater, as I’d gotten sick of his recent lack of effort in his mean-spirited and unfunny gross-out comedies and didn’t want to reward him with any of my money.  After seeing Blended on video though, I realized that it wasn’t a terrible movie and, now that I think about it, I’d have been better served taking that hardline stance on Seth MacFarlane’s A Million Ways To Die In The West instead, which turned out to be a reprehensibly smug, self-satisfied, offensive and laugh-free western comedy that, at the very least, didn’t get much money at the box office (though it did get mine and yes, I am ashamed), but at the very most, makes the 2013 bloated Western bomb, The Lone Ranger, look like The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (or perhaps, more appropriately, Dead Man, which some people foolishly thought that film last year was equal in quality to). 

MacFarlane, writes, directs, produces, stars, and attempts to set himself up as eligible for sainthood here as Albert, a white guy living in the 19th century Old West with a 21st century sensibility.  Basically, that means that he’s almost always rattling off his mental scorecard of everything that can horribly end people’s lives while living in such a time.  For reasons too boring and routine to explain, he ends up falling for a new woman in town, played by Charlize Thereon, who just so happens to be the wife of a ruthless outlaw, played by Liam Neeson.  So, we head towards the concept of the final showdown between two men fighting for a woman that we often get in Westerns and, though satirizing that and the entire Western milieu is obviously the whole point of this movie, it certainly isn’t effective at doing either.  

That’s because this movie just isn’t funny.  More specifically, all of its supposed insights and jabs about the Old West are painfully obvious, obviously telegraphed, lazy, annoying and hypocritical, not to mention that the film isn’t interested in leveling with us regarding the incongruity of its old-fashioned setting and new-fashioned lead and what effects, if any, that has on the story and characters.  This movie is too vain and proud of itself to think it needs to provide essential elements like those, which I guess also explains why MacFarlane constantly pushes the envelope with his racial, gender and scatological humor here and attempts to pass it off as pointed and edgy, while it’s actually all ugly, really cheap and stomach-churning.  And speaking of stomach-churning, what were they thinking with the graphic violence in this film?  I take it that the unexpected bursts of gore are intended to induce incredulous laughter, but the focus on the grisly details removes whatever even remote dark humor might have been there and makes me think they put that stuff in to try and save the comedically dying scenes they occupy.   

The other thing that really got me mad about this film is, while it’s not being funny, it has the gall to drag its supposedly humorous scenes out to torturous length.  Sadly, this is something MacFarlane’s notorious for doing, as he frequently does it on his TV shows Family Guy, The Cleveland Show and American Dad and, even when I’ve found those shows funny and entertaining (and I think even long-time fans can attest to this), there’s eventually a time when he takes a comedic scene and keeps going with it, to the point where you’re screaming at the TV for him to cut it out.  A Million Ways To Die In The West does this even more than his three TV shows combined do and when there’s literally nothing funny going on, that comes off to me as offensively self-indulgent.  I didn’t quite recommend MacFarlane’s first film, Ted, but I appreciated it for not constantly stretching its comedic scenes out, so why is MacFarlane returning to that habit here?  Is it because Ted made money and thus, he was allowed to run wild on this one?  

Honestly, this film is a good argument that MacFarlane needs to put himself in check every so often, and not just because of the over-extended jokes.  The film itself is over-extended, at a tortuous 2 hours, and all the Western tropes are painfully predictable and make the film boring without any comedy (save for two semi-smiles, one from Alex Borstein as a senior prostitute and another from “Abraham Lincoln,” but those 10 seconds aren’t nearly enough). Also, the performances suffer; MacFarlane overacts badly in the lead role, Charlize Theron’s merely passable as the love interest, Sarah Silverman continues her near perfect cinematic losing streak (with Wreck-It Ralph being the combo-breaker) as a one-note prostitute who’s only into abstinence with her boyfriend, Liam Neeson is on-screen for under 10 minutes and is unable to wring out the laughs he showed us he could give us as Good Cop/Bad Cop in The Lego Movie and Neil Patrick Harris has a bad accent and moustache and was funnier this year in his more serious turn in Gone Girl.  So, basically there’s no reason to see this movie, but if, for some crazy reason, you still want to check it out, at least avoid the trailers, because there’s one great reference that they totally ruin in them and, if they hadn’t, it would have resulted in at least one laugh.  Guess that’s another reason why MacFarlane should be holding himself back a little.

5. The Skeleton Twins

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZzS8a29XfI.  Yes, for the first time in my movie reviewing gig, I’m opening a review with a link to a Youtube video and it’s of the scene in The Skeleton Twins that has stars Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig lip sync to Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now.  It’s the best scene in the movie, despite being narratively freestanding from it, and there’s the link for you to watch it.  Have you seen it and have you just returned to finish reading this review?  Good; I’ve just saved you a couple of bucks and now, there’s no reason for you to ever see this smarmy, pretentious, insensitive, trite and atrocious indie comedy/drama that, as is the case with a couple of films on my worst of list this year, is somehow widely and critically acclaimed.  I guess critics are more willing to cut slack to non-Hollywood films tackling serious subjects and, as in the case of this one, aren’t willing to be objective, even when their failings are plainly obvious… or because Kristen Wiig is in it, but I’ll get my licks in on that angle later. 

Despite being married in real life, Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader play siblings in this movie, who come together again after a 10 years absence.  What brings them back together?  The fact that Hader, a struggling writer, tries to kill himself by slitting his wrists and Wiig, a struggling married woman, gets the call about that right before she’s about to down a lethal dose of pills.  Wiig decides to invite her brother into her home with her husband, played by Luke Wilson, in order to get Hader’s life back on track and to allow both of the siblings to reconnect.  Meanwhile, Wiig and Wilson are planning on having a child, but Wiig is having second thoughts, while Hader meets up with Ty Burrell, an old acquaintance (referring to him that way is best as I can say without constituting a spoiler). Yes, this sounds like pretty heavy narrative territory, but remember, this is also supposed to be a dark comedy and there’s certainly a lot of potential in the idea of finding relatable gallows humor in topics like suicide, gender identity, mental illness and sexual dysfunction.  Also, when you think about it, this film should have been a slam-dunk, especially given this talented cast, who has shown in the past to be quite good at underplaying to get dialed back humor and insight out of more serious stories. We get that positivity for about 5 milliseconds (not counting the aforementioned lip-syncing scene) before director/co-writer Craig Johnson’s film descends into appalling negativity and terribleness for its remaining 100 or so minutes. 

In a film like this, characters are king, because otherwise, the story and their natures aren’t going to mean anything or get us invested.  Apparently, this movie doesn’t understand that, because these characters are all shallow, not credible, badly developed and not interesting.  That’s clearly the script’s fault, because there are multiple holes in their natures that make their plights unbelievable and reveal their behavior to be “movie behavior” that only has fleeting resemblance to anything real regarding mental illness or depression.  However, the actors don’t get a free ride, either, as despite the talents of Burrell, Wiig and Hader, none of them are good enough here to make their characters feel like authentic, complex and intriguing human beings and, in the latter two’s case, they never really sell us on the fact that they’re brother and sister; I just felt like I saw two old friends instead of flesh and blood family.  I will exempt Luke Wilson from acting criticism, though, because, even though the script makes him into yet another one of those pitiable, subtly mocking and overly cheerful married men who know nothing about their wife, Wilson did make me believe in him, as rote as the character he’s playing is as set up as. 

Beyond the poor characterizations, the script further fails due to how incompetently this story is handled.  The various subplots here are either muddled to the point of them meaning nothing, such as the incomprehensible, yet apparently, difficult history the siblings had with their father, or painfully clichéd and predictable.  I could go into what these tired story threads are, but if you make the mistake of seeing this movie (or you already did see it), you’ll know that I don’t have to, because the film makes it head-shakingly obvious what each new conflict is going to be and exactly how it’s going to play out starting from the establishing shot.  I’m not kidding; the way Craig Johnson directs, paces and shoots this is so on the nose and so “look at me; I’m a Sundance production and I’m so important” that it’s impossible not to know lockstep how everything will play out, which is exactly how the film proceeds each and every time. 

Even worse than all of that is just how terrible this film’s attitude is about mental illness and suicide.  Usually, critics tend to nail Hollywood movies to the wall for taking serious personal and/or societal issues and making a mockery of them, but as this film shows, just because a film is an independent production that gets that increasingly meaningless Sundance seal of approval doesn’t mean it’s not above being as cynical about heavy subject matter, if not more so, than even the worst major and nationwide releases. I can’t think of a recent film dealing with the subjects that it does and claims it has an understanding of that’s this offensive, tone-deaf, simplistic and immature about all of its topics.  The depression and suicide angle of Hader focuses heavily on his homosexuality and his bond with Burrell’s character that, for as little as the movie gives us to go on, makes him feel ostracized from society and parts of his family, but I didn’t feel it was authentic for a second (A Single Man, starring Colin Firth, captured that isolation idea far better).  Worse, the film offensively wants to have it both ways in terms of how it looks at Hader, going between leering “ew, a gay person” labeling and mockery and “oh, look how weirdly wise and funny he is for a gay suicide case” affection.  Oh, and the film also plays the “he’s not the one who’s really messed up; the seemingly normal Wiig is” card regarding Hader, which is as lazy and intellectually bankrupt a mental illness movie copout as there is. 

Regarding Wiig’s character, she, to be fair, is more screwed up, but she and her narrative through-line are even less believable than Hader’s.  Most of her stress comes from her lack of interest in having a child (which Wilson’s character, being the archetype he is, can’t understand or see, despite obvious signs that something’s wrong) and her own neuroses which, in another movie, I’d buy, but the lack of plausibility and interest in actually delving into how she is and how she interacts with those around her makes everything seem completely false and insulting.  Not to mention that her arc leads to an insanely implausible ending; without giving too much away, what happens at the end is something that would require human omniscience for it to make any logical sense and the movie refuses to explain how it could have possibly played out the way it does before it just decides to tie the whole damn thing up in a tidy bow.  Is that a good way to be treating the complicated subject matter depicted here, or is it just the expedient cherry on top of an insensitive and insulting cake that is this movie?  I say it’s the latter, easily. 

Given everything I’ve said, you may wonder how critics fell for this.  I say part of relates to the fact that this is an indie film that came out of the Sundance cinematic sausage maker and is automatically bestowed with undeserved praise because of that “Official Selection” banner in the trailers and on the poster, but the other part of it is Kristen Wiig.  She’s a strong talent for sure, but let’s face it; she’s the Meryl Streep of her acting generation, which I say is a negative thing, and the fact that this is a critically acclaimed movie vividly proves that.  Like Streep, she’s overhyped, overexposed and held up on a pedestal where everything she does is automatically amazing, but anything she does wrong cinematically is either completely ignored or pseudo-intellecutally explained away, even in plainly obvious cases where she’s done horribly and has nothing to be proud of, like in films like Macgruber, Paul, Anchorman 2 and now, The Skeleton Twins, which is, amazingly, significantly worse than any of the aforementioned messes were. 

6. Jersey Boys

Clint Eastwood’s Four Seasons biopic/kinda-sorta-not really adaptation of the Broadway show, Jersey Boys, is perhaps the most shockingly terrible film of the year.  I remember hearing about this and thinking, “the great Clint Eastwood has a new film out about Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons and Valli himself executive produced and Christopher Walken is in the cast AND it’ll probably give me a sense of that Broadway show everyone’s been telling me about?! I can’t possibly miss this!”  However, there were two warning signs here that I stupidly ignored; first, I didn’t see any trailers for this until only 2 weeks before it opened and second, the distributor pushed the release date from the potential Oscar season of November to this past June.  Now that I’ve seen the film, those two facts make sense; the studio clearly knew they had an inexplicable and unacceptable train wreck on their hands and were, correctly, trying to bury it, but they’d have been better off not releasing it or sending Eastwood back into the editing room, because not only is this movie bad, but it also does not represent a finished film that you release to the public.

As I said, the film is about the rise of The Four Seasons, following Frankie Valli (John Lloyd Young, who apparently also played him in the stage show) going from small gig to small gig with fellow Jersey Boy/musician/troublemaker Tommy DeVito (Vincent Piazza) before they both end up forming the seminal pop band (which, by the way, they decide on in a particularly headshaking and rote scene involving a newly fixed bowling alley sign), complete with Valli’s angelic falsetto voice at the forefront.  From there, the film also goes through the usual music biopic clichés about their meteoric rise, resulting highlife (you know, because every band that goes from rags to riches, not to mention every movie about them, apparently, must have hookers and blow come into the equation at some point), personal downfalls (such as the band’s infighting, apparently managed by Christopher Walken’s semi-mob boss, and some emotionally manipulative “heavy events and tragedies”) and some insights into the music making process and industry in the late 1950s and early 1960s.  To be fair, I don’t need this movie to necessarily be an innovative music figure biopic, ala I’m Not There (that was Todd Haynes’ great 2007 film that looked at Bob Dylan through six separate characters capturing different aspects of his personality and without ever dropping his name), but at least the familiar stuff here should be interesting and provide insights about the band and its members that I didn’t know prior.  Sadly, it’s not, and the film ends up being pretty much nothing but an ineffective, uninteresting and meaningless parade of the above tropes that flood every bad biopic like this that think they’re better, more interesting and more insightful than they really are.

However, this film’s actually even worse in that regard because, even with it packing every cliché in the book, this film is pretty much incoherent and nonsensical due to its astonishingly bad story construction and direction.  Most of the big events in this movie make no sense, as there are multiple important scenes developing them missing and the transitions between the ones that were filmed lack any cohesiveness or relation to anything that came before, even the scenes directly preceding the introduction of the plot conflicts.  A perfect example of this is everything involving Valli’s wife (played here by Renée Marino, reprising her role from the Broadway musical); the first scene we seem them in is during their first date, but in the next one, they’re already married.   Why did these two like each other or would have ever married in the first place?  I certainly can’t tell and, in this case, the acting isn’t enough to generate a hint as to why without more narrative support (be it through dialogue or the chemistry they exhibit).

Similarly, the film kind of drops their relationship and doesn’t ever really look at it again in the context of Valli’s rise, with the exception of the inevitable “you’ve been cheating on me” scene that, again, comes only out of the preceding scene with Valli driving around in a car with a woman which, in this case, wasn’t enough to convince me that he was actually being unfaithful. 

Outside of feeling that the plot needs this and every other big dramatic situation to happen exactly this way to keep the movie going, there’s no motivation, interest or additional importance gained by the story and characters from having these muddled details and scenes, which makes them feel like a waste of our time when they’re not inducing questions of “when did that happen?!”  They can’t even make the stuff with Valli’s daughter and her innate musical talent involving, which, in and of itself, could have made for an interesting and unique angle.  I mean, I like the music of Valli and The Four Seasons but I didn’t know about his daughter, so that could have given me something new to care about and a unique insight, but the film introduces it too late to mean anything and, aside from one scene, it’s barely touched upon, unlike, say, Begin Again, which got a lot of mileage out of a similar idea, with far better focus and development. 

Further adding to the lack of quality of the film are the wasted performances (they may be giving it their all, but they’re not enough to wade through this mess, even the great Christopher Walken), the schizophrenic tone (one minute it’s light and frothy with its forced comedy, the next, it whiplashes into dour, depressing and/or inert dramatic territory), the extremely distracting modern touches (namely, that completely out-of-place live cast dance number at the end and those Goodfellas-style direct to the camera addresses that, after seeing it used in marginal efforts like this, American Hustle and The Wolf Of Wall Street, is now totally passé) and a sin that I would have expected better from Eastwood on; the complete lack of on-location shooting.  I know it’s not a massive deal, but the characters are always talking about how “this is Jersey” and “this is what Jersey Boys are like,” but the film is obviously and distractingly not shot in New Jersey and remember, Eastwood fought Warner Brothers on Mystic River (and WB  also released this film), insisting that it needed to be shot in Boston for authenticity’s sake, so there’s no excuse for him not doing it again this time, especially since his clout as a filmmaker alone is far more significant now than it was when Mystic River came out over a decade ago.  

Honestly, I think we need an explanation on how Jersey Boys went so wrong, because it really shouldn’t have happened.  I mean, come on; Clint Eastwood has one stellar track record for directing strong and varied dramatic character studies, such as Letters From Iwo Jima, Million Dollar Baby, Gran Torino and the aforementioned Mystic River, and Eastwood has a strong musical interest, as shown recently by him making excellent scores for those last two movies, so how could this have possibly turned out to be not just the worst major musical biopic since the overrated Ray, but even worse than that film?  Assuming we never find out what happened here, though, at least this film has been rightly forgotten and shunned (especially with Eastwood’s new film, American Sniper, out now), and hopefully we can keep it that way.

7. Planes: Fire And Rescue 

Back when this glorified direct-to-video sequel to Planes released in July, I said that Disney really doesn’t give a damn anymore when it comes to the non-Pixar animated films they release in the summer.  And it’s true; they either let Pixar get them their money each summer or they use their own non-Pixar releases, which are either great, but are doomed to fail by how they’re either mismarketed or released against huge competing films (2011’s Winnie The Pooh died at the hands of Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Volume 2), or they’re just plain terrible.  Yet, if you look at Disney’s recent fall offerings like Wreck-It-Ralph, Frozen and, most recently, Big Hero 6, those are all good to great animated films for both kids and adults.  I don’t know what their problem is, but they really need to start caring about their summer animated efforts again, especially since Planes: Fire And Rescue ended up as both the worst animated film of the year (and yes, I do think it’s worse than The Nut Job) and one of the worst films of the year, period. 

I didn’t see the original Planes (and if it’s anything like this movie, I’ll be glad to keep it that way), but it centered around Dusty (voiced by Dane Cook), a crop-dusting plane who became some big racing champion.  This time, his parts are failing and threatening to end both his racing days and his life, so he needs a new control box or something to prevent that.  After recklessly setting a fire and threatening the job of his fire truck pal, Mayday (voiced by Hal Holbrook, the only good voice performance in this mess), he goes for firefighting certification but he’s clearly more interested in rumors of a replacement control box for himself than righting a wrong he did on his friend.  Anyway, you’ve probably seen a bunch of movies like this before, as it’s yet another one of those tales about the hothead with the apparent heart of gold who learns the values of patience, teamwork and bravery through his firefighting, which would be a nice message to send to the kids the film is aimed for if the film didn’t feel like it was treating that lesson the way it treats everything else; as an example of hastily covering every possible base in an ADD-like fashion because “hey, we have to be as all over the place as our young target audience is with this movie, or they’ll never like it.” Well, despite that apparent mindset, children are certainly capable of handling more traditional movies that aren’t full of empty frenzy and, at the screening I attended of this film, the kids there didn’t seem that into it to me (unlike Big Hero 6, for example, where one young boy next to me at that screening was moved to tears by the third act, which the movie did a better job of earning).  

As far as the adults are concerned, I’m more certain that they won’t like this one, either, and that’s partly due to the failed attempts at comedy.  Yeah, I know this is aimed at kids, so I can understand why there are so many car/plane puns, but they’re still relentless and aggravating.  Even worse are the attempts at adult humor, which are pathetic, forced and needlessly push what should be an innocent G rated film to a PG.  Seriously, there’s a truck based on Burt Reynolds in this movie, which leads to a reference of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas.  Wait, what?  What’s that doing in here?  And why is Thunderstruck by AC/DC on the soundtrack?  It’s a great song, but the lyrics talk about local strippers, you know (those lines, I think, are edited out, but I honestly don’t remember, and most of the song plays during the one scene it’s in).  By those standards, the reference to CHiPs is downright innocent (and it’s also the film’s highlight). 

Further compounding the weak comedy and messaging are the clichéd, uninteresting and draggy story and poorly developed and stock characters.  If we don’t care about or have a rooting interest in the narrative and their subjects, that kind of dooms the movie right there and not even the talented voice cast is able to add to either (despite names like Ed Harris, Fred Willard and John Michael Higgins present).  In some cases, the voice talent makes things worse, especially regarding the bit characters that are mostly crude and distracting ethnic stereotypes and especially Lil Dipper, the hyperactive girl plane who’s a huge fan of Dusty from his old racing days.  If this character was better developed and realized, it would be sweet that she finally gets to meet her idol and perhaps develop a relationship with him, but the film really pushes her creepy obsession in a way that made me feel uncomfortable and made me wonder if, in the world of this movie, there exists methods of mental treatment and institutionalization of planes, because she’s be a worthy candidate for both. 

OK, so the movie’s terrible but hey; it’s from Disney and it’s a spin-off of a Pixar enterprise (that would be Cars), so at least it looks pretty good, right?  Wrong.  I said in the opening, this is more of a direct-to-video effort, but the CG animation and visuals in this film insult some direct-to-video animated films I’ve seen.  The detail is lacking, the colors don’t pop like you want them to, the action is quite blurry, even in 2D (and I’m guessing the 3D wouldn’t look any better) and the expressions of the characters are unacceptably simplistic.  Seriously, Cars from 2006 looks better than this, which you’d think would not be the case for a 2014 CG animated theatrical release.  But then again, Planes: Fire And Rescue seems to violate all the other basic elements of a modern family animated film that we sometimes take for granted, so I guess, in that way, it makes sense.  Even if you’re just looking for an animated film from this year for your kids to watch, avoid this and treat them (and yourself) to How To Train Your Dragon 2, which is a real, great and, interestingly and ironically enough, more age appropriate animated film than this.  

  8. The Theory Of Everything

Oh, I’m sorry; I must have accidentally switched up the movies on my best films of the year list and put The Theory Of Everything on my worst of list.  Oh wait, I MEANT TO HAVE IT HERE.  Yeah, I really despised this biopic about astrophysicist Stephen Hawking that’s probably the most disgusting piece of Oscar bait this year that’s actually getting serious consideration and respect (the aspirant award flames of St. Vincent are, thankfully and rightly, beginning to be snuffed), because this is yet another true story narrative picture that gives us no idea of who its subject is or why they matter.  Also, like The Skeleton Twins, it’s an indie film depicting serious mental and/or physical illnesses with shocking, clichéd and repulsive wrongheadedness that has the gall to think it’s more meaningful and important than it really is and, though, other critics may accept such garbage, as someone with personal experiences with both physical and mental illness, I have no tolerance for the kind of trifling going on here regarding both. 

Eddie Redmayne stars as Hawking, who is working on his astrophysics studies at Cambridge as a young man and courting the woman who would become his first wife, Jane, played by Felicity Jones.  However, his body is starting to deteriorate internally, leading to a brutal collapse, a diagnosis of motor neuron disease and a prognosis of 2 years left to live (and if you aren’t able to tell or don’t know that he’s showing signs of debilitation in his college days, don’t worry; the movie will painfully foreshadow it in all caps, bold, italics and underlining before his fall by giving us endless close-ups of him shaking and accidentally knocking things over).  From there, Stephen’s health continues to degrade while he continues living his life with Jane, eventually marrying her and having children and earning his PhD in astrophysics (apparently because he had one brilliant section in his otherwise awful thesis that was highlighted during Stephen’s viva by his professor, Lupin… I mean, Sciama, played by David Thewlis).  The film also touches on the idea of the difficulties of Stephen and Jane’s marriage, but if you’re expecting an on-point, interesting and respectful look at that touchy subject, you won’t find it here and should instead check out Life Itself, the Roger Ebert documentary, to have similar territory explored far better. 

Speaking of documentaries, this film was directed by James Marsh, whose background includes two stellar docs in Man On Wire (the one about Philippe Petit tightrope walking across the World Trade Center in the 1970s) and Project Nim (the one about the “domesticated” chimpanzee who snapped about 6 years ago and tore a woman’s face off), so why is this a narrative feature?  OK, so this film didn’t necessarily need to be documentary about Hawking, but I get the sense that Marsh was more interested in going that route with this movie, as evidenced by reoccurring scenes that speed through some of Stephen’s big life events (his wedding and birth of his children) with blurry and grainy filtering based on pseudo VHS footage of the actors that looks like something a documentary would do with real-life footage.  Based on the empty, manipulative, clichéd and false film that we got, I’d have taken a doc, if only for a chance at this to have been good, because Hawking’s story is interesting and inspiring, but this movie is one of those “high-class/low denominator” jobs that, through its direction, writing and especially Jóhann Jóhannsson's overwrought music score, pushes too far to move us to tears, making it so I felt disgust and scorn, instead of tangible sadness for Stephen and Jane. 

What’s the most vital part of any movie based on a real-life figure?  Getting a sense of who the real-life figure is/was and why their work was of importance, often on a macro and micro scale.  We get absolutely none of that with Stephen here.  Who is he? Who is his wife?  What did their relationship mean? What went into his groundbreaking concepts on time and space (aside from seeing him always reading and doing math when he’s not struggling with his illness)? And also, who are their children?  The last line in the movie has Stephen saying to Jane “look at what we’ve made,” which had me saying “what did you make?! I don’t know anything about them at all!”  The film, even at over 2 hours, is missing many vital scenes that would give those who aren’t familiar with every minute detail of Hawking’s life an idea of all the aforementioned details, which could have helped us become more engrossed and invested in his life and the struggles of him and his family.  It also could have helped answer another big question I had; Stephen’s given 2 years to live, so how did he live past 2 years?  My mom, who knows Hawking’s story better, told me that it was because he had good doctors, which I don’t doubt, but why couldn’t the movie have told me that? Yet even that real-life detail is directly contradicted by the film, as the only dialogue about doctors comes about a decade after Stephen is diagnosed and it’s only the idea that Stephen’s father wants doctors to come in and Stephen won’t allow it.  But he’d have had to allow doctors to work on him in order to still be alive right now!    

Also, the film is actually pretty disrespectful to Stephen, when you think about it. As a young man, Stephen is painted as a creepy and introverted nerd, a personality that seems deliberately designed so we can mock his desire to be with Jane, yet, later in his life, he’s painted in the movie as a saint because of nothing but his illness, giving off the aura of the film saying “oh, look at this man struggling; feel something, audience!”  But, without getting a sense of who Stephen and his family are, his health troubles only serve to show us his behavior and not the strong person underneath, a concept that’s brought to many repulsive extremes, like that croquet game, but arrives at a particularly stomach-churning low in a scene that cross-cuts between Jane on a camping trip and Stephen nearly dying at a symphony performance (the underlying theme that connects the two scenes and the convenient and, most likely, not factual account of the real story that ties to it makes it unbelievably offensive and sick). 

To be fair, I don’t blame the actors for this, because they’re certainly trying hard to make this work.  Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones do have good chemistry together and they introduce at least some bond that could have potentially developed into something meaningful and there are some good supporting turns by David Thewlis and especially Maxine Peake who, despite showing up late in the film, is by far the movie’s highlight.  Too bad, then, that James Marsh directed them so horribly and gave them such an awful script to work with, both of which effectively sabotage the acting, make the few meaningful scenes feel like flukes that stand separately from the narrative and make me angry that the movie, as a whole, is unable and unwilling to give us a substantial amount of honesty and insight that the actors bring in for at least a few brief microseconds.  As I said before, I know some people were swayed by this and some are getting the idea that this movie is Oscar worthy, but sorry; you guys are dead wrong.

9. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 

A lot of people I know have been saying that the films based on Marvel Comics enterprises from this year have been one great exercise after another, but sorry guys, I don’t agree.  Aside from Big Hero 6 and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I felt all the other ones were misfires (and yes, that does include Guardians Of The Galaxy), with the worst offender easily being The Amazing Spider-Man 2.  This came as a shock to me for four reasons; first, because this was my introduction to the new film series based our friendly neighborhood web-slinger, second, because the earlier Spider-Man movies were usually a safe bet for an entertaining comic movie, third, because it was directed Marc Webb (who made 500 Days Of Summer, which made my 10 Best List for 2009) and fourth, because this is the film that Hollywood deemed a worthy kick-off to the summer 2014 movie season.  To the last point, all I can say is, if you wanted to set a bad omen for the rest of your season, film industry, all you needed to do was say so; you could have spared us this junk that makes the much reviled Spider-Man 3 look like a modern masterpiece. 

The Social Network’s Andrew Garfield takes over from Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker/Spider-Man in this film and is just graduating high-school with his girlfriend Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone).  Things should be all good, but because of events that happened in the first Amazing Spider-Man film, mixed with some good old fashioned bad writing, Peter and Gwen break-up and go their separate ways.  While Gwen pursues her educational dreams, Peter continues to protect New York as Spider-Man from a group of new villains including The Rhino (played a terribly utilized and wasted Paul Giamatti) and nerdy power grid designer turned electrical powerhouse Electro (Jamie Foxx), but the pressures are starting to eat at him.  Things become even more overwhelming for Peter when best friend Harry Osbourne returns from boarding school to see the death of his father, Norman (Chris Cooper), setting into motion the dichotomy of Peter and Harry’s friendship being secretly threatened by Harry’s desire for revenge on his friend’s arachnid alter-ego. 

As the plot synopsis suggests, this film is attempting a more complex and humanistic exploration of the Spider-Man universe and its inhabitants, which I certainly welcome and helps to differentiate this film and, most likely, this new film series, from the three Sam Raimi directed Spider-Man pictures.  However, as was the case with last year’s only slightly better Man Of Steel, which pursued the same goal for Superman, the noble and ambitious intentions of The Amazing Spider-Man 2 are all for naught when the film fails to deliver on most every front it’s attempting.  There are a few positives here that make us see what could have been, such as Andrew Garfield’s effective embodiment of Spidey’s lighter side (an issue with the Raimi films in the eyes of some comic fans I’ve talked to about this) and the scenes that effectively contrast his bouncy sarcasm as the web-slinger with his grounded non-superhero persona, the best of which is easily the discussion about sacrifice he has with Aunt May (she’s played quite well by Sally Field who, in this scene alone, gives the film more gravitas and meaning than it deserves). 

Sadly, the dramatic situations of most every other scene are hackneyed, predictable, poorly balanced between the film’s lighter and darker outlooks and are not particularly well-acted. I may have said Garfield captured Spidey’s emotionally free side well, but when the film asks him to be emotional and serious, especially near the end, his overacting is pretty painful to watch.  Also, I didn’t really feel the spark between him and Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy (Stone’s, at best, passable here) and all the other performances range from being too insignificant to notice, being criminally wasted (Sally Field and Paul Giamatti), being reduced to a bad performance when they’re usually impervious to bad material (Chris Cooper, who even made something more worthwhile out of last year’s awful August Osage County) or inducing Vietnam flashbacks of their career-worst roles (that would fit Jamie Foxx to a tee here, as someone on this film, who clearly has some screws loose, thought him reviving his painfully mannered and demeaning turn from The Soloist would be a good idea; spoiler alert, it wasn’t). 

Further hurting the movie are the big action set-pieces, which seem to follow the Watchmen playbook of attempting to make them deeper, more meaningful and cool by overdoing the style, slow-motion and CG animation, which, in actually, makes them boring, empty and often inappropriate to the narrative focus of the movie (the first and last showdowns between Spidey and Electro are perfect examples and even that one that leads to a significant plot development felt inert, both in their attempts at excitement and emotional resonance). On top of that, the pacing is slow and draggy, the overall direction is hacky and the film lacks the interest, audience investment and entertainment value that it wishes it could give us and that other similar films have delivered on far better.  Speaking of better and similar films, we already have three other Spider-Man movies from Sam Raimi and we have the Christopher Nolan Batman films that also are trying to mean something more and actually succeed, so I’d say stick with those and forget this one.

10. Magic In The Moonlight 

There’s been a lot of talk this year about films and negative portrayals of women, which is a fair point of discussion, but the controversy regarding some offending films have been laughably idiotic.  Neighbors was blamed for an isolated virgin’s misogynistic killing spree and Mom’s Night Out was attacked for having Christian undertones about motherhood, which, regardless of the message, is obviously a big no-no to most critics, but while those movies were strung up, other more odious films and their depiction of women got off completely scot-free.  I was particularly offended by the lack of anger over Divergent, which just missed this worst of list, and relished in showing and threatening its noble female characters with torture, murder and/or rape (and, as proven by one reader’s defense of said rape scene for no other reason than because the victim fought back, like in EVERY SINGLE MOVIE depicting rape, some people actually and ludicrously see it as a pro-woman film), and I was even more outraged by Woody Allen’s latest, Magic In The Moonlight, that, along with being a repulsive exercise in misogyny, is also an uninteresting and horrible waste of time from someone who, at this point in his career, has absolutely no excuse for churning out a mess like this. 

Colin Firth stars as a 1920s neurotic British magician who performs in yellow-face (which also didn’t cause any outrage over this movie, further proving my belief that we’re A-OK with racism towards Asians in America) and has a particular propensity and desire for revealing fraudulent performers who sound too good to be true.  That trait of his leads him to the French Rivera, where he’s heard of the recent arrival of a young and bewitching female American medium, played by Emma Stone, who claims to be able to communicate with the dead.  Naturally, Firth wants to out Stone as a fraud in front of everyone else, who are convinced she’s on the level but, as he gets to know her, he begins to think that she isn’t pulling a con and slowly, but surely, begins to fall in love with her.  But of course, things may or may not be what they seem… 

Now, does that plot in any way sound familiar? You don’t need to have seen every film in director Woody Allen’s massive filmography to know that this is the old tale of the learned, world-weary and messed-up ball of neuroses entering a bond with a mysterious and perhaps conniving ingénue multiple decades his junior that stopped being interesting and hard-hitting around the time of Allen’s personal downfall in the 90s (not to mention those probably true rape charges that, despite significant evidence, weren’t brought to trial only because they didn’t want to cause further hurt to the victim, a perverse luxury that would NEVER be afforded to a non-celebrity that allegedly did the same thing).  I will admit that Allen has made funny, entertaining and films based on this setup before, but that was a LOOOONG time ago and this script and setup wouldn’t have been any good even if it had come out at a time when it wasn’t tired and even if he had been in Colin Firth’s role (because remember, that used to be the case). The main problem here is just how regurgitated this setup really is, despite the different narrative trappings surrounding it, and how Allen apparently has no interesting in doing anything unique or fresh here, making it come off as endless, empty and meaningless.  As far as I can tell, this is nothing more than a style exercise for him, where he gets to pass off a warmed over and old-hat script that gives him an excuse to flaunt his well-documented loves/fetishes of the European coasts, olde-tyme music and those old Chinese theater and parlor tricks, but without letting us enjoy any of it with him, unlike, say, Midnight In Paris, which offered breezy, stylish fun and something unique out of him. 

Also, despite this top-flight cast, the only one who comes out of this with even a scintilla of interest is Eileen Atkins, who plays the aunt of Emma Stone’s character.  Everyone else is surprisingly pedestrian and flat, including a barely noticeable Marcia Gay Harden and even lead Colin Firth, who I think is partly to blame for his bad performance here, seeing how, except for one good scene he has in a hospital waiting room where he brings more intrigue, innovation and intelligence to his character than it or the film deserve, he’s mostly repeating his Love Actually/Bridget Jones pseudo-intellectual cad shtick and man, is it beat.  And then there’s Emma Stone; though she’s decent here and has done and been in worse this year (The Amazing Spider-Man 2), this is easily the most degrading role of her entire career.  Not only is she depicted as nothing but a walking ball of forbidden sexuality and constant scheming, but the way that Woody Allen shoots and dresses her made me feel dirtier and more uncomfortable than during any other movie I saw all year (and this is coming from someone who saw Lars Von Trier’s beyond NC-17 Nymphomaniac films).  

I guess you could say that comes from Allen’s own twisted and, allegedly, criminal sexual proclivities (I’m talking the earlier discussed rape allegations there), but the narrative doesn’t justify it or even introduce interesting gender politics commentary which, if the film was better made, it could have.  And the people who stared at Neighbors and Mom’s Night Out and screamed "how can we portraying women in movies this way?" let Allen and this movie go why, again?!  I guess because of “feminism™” which is different from feminism.  Listen, I know Woody Allen is a film legend and there is something to be said that he’s still plugging away with a new film every year, but this, along with last year’s grossly overrated Blue Jasmine (which Cate Blanchett did not deserve to win the Oscar for), make a good argument for him to take a break, perhaps permanently. In the meantime, you should go back into Allen’s classic film canon and pick out a good film of his; don’t waste your time with this cynical and awful junk. 

And now, the rest of the worst; it's the 11-20, in no particular order:

Bad Words 

Arrested Development's Jason Bateman makes his directorial debut in this repetitive, pointless, unfunny and downright cruel dark comedy about a 40 year old man (Bateman) using multiple loopholes and a two-bit internet journalist (Kathryn Hahn) to enter a prestigious children's spelling bee, who then "befriends" one of his young competitors to get a leg up.  If this sounds familiar, you’ve probably seen Terry Zwigoff's bizarrely brilliant Bad Santa, which shares a similar concept, but that film gave us a tangible rooting interest and real understanding of Billy Bob Thornton’s Willie and why he’s the way he is, and it gave us both a believable bond between him and the young boy and some great and uncomfortably dark comedy.  Bad Words lacks all of that and is insultingly simplistic, never funny, the lead is just a miserable and inauthentic man and the empty and galling mean-spirited nature of the lead is all the film has to offer.  The film really feels like it was cynically designed in a Hollywood pitch meeting as a Bad Santa wannabe and Bateman shows absolutely nothing to hint that he can bring anything interesting to the table as a director, either visually or narratively.  I guess it’s better than the similar St. Vincent and at least it’s been rightly forgotten by now, but that’s very little consolation.

The Nut Job 

Have you ever wanted to see a dull hybrid of Over The Hedge and Woody Allen's Small Time Crooks that doesn't pay attention to any of its own logic and dialogue and ends for no reason with a CG-ified Psy performing Gangnam Style alongside an animated raccoon voiced by Liam Neeson?  Probably not, and even I’m not sick enough to think up an idea for a movie like that.  This has basically been the go-to animated film of 2014 to represent the genre’s worst and for good reason; it’s a frantic, empty and uninteresting fable about some forest animals trying to get food for the winter.  The worst thing about it is that it has no interest in maintaining even the slightest bit of continuity for anything going on, to the point where the film often contradicts itself and its characters’ motivations and behaviors in the middle of the sentences they speak (no joke).  I was constantly saying "what is this movie's problem? Commit to SOMETHING, for God's Sake!" while watching this, and you will too if you waste your time on this forgettable mess, which I obviously suggest you don’t. But, to be fair, Planes: Fire And Rescue was worse to me, because Disney really should know better, while at least this film comes from a two-bit low-budget Canadian animation house where its badness at least makes more sense.

  The Judge 

This was the first piece of Oscar bait that we got out of fall 2014 and I say that the only reason it got that kind of crazy talk is because Robert Downey Jr. and Robert DuVall were involved.  Thankfully, as soon as The Judge opened, not even the strength of the principal actors (and supporting players Vincent D'Onofrio and Emma Tremblay) was enough to fool anyone into thinking this bloated, contrived, endless, painfully symbolic and fraudulent drama was anything approaching good.  This is Wedding Crashers director David Dobkin’s first stab at making a drama and, based on this film, he should go back to making comedies, especially considering that he has no control of tone here and plays some of the subplots out in aggravating at best and grotesquely out of place at worst fashion (incest as comedy, and in THIS movie, of all places?) or destroys the potentially effective and realistic dramatic scenes with stupid comedy (the one where Downey helps DuVall use the bathroom is so on-point and effectively painful before it’s betrayed by the film going in the direction of it all being a joke). Also, even though most of the acting is good (except Vera Farmiga and Billy Bob Thornton, who are totally wasted), their strong efforts don’t mean much when the film they’re a part of is so ridiculous and stupid.  

Mr. Peabody And Sherman 

A bad movie based on a beloved childhood series is not a surprise anymore, especially since filmmakers often think they need to add more to the original formula to justify a 2 hour or so film.  Yet, with Mr. Peabody And Sherman, not only does it add elements that feel nothing like the source material, but, unlike Maleficent, a better 2014 revision on a classic, I don’t even think they tried to justify the changes here.  The voice cast is on-point, namely Ty Burrell and Max Charles as the titular dog and boy and there are some funny moments and an opening that captures the enterprise’s spirit quite well, but adding in lazy elements about untraditional parenting via Mr. Peabody, foster care and a love interest for Sherman was not a good idea and, again, there was no care to make those sacrilegious changes into something a fan like me could accept.  You want a good film based on a Jay Ward cartoon?  Skip this and see George Of The Jungle or even the reviled The Adventures Of Rocky & Bullwinkle, which, yes, I did like.

Neighbors 

OK, I will defend this movie for a few funny scenes and for not being responsible for the Isla Vista shooting like many “feminists™” claimed it was, but this was a big disappointment to me, as director Nicholas Stoller squandered a great opportunity to take a familiar next-door neighbor rivalry plot to the same wonderful comedic and human nature heights as his great Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  Zac Efron and Seth Rogan turn in lazy and tired performances, the film drags constantly, the more serious topics are ripped right off from Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Superbad and Adventureland, which all did them better and were all better movies, and the focus on slapstick comedy accentuating the swollen breast pain and cracking bones of those involved in them was a terrible miscalculation that sucks any comedy out of those scenes.  Too bad.

  One Chance 

This biopic about opera singer Paul Potts sat on the shelf for almost a year before it finally got released in 2014 and sadly, there was a reason for that.  This is one hacky and teeth-gnashingly clichéd film that starts out well with the bond between Paul (well played by James Corden) and his wife Julz (also well-played by Alexandra Roach, who shares natural chemistry with Corden).  But then, it falls apart and it’s really a shame, because the story is interesting, but the film just recycles the usual music biopic tropes and cross-fertilizes them with British feel-good film ideas regarding social and economic struggles, but not in the way where they end up meaning anything, as was the case with something great, like The Full Monty.  Also, this is another film with missing scenes and abrupt developments that result in us not believing in the story and characters that we once were invested in.  Writer Justin Hackem, know that you need to stop living up to the first four letters of your last name (especially after writing this and The Bucket List) and director David Frankel, know that you’re only a good director when you have good material (proven by Marley & Me, with its excellent script by Scott Frank and Don Roos).

Transformers: Age Of Extinction 

This is the best Transformers film we’ve gotten so far, but remember, I’m the guy who had previously said Revenge Of The Fallen was the highlight of Michael Bay’s sorry movie series based on the Hasbro robots in disguise.  I will say that Mark Wahlberg is a nice upgrade from Shia Leboeuf, the special effects are better and the film is not nearly as toxic and venomous as Dark Of The Moon was, or for that matter, Bay’s last film, the execrable Pain & Gain was.  But seriously; how can anyone consider this worthwhile cinematic mass-market entertainment in a year with great films like How To Train Your Dragon 2, Godzilla and Mockingjay Volume 1?  Those movies are exciting, entertaining and full of imagination and care, while this is just lazy, convoluted and, for no (insert profanity of your choice here) reason, longer than Boyhood.  That, and it still has enough of the repulsiveness that Bay too often traffics in, such as relishing on Wahlberg’s daughter crying and begging not to be shot in the head.  How classy and lovely. 

Divergent 

As I said with Magic In The Moonlight, this just missed the 10 worst list because that one was a slightly more disgusting and hypocritical look at women than this one.  Putting that aside, though, this adaptation of the Veronica Roth novel is a pretty terrible start to a film series that has me dreading the future movies; it’s portentous, stupid, all over the place with its characterizations and character motivations, too long, not directed well and lacks even the loopy camp value that the far better Twilight films had (yes, I mean it when I say that all the films in that much-hated book series are better than this).  Also, as I said, this film hates women and, despite what some dedicated readers have argued to me (and I do appreciate you guys sparring with me on this and any other film), this is not a positive film for women on anything, especially when we have The Hunger Games films out there, which do that, and everything else better.

  The Boxtrolls 

OK, I didn’t exactly hate this third film from claymation animation house Laika when I first saw it, but the more time that passes between me and this movie, the more strongly I resent it.  Seriously, this adaptation of the children’s book Here Be Monsters is all style and no substance and, though most critics seem not to think so, given that many liked this picture, narrative substance does matter when it comes to making a good animated film because without it, who cares how good it looks?  There are some nice and cute moments, but again, so what?  They feel like they’re freestanding from a film that I don’t even think the filmmakers could cogently explain, in regards to what it’s about, what it hopes to accomplish or what it wants to make its audience feel.  Remember all those trailers that played for this film a year before its release that focused only on its looks?  Well, it’s now clear that was because they had nothing else to offer beyond that.

Nymphomaniac Volume 2 

I actually never reviewed either of the two parts of Lars Von Trier’s ever so adults only latest opus, because, like the film itself, the review ended up being a massive civics/human sexuality/theology/gender studies/advanced literature thesis/analysis that was hard to pair down.  Volume 1 of this film is twisted, easily predictable and artsy, didactic and overcompensating with a capital A, D, and O, but it’s self-aware, well-acted and sets an interesting groundwork, and it has a classic scene with Uma Thurman getting revenge on her ex-husband by using their children in an intentionally psychologically scarring way that’s fascinating and perversely effective as human drama, human tragedy, pitch-black humor, and cut-to-the-bone commentary on the ugliness of the human mind and response regarding infidelity.  Volume 2, on the other hand, destroys the promise from the first half and is just an insanely predictable, dull and ugly exercise, the latter of which is merely uninteresting, boundary-pushing only to get a rise out of us, and completely arbitrary (especially that ridiculous final scene and that insane speech on this woman’s story being a worthy feministic pursuit, which none of the events in the past 4 hours comprising both parts are based in).  Also, for a film that’s trying so hard to coldly look at its lead’s sexual addiction without judgment (that’s probably self-commentary coming from Von Trier on misogyny charges tossed at him, as are some other “art imitating life” lines about anti-Semitism and racial slurs), Volume 2 is basically nothing but judgment and punishment and, when it pulls away from that, the lead character does things on her own to make me lose respect for her (namely, how she balances her secret sex life with her motherhood, how she handles a young girl she stalks and befriends and how she figures out how to extort a man and later admires his forbidden, pedophilic desires).  Maybe the original 5 ½ hour director’s cut better justifies and explains some of the stuff that ruins Volume 2 as I saw it, but it’ll probably never come out in the US, and, already knowing how it ends, I don’t know if I’d be interested enough to watch the longer version to see if it redeems Volume 2 or, for that matter, the whole film.

Worst Of The Summer

  1.  Tammy 

I wrestled between picking this or the next movie down as my worst major release of this summer, as they’re both endless, repulsive, mean and not for one second funny comedies that represent disgusting vanity on the part of its makers, but Tammy gets the edge here because this atrocity is a much bigger waste of talent and potential.  Melissa McCarthy has been something of a comedic discovery recently, especially on the back of her complete and standout performance in Bridesmaids (though, to me, that praise doesn’t extend to the movie as a whole) and, despite my not recommending any movie she’s been in except The Life Of David Gale (yeah, I don’t remember where she was in that, either), the energy and depth she’s brought to her characters has made most everything she’s been in better.  So I was looking forward to Tammy to see where she’d go next, especially creatively, given that she also co-wrote the screenplay with her husband, who also directed.  That, and there’s also been talk about Hollywood being sexist towards and not having any clue of how to properly utilize Melissa McCarthy but, based on this, those sentiments seem more to describe McCarthy and her soul mate than the “big evil, Hollywood machine.” 

McCarthy plays Tammy, who goes on a road trip with her grandmother (Susan Sarandon) after she loses her job at a burger joint and after her husband apparently cheats on her (though I’m not completely convinced that’s what’s happening and the film doesn’t care to make it any clearer).Along the way, she has all sorts of “life-affirming” and “life-changing” events with her grandmother, such as committing a robbery, attending a party/Valkyrian ritual with her lesbian aunt (played by Kathy Bates) and meeting a guy with whom she apparently forms a connection with based on pretty much nothing but her love of Cheetos.  Oh, and by the way, did I mention this character is fat and that’s a constant thread and source of most of the jokes in here?  

Yeah, we’ve seen pretty much everything this movie trots out done before and done far better before and it’s hard to describe just how uncomfortable it was for me to sit through this film (and apparently, it wasn’t just me, as I saw two young women who came in late and, smartly, walked out after 10 minutes).  The level of rank condescension and degradation going on here was really depressing and it’s even more so given that the movie is basically nothing more than Tammy’s outrageous and, I would argue, institution-friendly behavior that has no energy or attitude behind it.  Apparently, Falcone and McCarthy think that this unpleasantness alone is going to make us laugh and care about this character and the things that happen to her, but the film is unable to generate even an iota of effective humor and/or pathos and it clearly lacks the focus or care to make it work on either or both of those levels. 

Also, the story, as I said, is tired, there are plot points that are brought up, dropped and then brought up at the end to try and get an emotional reaction out of us (spoiler; the attempts for us to feel don’t work), the pacing is horrible, even at 90 minutes, the film drags on forever and has the nerve to frequently try and fake us out into thinking the pain is over and the amount of talented actors who are being completely wasted and humiliated here is appalling, especially greats like Susan Sarandon, Toni Collette, Allison Janney, Kathy Bates, and Sandra Oh who are all given little or nothing to do and deserved a lot better.  Honestly, the best thing in the movie are the scenes where McCarthy does a pretty good job covering The Outfield's Your Love and The Allman Brothers' Band's Midnight Rider, but who cares?  Not only do I now get Vietnam-like flashbacks to this piece of trash whenever I hear those songs (especially the former), but that’s also not a movie you spend 8 bucks to go see; it’s what I do on my Youtube channel and I don’t ask you to give me your hard-earned money to see it.   

  A Million Ways To Die In The West

There’s a joke in the trailer of this movie (which I won’t give away and, if you really want to see this, I’d suggest not knowing about it going in) that I was kind of delighted to see, but after I saw it, I wondered to myself if the movie was showing its hand too early.  Well, now that I’ve seen A Million Ways To Die In The West, the answer to that question is a resounding yes.  Not only did the trailer give that entire scene away with no new angles of it to look forward to in the finished product, but also, had I not known about it going in, I might have gotten at least one laugh out of what’s otherwise a gallingly and reprehensibly smug, self-satisfied, offensive and unfunny disaster from Family Guy, American Dad and The Cleveland Show creator Seth MacFarlane.

MacFarlane’s background is mostly in animated TV shows, but after his directorial debut Ted became a critical and commercial hit (I thought it was overrated, but, unlike this, it wasn’t bad or entirely without merit), he was seen as perhaps an interesting new force in American cinematic comedy.  As such, that probably gave him free reign to go all out with this western comedy about a guy (played by MacFarlane himself) who lives in the Old West and is absolutely obsessed with listing off everything that can horribly kill people there.  See, this is supposed to be the big joke, in that MacFarlane’s character’s outlook on life and society is from the perspective of the current day, while the film is set in the 19th century and hey; MacFarlane’s character, who’s made out to be borderline messianic in how great he is, is the one who really knows what’s going on and can make the west better.  Well, along with being almost disgustingly vain about that, the movie refuses to level with us in regards to what that incongruity means in the context of the story and the attempted humor related to that setup is obvious, annoying and often hypocritical.

Hypocritical?  Well, consider this example; through this character, MacFarlane is basically doing his Brian from Family Guy liberal New Englander shtick, and part of his argument of how dangerous the west is comes from frequent talks about how horrible racism is/was in the 19th century.  Fair enough and certainly, in a film like this, pushing the envelope on that front and going into absurdist directions with it could result in some funny and pointed insights (see also; Blazing Saddles, this film’s clear inspiration). However, the racial stuff in this film is nothing but mean-spirited, perspective-free and unmotivated cheap shots at every culture and ethnicity you can imagine, yet MacFarlane has the gall to try and convince us he’s being hard-hitting and edgy with it.  The whole movie is like that; it tries to be edgy and offensive in its comedy, and its hypocrisy only adds to how disgusting the rest of the movie is, including the gross-out humor and the shockingly gruesome violence that seems inserted only for the purpose of providing a jolt to the audience and to save the comedically dead scenes that they’re a part of.

Also disgusting is how MacFarlane, in this movie, resorts to the same kind of self-indulgence and lack of comedic restraint that his TV shows are notorious for.  Even if you like shows like Family Guy (which I do, though it was mostly back when no one was watching it; yeah, there was a time when that show wasn’t popular), it’s hard to deny that when MacFarlane has a joke that he pushes way past the point where it’s funny and the lack of humor and scene never seem to stop, you want to scream at the TV and tell him to cut it out.  And yet, he keeps doing that, and here, it’s particularly torturous and reprehensible, especially with nothing else to laugh at.  Maybe if I got a smile out of some of these things, I’d put up with it, but I didn’t, even from the flat absurdist moments, including the peyote fueled dream with the singing and urinating sheep that’s kind of a rip-off of, of all things, The Rugrats Movie (though, in that film, it was far funnier seeing babies voiced by Iggy Pop and The B-52s doing the same thing and the original song accompanying it was better).

Further hurting the experience is the endless running time of almost 2 hours, the clichéd and almost sickeningly predictable story, the horrible performance of MacFarlane in the lead role and the completely wasted and, in other circumstances, extremely talented supporting cast.  Liam Neeson as the villain is, shockingly, only in here for about 9 minutes, which is far less screen time than he got in The Lego Movie, where he was also way funnier, Charlize Theron’s passable as the love interest, but could have played by anybody, Sarah Silverman’s one-note as a prostitute who wants to abstain from sex with her boyfriend until marriage (yeah, that’s clever) and Neil Patrick Harris overacts so horribly as the romantic rival here and gets fewer laughs (that is to say none) than he did in The Smurfs.  Seriously, it’s a film like this that almost makes last year’s even more reviled and even bigger box office bomb, The Lone Ranger, look like a masterpiece, and if that’s not the ultimate insult I can give to this movie, I don’t know what is. 

  Planes: Fire And Rescue 

Remember the days when the summer release of a non-Pixar Disney animated release actually meant something?  I do, but it would seem that with the lack of massive success of the Disney summer animation highlights of the past 15 years, namely, Lilo & Stitch, Atlantis: The Lost Empire and Winnie The Pooh (the latter of which I’ll never forgive Disney for actively killing by opening it against Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Volume 2), the studio’s usually let Pixar make them their summer animation money and affection, though how much of the latter they actually got, let alone deserved, after Brave and Monsters University is up for debate.  But even those two Pixar letdowns kicked the crud out of Planes: Fire & Rescue, the sequel to last year’s Cars spin-off (unseen by me) that’s so bad that I’ll bet it’ll make even the legions of Cars haters look back on those two films with nostalgia and love. 

This one follows the story of Dusty (voiced by Dane Cook) who apparently, in the first movie, became some kind of plane racing sensation and now, is threatened with being permanently grounded due to faulty parts.  After causing a fire like an idiot and threatening the job of his fire truck pal, Mayday (voiced by Hal Holbrook, the only voice actor who escapes this mess well), he decides to become certified as a firefighting plane to make things right, though through it all, you kind of get the sense that he’s more in it for his own gain (or at least I felt that way). Anyway, you probably know the story from here; the hothead with the apparent heart of gold learns to be a bit more patient, understand how important firefighting and helping people is and so on and so forth and, I guess because this is a series intended for little kids, we have to have all this stuff, well, flying at us like an ADD case without a hint of narrative or tonal flow to get us to find any of it even the least bit interesting, entertaining, or funny.  

Part of that lack of interest comes from just how obvious, lazy, and unendearing the “life-affirming” messages and the exploration of firefighting philosophy are here, which also extends to the comedy (or lack thereof), with its endlessly aggravating car/plane puns and its pathetic, ineffective and kind of shocking attempts at adult humor.  The other part of that is due to how stock and poorly developed the characters are, making it hard to care about them or their exploits, despite the talents that are providing their voices (including Ed Harris, Fred Willard and John Michael Higgins, among others).  Of the characters that we do remember, we’ll find ourselves wanting to forget them, given how distracting and disgusting they are with their insanely over the top ethnic stereotyping or, in the case of Lil Dipper, a massive fan of Dusty’s racing skills, creepy obsessiveness that’s begging for a restraining order at best and, at worst, institutionalization. 

Also, the animation is anemic and unacceptable for a modern CG theatrically released animated film (though I doubt it would have cut it years earlier, as most films of this type from 8 years ago looked better, including the original Cars), the film drags terribly, despite being under 80 minutes long and the whole “kitchen sink” mentality of the movie’s characters and story signal that this is a film that has no attitude or perspective on what it wants to be, what it wants to say, what it wants to accomplish or even who it's aimed for.  Some may say that it’s good for little kids, for whom there weren’t many films available for this summer, but will they really like it?  I have my doubts, given that the audience I attended this with included mostly young children, and they seemed pretty sedate during it and I’m pretty sure that film’s use of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck on the soundtrack, the take-off on the TV show CHiPs (which, admittingly, is the best part of the film) and the kind of jaw-dropping reference to The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas (yes, that’s actually something in this movie) aren’t going to be enough for their parents.  That, and there was a far better and, surprisingly, more age appropriate CG animated film released this summer that I know both kids and adults would like and remember more than this junk (hint; look in my list of the summer’s best films to find out the movie I’m talking about).

  The Amazing Spider-Man 2 

This second film in 500 Days Of Summer director Marc Webb’s new series about the Marvel Comics webslinger was the first film out of the gate this summer and man, talk about starting your summer movie season out on the wrong foot, Hollywood (and talk about repelling me from its predecessor that I didn’t see).  Like last summer’s Man Of Steel, this movie attempts to take Peter Parker, his iconic alter-ego of Spider-Man and the people around him into different and more humanistic dramatic territory than some of the past films have, but it only briefly works on any level and actually, it’s even worse than the aforementioned Zack Snyder film was.  Hell, even Spider-Man 3 (which I re-watched after this) was way better and I am NOT joking. 

In this series, Andrew Garfield (from The Social Network) is Peter Parker/Spider-Man and in this film, both he and his girlfriend Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) have just graduated high school along and their relationship hits a rough patch for reasons that probably are related to the first film that I didn’t see, but come off as the unrealistic sitcom drivel.  Speaking of unrealistic sitcom drivel, Peter and Gwen break up and Peter as Spidey gains the attention of a dweebish power grid designer who, for just as unrealistic and sitcom-friendly reasons, ends up hating Spidey and seeking revenge as the electric villain Electro (Jamie Foxx)  Meanwhile, Harry Osbourne returns from boarding school, faces the death of his father, Norman (Chris Cooper) and reconnects with Peter, which seems to be helping Harry’s psyche but not exactly Peter’s, given everything he’s going through as Spidey and himself. 

So, as you can tell, this film is trying to take a humanistic approach to the Spider-Man mythos and characters to stand out from the Sam Raimi Spider-Man movies, but despite the good and ambitious intentions, this film mostly falls flat on its face in its attempts.  To be fair, there are some minuscule positives here, such as the way that Andrew Garfield as Spidey effectively captures the lighter side of Spidey in comparison to the more grounded perspective of his alter-ego and, in what’s the best scene in the film by a mile, a speech that Peter gets about sacrifice and what it means from his Aunt May (Sally Field).  Every other scene completely fails given how hackneyed and predictable the dramatic situations are, how poorly the film, in general, balances its lighter and darker tones, and how uneven the performances are.  Garfield, despite the credit I just gave him, still falls short as Peter/Spidey given how painfully bad he is when he has to be serious and emotional, Sally Field’s painfully wasted, expect for the aforementioned good scene, Emma Stone is Gwen Stacy is passable at best, Paul Giamatti is wasted, Chris Cooper is probably giving a career worst as Norman Osborne and, as far as Jamie Foxx as Electro is concerned?  Well, apparently someone thought it would be a good idea for him to channel his painfully mannered and demeaning turn from The Soloist, and not only was that a horrible idea, but the people who thought it would work or make him come off looking even close to acceptable, let alone good, clearly need psychological help. 

Also, the attempts at this movie meaning more are further undone by Watchmen-level “narratively inappropriate action scenes, full of overly flashy, but completely empty CG animation and slow-motion usage that makes them not the least bit exciting, the film’s pacing is slow, making it feel like it’s going on forever, the direction is hacky and the film just isn’t interesting, entertaining, or emotionally resonant.  I guess because this film made a good amount of money (but thankfully, not as much as I think Sony hoped it would), we’re going to be getting a sequel in a few years, and maybe that one will remove the bad taste this one left in my mouth.  Until then, though, if you need a cinematic Spider-Man fix, see the Sam Raimi movies; they may all be imperfect (including Spider-Man 2, which, by today’s standards, isn’t the transcendent and classic comic book film we said it was a decade ago), but they’re all superior to this mess.

  Jersey Boys 

OK, if I were to tell you that the great Clint Eastwood had directed a new film that was a biopic of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, that Valli himself executive produced it, that Christopher Walken was part of the cast (though it’s a smaller role) and that it was loosely (and based on what I hear, extremely loosely, as in hardly at all) based on the popular Broadway jukebox musical, you’d probably be really interested, right?  I sure was, and I went to see it pretty excitedly, with the thought that it would end up as one of the worst movies of the summer (and probably, the year) being the last thing on my mind.  Maybe it should have been my first thought because, shockingly, inexplicably and unacceptably, Jersey Boys turned out to be a complete and utter disaster that, as far as I’m concerned, is not in a releasable condition. 

John Lloyd Young reprises his role from the Broadway musical (so I’ve heard) as Frankie Valli, the good ol’ Jersey boy with the angelic falsetto voice who bounces from gig to gig along with fellow Jersey Boy/musician/troublemaker Tommy DeVito (Vincent Piazza) before they both end up forming the pop band The Four Seasons.  There’s not a whole lot more to say about the plot because, even if you don’t know the exact story behind Valli and The Four Seasons’ rise, this film plays it out with all the clichés you’d expect, such as the in-fighting that nearly tears the band apart, the high life as music superstars, the hookers and drugs that come with said stardom, a smattering of shallow insight into the music making process and industry at the time and emotionally manipulative “heavy events and tragedies,” none of which are even the least bit effective. Yet, despite being clichéd as all hell, the film is still completely incoherent and nonsensical, given the astonishingly bad story construction and direction.  There are so many important scenes in this movie that are missing and the transitions between the ones that are present have absolutely no cohesiveness or relation to anything that came before, even in the scene that directly preceded it.  Take the stuff with Valli’s wife where we see their first meeting and then, in the next scene, they’re married, without any sense of why they liked each other or would have ever married in the first place.  Worse, after that, we barely get any sense of their relationship or what it means to the film or those characters… that is, until the inevitable “you’ve been cheating on me” scene that, again, comes out of nowhere, unless you count the preceding scene with Valli driving around in a car with a woman (and how this movie depicts it, I don’t).  There’s no motivation, interest or additional importance gained by the story and characters from these muddled details and scenes, so why are they there?  And even if they aren’t needed, why do I keep asking myself “when did that happen?” after almost every scene transition?  As such, we end up not caring about anyone in this movie or anything that happens in it and, if you’re a fan of Valli or The Four Seasons, this movie will tell you nothing new or interesting about them and won’t even be able to make the familiar musical biopic tropes remotely interesting.  On top of that, the film is endless and draggy, the actors are wasted (poor Christopher Walken), this “Jersey” film is NOT SHOT IN NEW JERSEY (it’s shot in Toronto, which is particularly unforgivable, seeing how Eastwood previously fought distributor Warner Bros. to get on-location Boston shooting for Mystic River) and the tone is schizophrenic, with its shifts between forced comedy, inert at best and sour at worst dramatic developments, bubbly musical number and some really distracting and out of place modern touches.  I’m particularly talking about that WTF-inducing cast dance number over the end credits (which might have made more sense if this was a straight adaptation of the musical, but doesn’t for this) and the gimmicky direct-to-the-camera addresses by the characters that scream Goodfellas and, after seeing the same technique fail here and previously and recently fail in the grossly overrated American Hustle and The Wolf Of Wall Street, have now become completely played out. 

Seriously, this is the kind of hackwork that we expect from a 20-something filmmaking newbie just out of film school (and that’s an insult to film school students, considering some of the great films I’ve seen first timers with such backgrounds debut with), not a legendary and Oscar winning director like Clint Eastwood.  I mean, this is the man who has a storied, varied and strong track record as a director, with stellar films like Letters From Iwo Jima, Unforgiven, Million Dollar Baby, Blood Work, Gran Torino and Mystic River, and I know Eastwood has an interest in music (he even scored those last two films), so what happened here?  Hopefully, we’ll find out because Jersey Boys is the kind of outrageously bad film by a major talent that needs a good explanation for how it could have possibly ended up as the worst major musical biopic since Ray (yeah, I said it, but even that overrated misfire was Amadeus compared to this). 

Most Overrated Of The Summer  

1. The Fault In Our Stars

Honestly, I could have picked any of the next couple of films as the most overrated of the summer, but the more I think about it, The Fault In Our Stars really bugged me more than the other ones.  This is an adaptation of the popular and beloved novel from John Green and, based on the fandom of the movie, the prevailing wisdom is that this film is a perfect adaptation of the book.  I haven’t read the book, but I don’t doubt those claims, yet on the other hand, I don’t think that an accurate translation of one medium’s work to the cinematic world is the only factor in determining if the film works.  Such is the case with this movie which, despite some strong strengths that almost made me go for it, fails due to how the movie keeps shooting itself in the foot with its shamelessness, hypocrisy and familiar elements that may have been in the book and may have worked there, but really should have been rethought for the movie.

Shailene Woodley (from The Descendants) stars as a teenage girl with terminal cancer who keeps insisting to us that she doesn’t want to be the pitied cancer child and that this story isn’t some fairy tale with a Peter Gabriel song on the soundtrack (though, given how this movie operates, I suspect that the only reason we don’t have a song of his present here for such a use is because the filmmakers couldn’t afford to license one with their $12 million budget).  Her mother (badly overplayed and one-note by the usually reliable Laura Dern) insists she needs to join a cancer support group at their local church, which she does, and where she meets a boy who she forms a connection with, played by Ansel Elgort.

If you’ve read the book, you know what happens from here and, if you haven’t, you’ll probably have something of an idea of where it will go and, at times, I was invested.  Woodley and Elgort help on that front, as they have good chemistry together and their rapport is convincing, leading to some effective scenes, like the one where they stay up unknowingly until 1 A.M talking on the phone with each other and are surprised when they realize how late it is, a late trip to a fancy restaurant and even probably the most pivotal emotional development of the movie, which is revealed to us in a way that’s uniquely and refreshingly matter of fact, making it leave more of an impact.  So, I respect that this movie, overall, isn’t some piece of sickening “based-on-a-novel child dying of cancer” emotional pornography like, say, My Sister’s Keeper from about 5 years ago was, but then why does it keep regressing into exactly that kind of tripe?  You may say that it comes with this narrative territory, but I’ve seen many films about cancer that arrive at similar emotional endpoints more honestly and authentically (like the similar A Walk To Remember), and, in the case of this one, it’s even more unforgivable, unacceptable and indefensible when you take into account its clear proclamations that it won’t be an exercise in shamelessness and that “this is what living with cancer is like.”  I can’t accept that and I certainly hate the way the movie seems to take good moments like the ones I praised above and follow them up with scenes that make the film feel disjointed and completely destroy the believability of what we just saw and, by extension, the movie itself. 

Most of these problem scenes go back to my belief that we can’t and shouldn’t judge books and movies in the same way, and how just because something works in a book doesn’t mean it’ll also work in a movie (and vice versa).  Specifically, I’m talking about that scene in the Anne Frank museum that, with its swelling emotional music, painfully obvious symbolism and regurgitation of the slow-clap that we’ve seen in a million films before, comes off in the film as so unseemly and shameless that I literally, audibly and only out of pure instinct said “oh, for Christ’s sake” out loud at the packed theater I saw it at.  That one really did it for me, but I was also pushed by those cringe-inducing attempts at humor with the blind kid destroying the trophy and egging the car of a girl who wronged him, the stuff with Willam Dafoe as a literary idol who throws out some completely unmotivated and arbitrary cruelty toward young cancer patients and a particularly horrible health regression by Woodley’s character that’s revolting in its arty use of blur filters and slow-motion to emphasize that “bad stuff is happening and we should care now.”

Like with all of these overrated films, though, I know I’m kind of alone on not liking this one and it’s not so horrible that I’ll be angry at people for going for it.  But I have to honest, and I’m sorry, I just can’t defend this one, especially with other movies out there that far better achieve the similar goals of this and do so with far more emotional and intellectual honesty, one of which I think I’ll be talking about amongst my 5 best of the summer… 

X-Men: Days Of Future Past 

When it comes to comic fans/geek culture and their reaction to directors bringing their beloved enterprises to the big screen, there are really only three categories; the ones they despise because of one movie and will never give a chance to again (M. Night Shyamalan), the ones whose history they don’t know and, shockingly, don’t care about, but whose film will be anticipated based on how much they love the enterprise (James Gunn) and the ones that they love because of one movie and will give a pass to every time, even when they don’t deserve it.  Bryan Singer falls into that last category and, with X-Men: Days Of Future Past, he’s made a film that will satisfy the fans, but that’s about it and, considering that his better X-Men films didn’t induce that feeling for me, that’s just not good enough. The setup certainly is interesting; the world is in crisis with the rise of the Sentinels and it’s up to Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) to go back in time to the 1970s in order to convince the younger versions of Professor Xavier (James McAvoy) and Magneto (the always dependable Michael Fassbender) to team up to stop an assassination that will ultimately result in the creation of and present siege of the Sentinels. Also, the film is quite well made in terms of its special effects and its well-staged action scenes and, as is always the case with the X-Men films, the massive star-studded cast is having a lot of fun here and the film’s attempts to mix the personal struggles of the mutants with real-world issues is effective and elevates the film about a brainless action exercise. 

Having said all that, there’s something about this movie that really left me feeling cold and empty and it failed to resonate with me, despite its positives.  I think part of that is because, despite the efforts of the talent here, I didn’t really get involved in their plights as it related to the “back in time to save the world” story.  With Singer’s other X-Men films, I felt for the characters more but here, I mostly was just admiring the impressive performances, specifically Hugh Jackman and especially Michael Fassbender, while not really attaching to the characters they were playing or their characters’ motivations for what they were doing.  Also, the balance between the multitude of characters seems off, especially compared to something like X-Men 2, where, despite the large cast of characters, most felt like they had a place and importance.  Here, some of the big names and characters seemed underused and even their big moments seem anticlimactic (Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan). 

But I think the real reason I couldn’t go for X-Men: Days Of Future Past is the story.  Yes, I said the setup was interesting, but we have seen the time travel to the past to change the future gambit before, it doesn’t really feel like it’s that important to the plot until the end (when, without giving too much away, it acts like all the non-Singer directed X-Men films, even the spin-off ones, didn’t happen) and the movie puts so much effort into trying to make us feel the plot is airtight that it becomes really irritating and distracting to see so many inconsistencies and loose-ends in it.  OK, you can say that about many films about time travel, but being able to pick a film apart on that trope while you’re watching it is a whole different story than thinking to yourself hours after seeing it, “hey, that doesn’t completely make sense,” and I was saying that to myself constantly during this movie.  

There are many holes I could highlight here, but I’ll stick with two.  First, Ellen Page’s Kitty Pryde is the whole arbiter of getting Wolverine to the past by holding his mind in place or something and, while she’s holding him in place, he starts slashing and he cuts her quite bad, causing her to start losing a lot of blood and the other characters are having trouble covering the wound.  That should be creating tension that she may lose Wolverine and he’ll be trapped in the 70s, but then the film completely ignores it and never brings it up again. And second, the characters keep telling us about the paradoxes of time-travel and how changing one event will lead to different events and a different future but, as far as I can tell in this movie, stopping that one person from being killed is going to be enough to make the future absolutely perfect.  Not only do I not buy it, but I get the sense that the film is playing fast and loose with the paradoxes it’s clearly trying to stay believable in regards to by pretty much ignoring or oversimplifying the inconvenient, but clearly prevalent, details that would get in the way of having the story result in the conclusion they’re going for. 

I will admit that I’m not a massive follower of the X-Men and I’ve only seen three of the films, including this one, so the fans probably understand this film better and have better answers to a lot of my questions.  But why couldn’t Singer answer those questions for me and make a film that doesn’t hinge on knowing everything about the enterprise going in?  He did that fine with X-Men 2: X-Men United (I refuse to call that film by its real and real stupid name), so what’s the excuse here?  Either way, this film isn’t bad (and it looks a lot better when compared to something like The Amazing Spider-Man 2) and the fans can love it, but I’ll personally stick with X-Men 2 and, for a 2014 Marvel adaptation that better walks the line of satisfying fans and playing just as well to comparative outsiders, Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

Neighbors

If I was to rate these overrated films in terms of quality, Neighbors was the definitely the worst one and it’s a massive personal disappointment to me.  It’s also, arguably, the most controversial picture of the summer, as some social justice warriors went after it in the wake of the Isla Vista shooting, saying that “misogynistic” films like this goaded on a pathetic and mentally disturbed virgin male to go on a killing spree against the women who wronged him.  Even actor Seth Rogen said that was BS, and he was right, given how active and central a character the main female in this film is.  So, if you’ve heard this film bashed on those grounds, it’s unfounded and a bad reason to hate this film (especially since most of those people didn't give other sexist films grief, like Woody Allen's Magic In The Moonlight, which got a complete pass, despite giving us Emma Stone for us to do nothing but ogle).  With that out of the way, let’s talk about a good reason to hate Neighbors (and the reason I do); because it’s a depressing and laugh-deprived missed opportunity of a comedy. 

Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne play a married couple with a newborn baby living in a suburban neighborhood when, one day, a local college fraternity moves into the house next door.  The couple is concerned that the frat house life will result in high noise levels that will disturb their child, so they try to form an agreement with the head of the frat, played by Zac Efron.  At first, things go well, when Rogen and Byrne have a night of fun with the frat but, when the frat refuses to keep the noise down one night, Rogen calls the cops (which he told Efron he’d never do), which starts an all-out war between the couple and the frat. 

Now, with a familiar premise like that, why was I looking forward to this?  Well, this movie was directed by Nicholas Stoller, who made Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which also had an old-hat comedic setup, but was also able to elevate itself above it to make a wonderful and hilarious film that had some pointed insights regarding relationships, break-ups and how we manage both (though I’m starting to think that writer Jason Segel may have been more responsible for that film’s success). With Neighbors, there were some pretty good laughs early on (particularly the vintage history video reel of the frat, going all the way back to the 1920s and the frat’s Robert DeNiro party) and I could almost see this movie getting ready to break out and become a similarly transcendent, insightful and entertaining experience as Forgetting Sarah Marshall was.  Unfortunately, the movie then decides to take the easy way out and it can’t even do that right. 

Even for a crude comedy like this, the jokes mostly fall flat, as they’re desperate, played out and come off as the film trying too hard to shock us.  To be fair, there are a couple of shocking comedic moments related to some of the physical gags, but they’re not shocking in a good way and they all revel in the pain and suffering of the people involved in a way that’s the furthest thing from being funny.  Take the scene with Rose Byrne’s character having to breastfeed the baby after waking up with a hangover after a night of heavy drinking at the frat house.  Now, the milk inside of her has hardened and she needs to pump it out first, but the film makes a critical error in trying to get the laughs out of us by showing Byrne’s swollen bare breasts and having her yelling “Ow, it hurts” while she uses the breast pump.  Simply put, we don’t laugh because the potentially clever angle of the setup is completely destroyed by the fact that we’re focused completely on the clear pain and suffering of this woman, and there’s nothing funny about that. Same goes for the stuff with the airbags, which emphasizes the victims’ cracking bones and again, overall pain and suffering to the point where, if anyone’s going to laugh at it, it’s either because they’re doing so out of incredulity (which clearly aren’t the kind of laughs this movie’s after) or because they have a few screws loose inside their mind. 

Also, the performances disappoint here, as Zac Efron doesn't deliver the effective comedic punch needed for the frat house leader and Seth Rogen's rehashing the same irresponsible man-child stoner we’ve seen him do hundreds of times and without any unique angles to it, the film really drags, even at only around 90 minutes, and the attempts to be insightful (mostly about life after college, the strength of relationships and the serious aspects of parenthood) fall flat.  On the latter point, not only is the transition to those topics from raunchy stuff clumsily handled, but the attitudes that the characters have towards the others in those big scenes are inconsistent from the last scene we saw them together and most of the topics explored here and the insights gleamed are straight steals from films that far better mixed those serious elements with their bawdy humor, namely, Superbad, Knocked Up, Adventureland and, obviously, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  Here’s hoping the people who liked this film will see those aforementioned films if they haven’t (especially the latter one), so they can see how they do most everything that this film does and far better.

  Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes 

Like X-Men: Days Of Future Past, this acclaimed sequel to 2011’s Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes does have some things going for it and, considering the reputation for major summer franchise enterprises requiring you to leave your brain at the door to get any entertainment value out of them, this film’s attempts at mixing real-world concepts and social commentary with action and technology are certainly welcome.  Unfortunately, Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes is another case of a high-concept and high-minded major release being brought down by significant flaws and resulting in an empty and forgettable experience that not even its positives can make up for. 

After revolting from being used as scientific experiments in the 2011 film (or so I’ve heard; I didn’t see Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes), the apes have moved into the mountains and are living a more peaceful life under the leadership of Caesar (portrayed by legendary motion capture actor Andy Serkis).  Living away from the mountain are the humans, who are living in the aftermath of the simian flu (that apparently got loose and devastated the world in the last movie) and are trying to maintain the food and electricity needed to survive.  The latter resource is near its end and only a hydroelectric dam in the mountains will keep the humans alive.  A group of humans, led by Malcolm (Jason Clarke) attempt to forge a truce with the apes and, although Malcom and Caesar seem on-board with repairing the broken human-ape relations, neither all of the humans nor all of the apes agree. 

Based on that synopsis, this certainly is a film that had some thought put into its story and its messages and, at the movie’s best, it’s temporarily a sophisticated and interesting sci-fi epic with timely themes, interesting ideas and some fantastic and seamless CG and special effects work.  Also, Andy Serkis’s turn as Caesar is fantastic, showing a great level of intrigue, nuance and expressiveness that makes us completely believe in the character, makes Serkis the star of the movie and makes it that, even as a motion capture performance, this is real and great acting going on here that shouldn’t be dismissed when it comes to awards consideration.  

Unfortunately, Serkis’s performance is the only good one in the film and that’s only the first item on the laundry list of problems I had with this movie.  The acting, aside from Serkis’s, doesn’t work because, except for him, none of the other actors are good enough to be able to break out from how poorly developed and underwritten their characters are.  Having the human characters (and even some of the apes) falling into archetypes designed to grossly oversimplify and borderline lecture about what once sounded like (for a summer Hollywood blockbuster) a daring and insightful exploration into racial relations is disheartening, especially given a cast containing strong talents like Judy Greer, Keri Russell and especially Gary Oldman.  Some may say that the humans aren’t the point of this movie, but that’s what they said about the recent Godzilla film, yet, even in the confines of the human actors not being that film’s focus, either, I found far more intrigue, memorability and depth to its human actors’ emotions and motivations than I did here. 

Along with the acting, the story’s intrigue and importance are further neutered with too many throw-away plot details that end up meaning nothing in the end, boring and self-indulgent action scenes and too many jarring tonal shifts.  Yes, I get there are supposed to be highs and lows to the relationship between the apes and the humans, but they seem too arbitrary here, and the use of music makes them even more aggravating, such as that scene that painfully obviously applies The Band’s The Weight and, well, basically any scene that uses the film’s on-the-nose and often inappropriately whimsical score that represents a shocking misstep from the usually peerless Michael Giacchino, whose score for Up won him an Oscar (so given that, of all people, he really should know better when it comes to maintaining a movie’s tone via his music scores).  Furthermore, the symbolism of the film becomes really heavy-handed, especially in the third act, and the evocation of real world tragedies is poorly handled and unearned, with that cheap nod to 9/11 near the end really making me feel uneasy, and not in a good way. 

Also, throughout the film, I gradually lost respect for one thing I liked about it for a while; its sense of intelligence and belief in the audience being able to understand its heady concepts.  I even felt it as the film first opened with the ape’s hunting for food, as the film shows the apes using sign language (I guess because they learned it in the labs in the 2011 film), but then, needlessly employs subtitles.  What’s the point? It’s pretty obvious what’s being expressed and the film has other passages where they don’t use them, which are far more effective and still keep the audience abreast of the meaning and emotions on display.  Also, Caesar chooses to speak to the humans, while sticking to the sign language/ape language when with his ape brethren, but then we get points where he talks to the apes in English anyway. Why? As far as I can tell, it’s only to give the audience needless plot exposition in a film that already has too much, further exposing this film as one of those movies that pretends to respect the audience’s intelligence, but really doesn’t, which is arguably more cynical and offensive than the brainless summer exercises that are at least more honest about not caring about how smart the viewers are. 

Despite what I’ve just said, this isn’t a bad film exactly and it’ll probably be worth a rent for its positive elements.  However, if the writers and filmmakers really wanted a less disposable summer sci-fi extravaganza, they really should have finished the job and completely committed to it and not introduce that angle, but then chicken out, because, in doing so, they really did a disservice to not just the viewers, but also the cast and crew (especially Andy Serkis) who are putting their all into it and whose efforts ended up being diminished.   Or, to put it another way, they should have taken the path that Godzilla did, which did basically everything right that this one did wrong and which there’s a good chance I’ll be talking about among my summer’s best.

  Guardians Of The Galaxy 

OK, now I’m officially an enemy of the state, because I’m standing up right now to say that I did not like Guardians Of The Galaxy, which has been widely considered the best film of the summer and is currently the highest grossing film of the year.  Based on those things alone, this should be my most overrated film of the summer, but I will admit that it’s probably the best of the five overrated films I’ve selected for this write-up.  I also will not argue in any way with the people who love it, because, to the film’s credit, it generally works on the levels that I think people are going in expecting it to, that is, as a self-aware sci-fi/fantasy comedy with some unique touches that make it stand out.  However, I think this film is reaching for higher hanging cinematic fruit than it’s being given credit for and it’s that additional reach, as well as some of my other issues with the film, that cast a pall over the rest of it for me. 

The film, based on the Marvel Comics series of the same name, follows the adventures of Peter Quill (played by Chris Pratt), a roguish mercenary always looking for a big score and always carrying his beloved mix tape of classic rock music (I can certainly relate to that last point).  Peter finds himself in possession of a mysterious orb that’s a deadly weapon being sought out by the evil Ronan who, not shockingly, wants to use it to take control of the galaxy.  After being locked in an intergalactic prison, Peter meets a group of strange characters with similar ideals to his, with whom he joins forces with to save the galaxy, including a talking raccoon hitman (voiced by Bradley Cooper), the alien daughter of Ronan whose allegiance to her father is wavering (Zoe Saldana), a walking, talking tree (voiced by Vin Diesel) who can only say “I am Groot,” and a muscle man seeking revenge on Ronan for the death of his wife and child (Dave Bautista).  

Unlike most fans of this movie (and the comic series), who seemed to say this was going to be a masterpiece going in and somehow, decided not to be discerning with the person helmed to be directing their latest comic book baby, I was a bit more skeptical.  Director James Gunn has mostly rubbed me the wrong way in the past, with the Scooby-Doo film he wrote (though I liked Scooby-Doo 2, which he also wrote) and even more so with his repulsive directorial efforts, specifically Super and Beezel, the latter being that short about the animated cat dreaming of sex with its owner, Josh Duhamel, from Movie 43 (yeah, I bet you comic fans ignored or, perhaps worse, rationalized those things, didn’t you?).  Thankfully, this film was surprising in that it was far better than those aforementioned messes (not that that’s saying anything) and, for a while, I was having fun.  The energy level here is kind of infectious, there are some funny and clever touches (particularly the stuff with the music, which is great, and scene where Peter regales the plot from Footloose to someone as a seduction technique), the pacing’s pretty good, the performances of most of the principle leads are there (particularly by Pratt and Cooper) and they have good chemistry, and the special effects and CG create a convincing illusion of the space world that the film is set in. 

Sounds like I mostly enjoyed this then, right?  Well, unfortunately, from the very start, this movie wants to take its light aura and mix it in with a level of dramatic involvement between and pathos regarding the characters that we’re supposed to get the feels from, and all that drama is completely unconvincing and poorly handled.  This is an issue starting from the opening scene, which shows Peter’s reason for holding on to his mix tape in a really overwrought fashion and, as the film goes on, the supposed dramatic moments between his rag-tag companions fall flat on their face, thanks to the completely unmotivated and arbitrary shifts between the team members loving and hating each other that are more akin to turning off the light switch in your bedroom than anything resembling convincing human (and even, in this case, some non-human) interactions.  It really is a problem, given how generally well-developed the characters are, given how other Marvel adaptations, most notably The Avengers, do the same mix of light and heavy better and also, because the failed drama kind of killed the buzz of the lighter elements for me and makes the film’s later snark and whimsy come off feeling forced and pedestrian.       

Another buzzkill was the poor way in which the action scenes were handled, which made it impossible for me to get involved in or excited about them.  Like far too many big budget films of this type, the film favors frequent quick-cuts and close-up shots that make it difficult to follow what’s happening and the only times we can understand the action is when the film uses slow-motion, which comes off more of an obvious sign of where the 3D is in this post-conversion 3D job (which, seeing as I could tell that in 2D, hints that the 3D is tacked on and not worth the up-charge) than some intoxicating effect that gets us excited.  Also, as far as other issues I had, although the performances are generally good, some of the actors present here are disappointingly underused or their characters are too one-note.  Specifically, I’m talking about Glenn Close and John C. Reilly, but also the walking tree Groot, whose “I am Groot” bit gets old very quickly, despite the failed attempts to vary it up. 

So, yeah, I didn’t quite like this movie, but I can understand the appeal and the film is well-made enough that, if people were to come up to me and ask if they should see it, I’d probably say that, though I didn’t go for it, if they’ve been anticipating it or like the aura the trailers gave off, they should probably go and they’ll probably enjoy it (and clearly, many have).  Maybe by the time Guardians Of The Galaxy 2 comes out in 2017 (which is pretty obviously set up at the end of this film and was actually and, I’d say, awfully presumptuously, announced before this one opened), I’ll be on board with this series, but for now, count me out.

Best Of The Summer

1. How To Train Your Dragon 2 

How To Train Your Dragon 2 is the sequel to the masterful 2010 CG animated film How To Train Your Dragon and, not only is this sequel a worthy successor, but it was also easily the best major film released all summer, BY FAR.  Why? Well, it’s the only one I gave my highest score of 4 Stars to, and also, for me, it did everything I wanted a major summer release to do and more, to the point where every similar major effort that came after it suffered greatly by comparison.   Despite that, though, and despite rave reviews, this film kind of underperformed at the box office.  Here’s hoping you didn’t miss it and if you did, number 1, shame on you (add extra shame and, if you’re a parent, a well-deserved visit from child protective services if you went to Planes 2 over this) and number 2, here’s why the film is so wonderful and why you should be anticipating its DVD/Blu-Ray release on November 11th. 

The film picks up where the original left off, with the residents of the Viking town of Berk embracing their newly found alliance with the local dragons, thanks to the previous efforts of Hiccup (voiced by Jay Baruchel) and his tamed dragon Toothless.  Hiccup’s father, Stoick, the leader of the Viking tribe (voiced by Gerard Butler), is preparing Hiccup to take on the eventual duties of succeeding him as the leader of Berk but Hiccup, as a typical teenager (well, as typical as a teenager living as a Viking and with a dragon companion can be, I guess), isn’t ready to rise to the occasion just yet.  However, a new threat approaches that does require his attention; the rise of the Dragon Riders, who, under the leadership of Drago (voiced by Djimon Hounsou, far better developed and served here than in Guardians Of The Galaxy), plan to use dragons to decimate and conquer the lands for themselves.  Thankfully, Hiccup won’t be alone, as he has the support of all his friends back home, including his girlfriend, Astrid (voiced by America Ferrera), as well as some unexpected support from a mysterious Dragon master with some similar taming methods as Hiccup… 

Like the first film, that setup sounds quite familiar and clichéd but, just like the first film, How To Train Your Dragon 2’s execution of its familiar elements amazingly makes them feel fresh, exciting, surprising, intelligent and brave again.  It’s really a miracle to me, given just how many films I see and it really does show a level of creativity, passion and care that I’d love to see in pretty much every single major family CG animated film out there (or, for that matter, ANY major film release) and for which I’m always knocking films over not expressing.  Yes, I may be a very cynical man when it comes to movies, but when I get a film like How To Train Your Dragon 2 that shows me that passion and where basically everything works wonderfully, my critical defenses fall like a house of cards and I’ll completely and unequivocally embrace it. 

So what are those things that work so well here?  Well, the atmosphere of the film, for one, which dovetails beautifully with the strikingly gorgeous art direction, the sumptuous, detailed and colorful animation and those excellent action and flying scenes that are exciting, expertly staged and, like Gravity last year, effectively use the IMAX 3D the way every 3D film should; to further transport you into the world of the film without feeling gimmicky or appearing blurry.  The audio is fantastic, too, with the great sound design, the majestic and memorable music score from John Powell, and the excellent voice acting, the latter of which really enhances the personalities and resonance of the characters being portrayed in a way that really shows how strong voice work is, in its way, as involved, vital and worthy of praise as physical acting is. 

I also love the story construction here.  With many films, I’m often saying that they don’t manage their pacing well or transition seamlessly when they try to transition between different tones.  Not here, as this film flows very well between its natural and effective passages of comedy, fantasy action, romance and emotional drama (the latter of which really does leave a surprisingly strong impact) and the pacing is smooth throughout.  Also, these scenes do a great job of further underscoring the strength of the animation, as in the scene when Hiccup imitates his father’s voice and mannerisms to Astrid or in a late scene when Hiccup finds a hidden dragon colony and we see Toothless being bombarded by baby dragons, which he attempts to bat off (and let me tell you, I loved the subtlety of that scene, where Toothless is able to make us laugh by basically moving his eyes to look at the baby dragon on his tail before knocking it away, and the film has many more great sections that work similarly, and not only for comedic effect). 

OK, so How To Train Your Dragon 2 was clearly the best film of the summer to me (and I kind of got that sense after I saw it), but is it better than the original film?  Honestly, even about 3 months after seeing it, I’m not sure, as the first film was also a masterpiece and, unlike this one, it’s greatness kind of came out of nowhere for me (this one, I was anticipating because the original was so good).  Even so, I’d say that this sequel is at least as good, which says a lot given that it had to follow 2010’s 5th Best Film and also, given that most sequels to great films don’t even come close to equaling their predecessors.  Either way, though, this is a wonderful, must-see movie for all ages and one that you may also see again on my 10 Best Films List for 2014…

  Godzilla 

After suffering through the first two major releases this summer, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and Neighbors, I said at the time that the “2014 summer movie season is already in serious trouble.”  Thankfully, a certain legendary Toho monster film icon heard my pleas for an epic and substantial summer Hollywood blockbuster and came to save us from lackluster entertainments resulting in a film that became the season’s first major highlight and one that I’m still looking back on with fond memories.  I’m, of course, talking about Godzilla, a fantastic and first-rate American reimagining of the big green lizard that honors the breakout Japanese original film and delivers for both Godzilla fans and newcomers on all the levels you’re going in expecting it will, while also hitting the bulls-eye in many other ways that you may not be expecting it to.    

The story cleverly begins by showing the Japanese nuclear test that resulted in the creation of Godzilla in the first place and then, fast forwards to 1999, where researcher Ichiro (Ken Watanabe) and his assistant Vivianne (Sally Hawkins) are responding to a potential uranium find during a dig and find a strange cocoon that’s recently hatched.  Meanwhile, Joe Brody (played by Bryan Cranston) is working in a Japanese nuclear plant where the earthquakes have been getting worse and he loses his wife during the plant’s meltdown.  Fast-forward to present day, when Joe’s son, Ford (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is in the military, married to Elle (Elizabeth Olsen) with a child and coming home from the Navy to see his family… but not his father, whom he’s become estranged to.  The father and son meet up again after Joe’s arrested for trespassing, but, despite being emotionally broken, Joe believes that the meltdown was caused by a mysterious creature who’s returning to destroy the world.  Turns out he’s right and from there, the film bounces between Joe, Ford’s attempts to get home to his family and the military attempting to stop the threat of the creature, but who is the creature? Is it Godzilla, as Ichiro thinks, and is he exacting revenge for what happened in the 1950s (and in the original film, for that matter)?

Yeah, there’s a lot going on here, but this movie does a fantastic job of balancing all its characters, story threads and changing moods.  Given that this is a Godzilla picture, you’d expect some great creature destruction and action and, yes, that is here, but not necessarily as you’d expect.  The film’s something of a slow burn in that we don’t really know what’s happening regarding the destruction going on and I think it’s that confusion that really enhances the early disaster scenes of the film in a way that makes them surprisingly realistic and scary.  This film is certainly echoing modern disasters and tragedies like 9/11, Hurricane Katrina and the Asian tsunamis but, unlike so many mass entertainments that do that (like Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes), this one actually has a context and reason for doing it and those scenes never came off to me as lazy, insensitive or needless, and that’s quite a statement. 

That also helps us relate more to the humans on display here, which dovetails well with the scenes of their character development that, despite some criticisms the film has gotten on this front, didn’t feel like the human characters were being underdeveloped or put on the shelf.  Yeah, I really respect that this film has enough care to go into these characters’ personalities as much as it does (though I will admit that they don’t have as much to do as, say, a character-based drama would) and the acting is quite good throughout, though special mention must go to Bryan Cranston, who is so effectively raw, uncompromising and authentic that he really makes an impact, despite being a smaller player in the movie.  In fact, I’d go so far as saying that he’s doing nomination worthy acting here and yes, we are still talking about a Godzilla movie.

Speaking of which, it takes a while for us to see Godzilla, but trust me; he’s here and the build-up to him is kind of the beauty of this film.  Director Gareth Edwards (he made 2010’s Monsters on a budget of about 1/200th of this film)  takes a risky, but very rewarding approach to the build-up of Godzilla and, for that matter, the way he excitingly sets up and delivers on basically every shot of this movie.  This is a director who, despite not having made many films, clearly knows what he’s doing, showing great control of tension (the build-up and release of it is quite effective), tone and shot composition, resulting in some genuinely enthralling, exciting and scary shots and situations (such as that one on top of the rail-bridge).  Admittingly, his pacing could use some tuning, especially in the third act, where it’s not as wonderfully tight with its story balances as earlier on, but that he’s getting as much of this directing thing right at this point is cause for celebration and makes him someone to keep your eye on.  That, and when Edwards finally brings the big lizard to us, he’s perfectly prepared us for Godzilla’s long-awaited return, makes his arrival fit together seamlessly with the story as it’s unfolded thus far and delivers some great action, Oscar-worthy special effects, art direction/design of the creatures and some tips of the hat to the series that had me, and everyone else in my theater, frequently cheering and applauding louder than at any time during any movie I’ve seen all year.

As I said earlier, my expectations weren’t exactly high on this film, partly because, though I know about Godzilla, I’m not a massive follower of the series and also, because of the bad luck I had recently had with finding the first great movie of the summer of 2014.  Well, it took two weeks into the summer to get the movie I was hoping for and it’s still great and, especially as I look back on it nearly 5 months after its release, its craft and entertainment value shames most major enterprises like it that we saw this summer.  I guess Blue Oyster Cult was right in saying that “history shows again and again how nature points up the folly of men,” which Godzilla sure did with this excellent film that I’ll keep telling people to “go go” check out.

  Maleficent 

Now, this one was a surprise.  Perhaps it’s because I saw A Million Ways To Die In The West right before seeing this or because of the kind of pedestrian trailers I saw (or probably both), but I was skeptical about Disney’s live-action revisionist take on the story of Sleeping Beauty and its legendary villainess.  Was this going to be a film only for families and young girls?  Would it come off as sacrilege in regards to its differences with the original animated film and the fairy tale itself, especially as it purports to be “the real story” behind Maleficent?  Well, the answer to both questions is no and this film turned out to be one sweet, intriguing, visually stunning and excellent entertainment. 

The story of Sleeping Beauty, if you recall, involves Aurora, a young girl who has a curse by the put on her by the sorceress Maleficent, requiring Aurora to receive true love’s kiss before her 16th birthday or enter an eternal slumber.  This movie covers that part of the story, while looking a little deeper into Maleficent’s character, explaining her past living in the Moors, a peaceful fairy kingdom at odds with the corrupted human kingdom.  As a young girl, Maleficent meets a young boy named Stefan caught trespassing in the Moors and they form a nice friendship that blossoms into romance but, after the Moors is attacked by the humans, their bond breaks.  Maleficent grows into a dedicated and bitter fairy guardian (played by Angelina Jolie) while Stefan (Sharlto Copley) becomes corrupted with power following his ascension to the throne of the human kingdom.  To protect the Moors and exact revenge for the loss of her wings, Maleficent places the aforementioned curse onto Stefan’s daughter, Aurora (Elle Fanning).  Meanwhile, three fairies (played by Leslie Manville, Juno Temple and Imelda Staunton), troubled by Maleficent’s curse, raise Aurora as their own, while Maleficent watches on. 

To be honest, I’m not the most knowledgeable person about Sleeping Beauty or many fairy tales, so perhaps my opinion on this film regarding its twist on the story won’t carry as much weight as those more familiar with it, but I really found Maleficent to be quite clever and effective in the way it reimagines such an iconic story.  I will admit that it definitely takes some big liberties with Sleeping Beauty and some might argue that the setup of this plot is, depending on how they look at it, either a thoughtless and obvious feminist criticism or a cheap reinforcement of gender roles in fairy tales (the latter case could feasibly be made from the idea that Maleficent’s actions seem to stem from a man wronging her).  Thankfully, the film falls into none of those traps and does not disgrace the famous story it subverts, and that speaks to the film’s strong direction, writing and acting.  

On the writing and story front, the film takes what seem initially to be simplistic reasons for Maleficent's actions and gives us a complete portrait of this character (not to mention the film’s other players) that feels both of a piece within this fantasy setting, but also in terms of human nature and how we react to both good and bad things that happen to us.  Interestingly enough, the film actually has a lot of subtlety regarding that and there’s something to be said about the film effectively mixing some surprisingly heady and authentic concepts like that within its already well-executed and entertaining fantasy adventure epic.  To me, I really appreciate that, because it shows that, even in a film like this, a mixture of cinematic escapism and narrative ideas is possible and the two concepts don’t necessarily need to be mutually exclusive.  

Also, the strength of the script and storytelling extends to the performances, which do a great job of both filling the fairy tale character archetypes we know while also transcending them. Leslie Manville, Juno Temple and Imelda Staunton take what would otherwise be gooey and uncomfortable slapstick and, through their expert byplay and chemistry, make their scenes quite charming (while also further proving my point that having these three actors in any movie on their own, let alone all together here, will pretty much always be a positive factor), Elle Fanning shows interesting dimension as Aurora, as does Sharlto Copley as Stefan, but then we come to the main star here; Angelina Jolie in the title role.  Simply put, she knocks this one out of the park by, again, playing into what we know about the character (the delicious and almost operatic villainy) while also perfectly modulating and balancing that with some great expressions of her feelings, often without saying a word.  Seriously, there are times we she just brushes her cape off of the ground or subtly moves her eyes and it’s just as engrossing and joyous to see as the stuff we came in expecting from Maleficent. 

Finally, we have the direction.  This is actually the directorial debut of Robert Stromberg, whose background is in visual effects, and, along with giving us a sumptuous and exquisite look at and atmosphere of this fairy tale world (complete with seamless, colorful and detailed visuals and CG), shows us a great control of pacing and tone, as well as a great eye that hints at further directing talent should he decide to go down that route.  He definitely has a visual eye and here, he does a great job of marrying it to the narrative, especially the use of shadows, which I loved and which perfectly complement the scenes that they’re used it (and not only for foreboding purposes).  

I see a lot of films, so when I really get the sense of a director who shows potential and excitement in their composition, especially in a major release like this where it too often isn’t considered or given attention, I can tell and I really like to see it.  That statement also applies to Maleficent as a whole, because it could have easily been some empty style exercise, but it has a lot of cinematic value and worth that’ll make it appeal to more than just families and young girls (though they’ll love it, too, and rightly so) and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s probably the best recent major fantasy epic, even outdoing The Hobbit films by a substantial margin.  

If I Stay 

Continuing the trend of major summer releases that turned out to be surprisingly effective, here’s If I Stay, another adaptation of a popular young adult novel that deals with the mortality of a high school girl.  If that sounds familiar, you probably remember The Fault In Our Stars from earlier in the summer and remember how I thought that shameless and hypocritical film was the most overrated picture of the season.  And, to be honest, If I Stay is the reason why I bestowed that unwanted honor on The Fault In Our Stars, because this young adaptation/melodrama is an infinitely superior effort that does a far better job of handling similar dramatic material that did get me emotionally invested and did so in a far more honest and earned fashion. 

Chloe Grace Moretz stars as Mia, a high school cellist living with her young brother, her former rock musician father (played by Joshua Leonard; yeah, the guy from The Blair Witch Project) and her former groupie of said rock musician mother (Mireille Enos) and awaiting acceptance letters from colleges, including one from the cream of the crop of musical education, Julliard.  While driving on a snowy day, the entire family is injured in a catastrophic car crash and Mia enters a coma.  However, while in this coma, Mia is able to walk around the hospital in a Christmas Carol-esque n out-of-body state, wondering what’s going to happen to her family and her.  The film then (and frequently) transitions between Mia’s ethereal purgatory and her past, explaining her growth, love of music, her relationship with her family and her growing relationship with a travelling musician named Adam (Jamie Blackley), which apparently was starting to hit the skids before Mia and her family’s accident. 

Some of the story elements on display here are the kind I’ve seen in a bunch of movies like this before and I will admit that not all of them work perfectly.  Specifically, a couple of the fights that Mia and Adam have, the initial social awkwardness of Mia and the sex scene where Mia verbally correlates how she’s supposed to please her partner using her cello playing terminology didn’t quite sit right with or feel natural to me.  But, unlike something like The Fault In Our Stars, all of the other familiar elements are well-managed, well-handled and actually achieve our involvement and sympathy without feeling like the film is pandering, cloying or talking down to us.  Credit there has to go to director R.J Cutler, a former documentarian now doing features (his previous credits include The September Issue and A Perfect Candidate) and Whip It screenwriter Shauna Cross, who are able to take the material of Gayle Forman’s book and give us a world, characters and a story that feel surprisingly authentic and lived-in.  

You don’t always get and might not expect such believability out of a film with young adult/teen tropes like wannabe hipster parents, clear tugging at the heartstrings and a jagged narrative structure to reflect the myriad of emotional ups and downs of young life and love, but this movie effectively pulls it all off.  The film also impressed me with its dead-on look at musicians, partly with the former rock glory days of Mia’s parents (and their reflections on it and their reasons for leaving it behind), but mostly with the passion of Mia’s love of classical music and the cello.  To Mia, her music is like a second voice to her and, yes, that’s not unexplored territory in the movies, but the way this film views her music, her talents and her aspirations and how they perfectly complement everything that she cares about in life is believable at every step, including her being gun-shy about music that’s not classical (except The Beatles; speaking from personal experience, they always seem to be the only non-classical band that classical music devotees/players can open up completely towards), gaining self-confidence from playing and the late scene that beautifully ties all that together, accompanied by arguably the best and most unique cover of The Smashing Pumpkins' Today that I’ve heard. 

All of these positives are further enhanced by the strong lead performance from Chloe Grace Moretz (who, along with her underrated turn in Hugo, shows us here what she’s truly capable of when not stuck in junk like Movie 43 or those Kick-Ass movies she publically champions), strong supporting work from Jamie Blackley (who exhibits good chemistry with Moretz) and Stacy Keach (quite effective, even in this small role), the aforementioned and confident direction, writing and story construction and the film’s perfect ending, which dovetails wonderfully with the narrative and  the film’s emotional and intellectual outlook.  So, yeah, I may not have liked The Fault In Our Stars, but my admiration for If I Stay should give you an idea that I’m all for stories like this in films, but successful execution is the key and, in an era without enough major releases that understand that, If I Stay is even more of a treasure.  

  22 Jump Street 

I think based on the three films I’ve seen from directors Christopher Miller and Phil Lord, they’ve established themselves amongst the most creative and consistent American comedy directors that have popped up recently.  This year alone they’ve already given us two films; The Lego Movie, which I also liked and now, 22 Jump Street.  I was really looking forward to 22 Jump Street, given that its predecessor, 21 Jump Street, was a shockingly great comedy that, thanks to its postmodern perspective on its original material and hilarious and on-point insights regarding modern youth culture, resulted in a great film that not only made my 10 Best List for 2102, but is a movie I truly believe is this decade’s equivalent to the great Wayne’s World.  22 Jump Street, admittingly, does not reach the same heights as its predecessor, but it’s still a most entertaining, funny, clever and worthy follow-up, especially during a summer where finding humor in a major movie release was almost scientifically impossible. 

Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum return again as Schmidt and Janko, the California undercover cops who, in the first film, went back to high school via Captain Dickson’s 21 Jump Street project (cleverly described in that film as mirroring the old TV show) to infiltrate a drug-ring.  This time, they’re on the streets busting narcotics traffickers but, after their ambush on a notorious kingpin goes south, they’re put back to undercover drug busting business and under the watchful eye of Dickson (Ice Cube).  This time, they’re off to college to investigate a new popular drug that’s apparently resulted in the death of a student and, despite that, continues to rise in popularity. 

Based on that description, especially if you didn’t see the first film, you may think 22 Jump Street is the typical and cynical Hollywood buddy cop comedy with a plot as old as the hills that, as a sequel, also doubles as a complete and lazy copy of its predecessor.  However, this is a film that, like the first one, is very self-aware (though not to the point of being obvious or obnoxious), clever and full of neat surprises and twists that result in good and knowing laughs, both in big and small ways.  Oh sure, you have some great comedic set-ups and pay-offs (I loved that scene at the brunch during parents’ weekend with Dickson and a cameo that, out of delighted instinct, I blurted out loud at the theater when I saw who it was) and funny lines of dialogue, but there’s also many great inside references and subtle visual gags hidden in the frame that invite a second viewing to catch them all (and, unlike The Lego Movie, 22 Jump Street doesn’t have poorly done 3D to get in the way of making out the background stuff).  Also, just like the original, this movie stands out by being a raucous-style comedy that also has its ear to the ground in terms of modern youth culture, resulting in some great take-offs and satirical touches regarding college life and culture that are simultaneously grounded in a surprising aura of authenticity, including the relationships between Schmidt and an English major (who he meets after doing a hilarious impromptu eulogy/poetry slam) and the bond between Janko and an all-star football player. 

Having said that, I have to admit that, although this is definitely a funny comedy and it’s well-worth seeing, it does suffer slightly in comparison to its predecessor.  As I said earlier, 21 Jump Street made my 10 Best List in 2012 and it’s a film that had me doing the “quote whore” thing of comparing it to a classic like Wayne’s World (though, unlike quote-whores, I could easily justify why I felt the comparison was appropriate) and, going in, I’d never have guessed I’d end up falling head over heels for it.  As such, and because it was one of two sequels this summer to predecessors that were Top 10 worthy (How To Train Your Dragon 2 was the other one), 22 Jump Street had some big shoes to fill and it can’t quite reach the same heights.  To be sure, it certainly has all the elements that made the original great, which is what a fan like me would want out of a sequel, and it certainly does continue to surprise, delight and amuse in ways that many follow-ups can’t, but the film isn’t as tightly wound as the original.  

For one thing, although the third act is clever, self-effacing and takes many twists and turns, it goes on a bit too long, to the point where I was starting to have enough and where a little editing could have better accentuated the parts that make it fun without it feeling long in the tooth.  I also found that the relationship between Janko and Schmidt and the strains it and they went through here, unlike the first movie, felt more pedestrian and tired than unique and funny (despite it being obvious that it’s a take-off on such buddy cop relationship).  And finally, though I was laughing at this movie at a consistent rate, they’re slightly outweighed by nods of admiration and smiles, which I certainly am glad to have, but which came for me at some obviously big scenes intended to be extremely funny, signaling that maybe some of the humor doesn’t hit the comedic bulls-eye this time around (though I’d say that smile/admiration to laugh ratio leans slightly more towards laughs than The Lego Movie did, which I also liked, but also had the same problem with).

OK, so, maybe 22 Jump Street is to 21 Jump Street what Wayne’s World 2 was to Wayne’s World, but that’s certainly not a bad thing, because it still signals that 22 Jump Street is a fun and funny comedy that may not live up to a surprisingly seminal film, but is still a worthwhile follow-up to it.  Also, when you consider the fact that there wasn’t a single good major release comedy that came out all summer aside from this, it looks even better and makes me even more grateful that, in Christopher Miller and Phil Lord, we have major comedy directors who actually know what they’re doing and will hopefully continue to use their talents for years to come.   

OK, so my equivalent of the Super Bowl, the Oscars, is tonight and, as usual, I’m here to tell you what films will win.  Honestly, I need redemption after last year, where I made a bunch of pretty bad calls and ended up with very few correct guesses.  But this year, I’m doing something different. 

Unlike in 2012, I saw all the big nominees from 2013 and, in most categories, I have a personal opinion I can make to say which awards would be given out if I was in charge.  Some may wonder why I keep watching the Oscars every year, even when I know that some films I love won’t get much attention (and some didn’t get attention already, given the lack of nominations for some of my favorites, like Mud and Inside Llewyn Davis), but it’s my love of the movies that keeps me coming back.  And indeed, each Oscar broadcast reminds me of that fact, in its own unique way.  So let’s get down to this:

  Best Picture

American Hustle

Captain Phillips

Dallas Buyers Club

Gravity

Her

Nebraska

Philomena

12 Years A Slave

The Wolf of Wall Street

  What Should Win:  I suppose I should consider myself lucky that, since 2009, my favorite film of the year has been nominated for Best Picture, but then I remember that my favorite film of the year is always one of the movies that never have a chance of winning.  I’d love to be able to refer to Up, Black Swan, The Descendants and/or Zero Dark Thirty as the Best Picture Oscar winner of their respective years, but I cannot, and history will repeat itself in 2013.  But this isn’t about what will win, but what would win if my opinion meant anything, and Her is my clear choice.  Spike Jonze made a mix of comedy, drama, romance and sci-fi with a premise that some may think sounds crazy, but it all feels real as presented here and no other film in 2013 filled me with as much cinematic excitement and joy as this.  It’s also one of the only 3 films that I truly think deserved to be nominated in this category, as aside from this, I only loved 12 Years A Slave and Gravity (Captain Phillips was pretty strong, Dallas Buyers Club only worked as a movie because of the performances and I didn’t like the 4 remaining films).

  What Will Win:  At this juncture, I think there are only two movies that have a shot at winning this; 12 Years A Slave and Gravity and you can make an effective case for predicting either one as the winner.  I could end up wrong about this, but my gut is telling me Gravity’s going to get it.  12 Years A Slave has been almost universally praised as an unflinching depiction of 19th century slavery (and rightly so) and, by that extension, its cinematic strengths and historical significance could carry the day, but its awards talk has kind of subsided since 2014 began, while Gravity has remained constant in being discussed for major awards (which is quite nice, seeing as I thought it would have gotten no nominations at all or only a few technical nods).  Also, I think that there’s something about how to-the-point Gravity is (though that’s not to say that it’s a simple-minded film) and, despite its comparatively lesser narrative importance (but arguably greater formal significance), that might attract Oscar voters over 12 Years A Slave.  Honestly, I’d be happy with either one winning, but I think Gravity’s gonna eek this one out.

Best Actor

Christian Bale for American Hustle

Bruce Dern for Nebraska

Leonardo DiCaprio for The Wolf of Wall Street

Chiwetel Ejiofor for 12 Years a Slave

Matthew McConaughey for Dallas Buyers Club

  Who Should Win:  This is a really tough one for me, because all of the performances here are very strong.  It’s also worth pointing out that of two of them, Bruce Dern and Leonardo DeCaprio, are still impressive despite the fact that, I feel, the movies they belong to are actively torpedoing them (Nebraska reveals itself in the end to be trafficking in cheap condescension of Dern’s character, despite not doing so earlier, and Scorsese doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain to narratively assist DeCaprio in The Wolf Of Wall Street, especially the longer it goes on).  Despite admiring all of these performances, it’s between McConaughey and Ejiofor for me and, as far as my preference, I slightly prefer McConaughey.  He’s been on an acting roll recently in films like Killer Joe and Mud and, in Dallas Buyers Club, he starts with a character who seems pretty repulsive (though, how completely accurate that is to the real Ron Woodruff, I can’t say), but he is multi-faceted and we really get a rooting interest in what’s going to happen to him.  Also, he expresses the social commentary and beliefs of the movie better than the film itself, to the point where, if McConaughey wasn’t playing Woodruff, I probably wouldn’t have recommended the film.  Yes, he’s that important to this movie (as are Jared Leto and Jennifer Garner, specifically), and that alone is reason enough to justify him winning here.

  Who Will Win: Earlier in the awards season, this one felt up for grabs, but now, I think it’s clear that Matthew McConaughey’s going to win for Dallas Buyers Club.  His physical transformation as the AIDS-inflicted Ron Woodruff got lots of attention, but the way he embodies this character and makes him into a completely authentic and complex figure, despite being mostly unlikable is even more impressive and, I’ll bet, is another factor being noticed by the Academy.  Also, the awards voters love it when actors who once looked perpetually stuck on a boat to nowhere reinvent themselves in a way that takes us by surprise, especially in a story with real-life social significance.  McConaughey and film he’s in do both, and I say he’ll win here. 

Best Actress

  Amy Adams for American Hustle

Cate Blanchett for Blue Jasmine

Sandra Bullock for Gravity

Judi Dench for Philomena

Meryl Streep for August: Osage County

  Who Should Win: Sandra Bullock for Gravity.  For me, none of the other performances come close and not just because Gravity is the only movie that these five performances came from that I liked.  Unlike the best actor category, I think the failure of the movies showcasing the other four performances ultimately let the actors down too much for them to be able to rise above them.  Also, I think what Bullock brought to Gravity showcased a depth and focus in her as an actress that I haven’t seen in her past work (including her Oscar winning turn in The Blind Side, which pales in comparison to her work here) and, of these five, was easily the hardest role to pull off.  By this, I mean she basically was doing a one-person show and had to convey her emotional state as it relates to her past and current traumas mostly on her own (the film’s narrative explanation was vague on that, and I think intentionally so).  To me, that far outdoes the other big name nominees here, particularly Cate Blanchett doing an American accent and playing a mentally disturbed woman in Blue Jasmine and certainly Meryl Streep chomping the scenery in August Osage County (yeah, I’m still really bitter that she got nominated for no other reason than being who she is, while Julia Louis Dreyfus got ignored for her strong and complex turn in Enough Said).

  Who Will Win:  Assuming that this whole “Woody Allen molested his biological daughter” thing (which I do believe happened, given his past and the fact that he wasn’t prosecuted in 1992 solely because of fears that the victim would go through too much anguish) doesn’t casts a strong enough cloud around every facet of his Blue Jasmine, it’ll be Cate Blanchett.   Apparently, since this movie came out, the press said she has the award locked up, which I guess is reason enough for the prediction and, regarding the aforementioned scandal, I doubt her chances will be hurt, seeing as her performance has been focused on without connection to the film’s writer/director and, as cynical as this may sound, seeing as she showed just enough compassion for the aggrieved (unlike Alec Baldwin’s profanity-laced reaction to it; if he was nominated, it’d have about the effect on his chances that Norbit had on Eddie Murphy’s 2006 nomination for Dreamgirls).  As I said before, I don’t think Blanchett is the one that should win, but she’ll probably be the one who does (but if Woody’s personal troubles do end up taking her down, Sandra Bullock will win, but again, I don’t think that’ll happen). 

Best Supporting Actor

  Barkhad Abdi for Captain Phillips

Bradley Cooper for American Hustle

Jonah Hill for The Wolf of Wall Street

Michael Fassbender for 12 Years a Slave

Jared Leto for Dallas Buyers Club

  Who Should Win:  Wow, another tough acting category call to make, but my personal preference here is Barkhad Abdi from Captain Phillips.  Certainly, Tom Hanks (who, surprisingly, didn’t get nominated for his turn here) is the face of this movie, as it is about his story of survival, but the way the film dichotomized his struggle with that of the lead Somali pirate, as played by Abdi, made the overarching narrative that much more complete and thought-provoking.  Abdi did a great job of showing him and his fellow pirates just as much as victims of circumstance as they were criminals in a way that really surprised and affected me.  In a way, the battle in this movie between Hanks and Abdi is like a classic cinematic clash between good and evil, but here, there’s more of a gray area, with these two people who are in a terrible situation that won’t allow both of them to come out alive.  Honestly, this movie could have been simply on the side of Captain Phillips (and it still could have worked), but director Paul Greengrass’s ambition to explore both sides’ struggles was admirable and Abdi was more than able to deliver on that.      

  Who Will Win:  I think Jared Leto has this one.  Just like his fellow Dallas Buyers Club cast member, Matthew McConaughey, Leto also made a physical transformation as the transsexual Rayon, while also elevating the effectiveness of the film he was in and making his character into a truly complete and tragic figure for whom we have sympathy for due to the characterization and not because the movie’s begging us to.  Basically, like McConaughey’s role, Leto’s turn here the perfect intersection of a physical transformation and a performance that elevates it above acting stuntwork, as well as one with cultural importance, so I say he has it.

Best Supporting Actress

  Sally Hawkins for Blue Jasmine

Julia Roberts for August: Osage County

Lupita Nyong'o for 12 Years a Slave

Jennifer Lawrence for American Hustle

June Squibb for Nebraska

  Who Should Win: This is a pretty easy call for me.  Lupita Nyong'o brought so much heartbreaking authenticity and depth to her role in 12 Years a Slave that it’s hard to imagine the film without her.  To be fair, you could say that about most of the cast in this film, who also turned in strong performances, but the tragedy of Nyong'o’s arc is unique and she does a great job of modulating every emotion of this damaged and battered woman, both internally and externally, and to me, she’s the clear choice here.  As far as the other nominees, they’re all from films I didn’t like, though I did like Sally Hawkins in Blue Jasmine the most of the remaining four.  On the other hand, there’s something wrong that Hawkins got nominated for that letdown while not getting any Oscar attention for her seminal turn in Mike Leigh’s Happy Go Lucky.  But that distracts from the real star here; Lupita Nyong'o, who deserves this win.

  Who Will Win: Lupita Nyong'o was my easy choice of who should win and I think she will win, too.  When American Hustle came out, most people thought Jennifer Lawrence had this award in the bag, but that talk has since fizzled (and good thing, too; I think she was over the top and shrill in that movie) and, of the remaining nominees, only Nyong'o is still being discussed.  Also, of all the films with nominated performances here, 12 Years A Slave is the only one that seems to be remembered (which is appropriate, given its superiority to the others), so Lupita Nyong'o will win. 

  Best Director

  Alfonso Cuarón for Gravity

Steve McQueen for 12 Years a Slave

David O. Russell for American Hustle

Martin Scorsese for The Wolf of Wall Street

Alexander Payne for Nebraska

  What Should Win:  Since Spike Jonze isn’t nominated here for Her, I have pick someone else for best director.  It comes down to Steve McQueen and Alfonso Cuarón for me here and, although McQueen certainly did a fantastic job of transporting us to the harsh Antebellum South in 12 Years A Slave, I’m giving the sight nod to Cuarón here for Gravity.  It’s really a tough call (and, if Cuaron doesn’t win, McQueen better win, since the others really didn’t bring their A game to their latest efforts), but the immersion that Cuarón made us feel during Gravity was quite amazing, both in terms of its minimalist, but still effective narrative and its awe-inspiring formal elements.  Even more than 12 Years A Slave, Gravity is one of those movies that constantly has you saying “how’d the director do that?” even for people who follow films and filmmaking closely.  That, and I preferred Gravity as film to 12 Years A Slave (but not by much), so I’d pick Cuarón here.

  Who Will Win: Alfonso Cuarón.  As wonderfully artistic and assured as Steve McQueen’s direction of 12 Years A Slave was (and I’m certainly glad he’s finally being credited for his work, seeing as his last film, Shame, was ignored), the visual accomplishments of Gravity have been heralded since it opened in October and the sweep and scope of his outer space epic is, by its very nature, more vast than even the Antebellum South of McQueen’s film.  That, and since I said Gravity would win Best Picture and the Best Picture and Best Director often go hand in hand,  Gravity will probably take this one, too.

   Best Original Screenplay

  American Hustle: Eric Singer, David O. Russell

Blue Jasmine: Woody Allen

Her: Spike Jonze

Nebraska: Bob Nelson

Dallas Buyers Club: Craig Borten, Melisa Wallack

  What Should Win: Since Spike Jonze didn’t get up for directing Her and since that’s my best picture choice, it goes without saying that he’s who I’d pick as the winner.  The authenticity and intelligence of this script is unparalleled by any of the other nominees, especially when you consider how this story is a far more difficult one to tell.  In lesser hands, we’d probably think that the idea of a man falling in love with his computer was creepy and unbelievable, but thanks to Jonze, we never feel that way.  This screenplay also has the edge for me because it’s the funniest of the year, too, especially in those scenes involving video games.  Seriously, I don’t think I’ll be able to play Cooking Mama, Diner Dash or any Xbox 360 or Xbox One Kinect game again without thinking about their achingly hilarious parallel versions here.

  What Will Win:  I want Her to win an Oscar and it actually will?  What is this madness?  Well, I feel that Her has shown staying power, despite not being a huge box office success, and because of that, I feel the Academy will spread the love to it here.  Also, its only competition has been knocked out, I feel, due to diminishing Oscar buzz (for American Hustle) and a nasty and unable to be ignored sex scandal involving the writer (Blue Jasmine), so, much to my delight, Spike Jonze will take this one.

  Best Adapted Screenplay

  Before Midnight: Richard Linklater

Captain Phillips: Billy Ray

12 Years a Slave: John Ridley

The Wolf of Wall Street: Terence Winter

Philomena: Steve Coogan, Jeff Pope

  What Should Win: I haven’t seen Before Midnight yet (and I don’t feel like I should yet, especially having not yet seen Before Sunrise and Before Sunset), so I can’t say how Richard Linklater’s script fares here, but even with that caveat, I feel confident holding up John Ridley’s script for 12 Years A Slave.  The level of authenticity that Ridley brings to the tale of Solomon Northrup, as well as the perfect modulation between emotions for each scene, is quite something.  In addition, I feel as if he was very shrewd and clever by knowing exactly how to handle the harsh slavery subject matter to achieve maximum effect on the audience.  Specifically, Ridley doesn’t go for the easy lectures about how horrible slavery was (because that goes without saying), but he lets the horrors we see speak for themselves and the real and complex figures involved which, especially in the case of the slaveowners, makes the situations even more believable and horrifying.  We feel that we’re watching real people do these shameful things and that we’re watching real people suffer, as a result, and that’s why the movie is as good and resonant as it is, as well as why I’m picking Ridley for this one.

  What Will Win:  The Wolf Of Wall Street’s script is a dark horse here, but something tells me that the strength of 12 Years A Slave (as explained above), as well as its continued visibility on the Oscar beat, is going to take it and writer John Ridley to victory.

Best Animated Film

The Croods

Despicable Me 2

Ernest & Celestine

Frozen

The Wind Rises

  What Should Win:  Listen, my opinion here doesn’t really mean anything, as the Who Should Win section will clearly explain and I haven’t seen Ernest & Celestine yet (it opened in New York and LA yesterday and is supposed to expand later in March), but I’m not going to say Frozen here.  Don’t get me wrong; it’s a really good film, but it’s kept from being a complete triumph in my eyes due to some emotional inertness and story construction issues (especially the big plot twist, which, despite being a genuine surprise to me, felt like it was unearned, came out of nowhere and felt designed to be a plot twist just for the sake of having one).  My pick is The Wind Rises here though, to be honest, it’s kind of an unfair fight between these two completely different styled animated films.  On the other hand, there’s only one small flaw I can think of in Hayao Miyazaki’s supposedly final film, compared to more and more noticeable ones in Frozen and, in my review of The Wind Rises, I said I could write a book explaining all the things that are great in the film and why they’re so great.  That latter point, I think, speaks volumes for The Wind Rises, so I’m choosing that.

  What Will Win:  To say Frozen will win is not just blatantly obvious, but the easiest call of the night to make.  Some may argue that The Wind Rises, which is apparently going to be Hayao Miyazaki’s last movie (though also he said that after Princess Mononoke and Howl’s Moving Castle), may get it on sympathy grounds, but we tend not to play that card on non-Americans at the Oscars, except in the short, documentary and/or foreign film categories (and even then, it’s a stretch).  So Frozen will win.

Best Foreign Film

  The Broken Circle Breakdown

The Missing Picture

The Hunt

The Great Beauty

Omar

  What Should Win: Unlike last year, where I abdicated this duty for basically every category, I have a simple good excuse for doing it in the foreign film category this year; I haven’t seen any of these films.  But can you blame me? None of these movies haven’t opened around where I live (and I get theater access to some foreign films, including the much discussed and debated Blue Is The Warmest Color, which I didn’t get around to seeing yet) and, I think, many of them aren’t even out in the US yet. I hope to check them out when they come around, though, and despite not seeing any of them, I’m still going to hazard a guess to which one will win…

  What Will Win:  Hazarding a guess is the right term for saying what will win because, honestly, I have no idea which one.  Also, I’m not really that familiar with the nominated films themselves, despite being such a close film follower.  I’m going to guess The Hunt, because I kind of have heard things about it being strong and lots of respect for its director, Thomas Vinterberg, who works in the dogma cinema scene, ala Lars Von Trier, but we’ll see if I end up right tonight, because I could be wrong.

Best Cinematography

  Gravity

Inside Llewyn Davis

Nebraska

Prisoners

The Grandmaster

  What Should Win:  This one’s so hard for me.  I love the cinematography of Gravity and Inside Llewyn Davis so much that I’m struggling to pick just one (Nebraska’s is overrated, as is the film it belongs to, and I haven’t seen the other two films).  Part of me wants Inside Llewyn Davis to win because it was so effectively absorbing and exhilarating, as well as because I’d like to see this mostly snubbed masterpiece win something.  But, on the other hand, I love Gravity’s cinematography for achieving the same in service of its unique cinematic goals.  Picking between these two is like choosing which child is your favorite and sadly, I have to make that call here.  Maybe it’s because Inside Llewyn Davis didn’t get much nomination love, because I want people to see it and because Gravity’s gonna win here anyway (which kind of makes writing the Who Should Win section redundant now), but I’m giving the razor-thin edge to the Coen Brothers’ film here.  I just love the atmosphere and feel for early 1960s Greenwich Village and Chicago that’s captured in its cinematography, as well as some hauntingly bleak and beautiful (and in some cases, hauntingly and beautifully grotesque) looks at the Central American countryside.  And hey, any movie that can take the simple concept of caring for a neighbor’s cat and turn into exhilarating cinema (both visually and, to the credit of directors Joel and Ethan Coen, formally) is certainly doing something very right and very special.

  What Will Win: As I said in What Should Win, it’s Gravity all the way here, and it will be deserved, despite my slight preference for Inside Llewyn Davis. 

Best Editing

  12 Years a Slave

American Hustle

Gravity

Captain Phillips

Dallas Buyers Club

  What Should Win: Gravity.  It’s a pretty easy call, I’d say, despite the others being quite good (and, if Gravity somehow doesn’t get it, 12 Years A Slave better win, especially since it didn’t get up for its great cinematography).  What Cuaron and Sanger did with Gravity was quite astounding, starting right at the beginning with that unbroken 9 minute shot.  This is a film that knows just when and where to transition and every scene in this film flows so beautifully in way that’s exciting to see, while also not being painfully obvious about how ambitious it is.  Yet, it certainly is ambitious and brave of Cuaron and Sanger to keep extending their patient and confident editing style in their films post-Children Of Men (which also was amazingly edited) and have faith that even mass audiences will be impressed and enraptured in their technique which, in this case, it seems as if they are (and hopefully, it’ll spur interest in seeking out Children Of Men and other past Cuaron films to see their similar approaches also executed beautifully).

  What Will Win: It’s even easier to say that Gravity will win this award that to say it should, and that’ll be a nice sight to witness on Oscar night.

Best Production Design

  12 Years a Slave

American Hustle

Gravity

The Great Gatsby

Her

  What Should Win: Maybe it’s because it’s my best film of the year, but I’d like to see Her take this one.  Aside from Gatsby (which I didn’t see yet), the others did their jobs quite well, but Her’s use of color and light, as well as its seamless mixture of Los Angeles and Shanghai location shooting, made me believe that I was living in a real world that is only slightly more futuristic than the one we live in now.  By that, I mean that I can totally see the world looking and feeling like this 10 or so years down the road, which further enhances the emotions of the film and perfectly dovetails with its story of the emotionally fragile Theo finding happiness and life through a relationship with his female operating system, Samantha (a concept that isn’t totally alien in current day, when you think about it).  I don’t want to beat up on the other films, because 12 Years A Slave, Gravity and American Hustle did a great job of capturing the feel of the Antebellum South, outer space, and 1970s New York and New Jersey, respectively, but Her slightly edges them out to be my personal favorite.

  What Will Win:  Honestly, this could go many ways, but my gut tells me 12 Years A Slave wins here.  Despite my love for Her’s production design, Steve McQueen’s biopic about the once free and then enslaved Solomon Northrup would still be a worthy winner.  It has such a great immersion and attention to detail that I could almost feel the burning hot sun on the plantations in the movie beaming down on me and making me feel exhausted (though perhaps that feeling was also helped by my being in a completely packed theater when I went to see it).  In the perspective of the Academy, I feel that the historical significance of this movie and the authenticity of its design will help it win, so that’s why it’s my prediction.

Best Costume Design

  American Hustle

The Great Gatsby

12 Years a Slave

The Grandmaster

The Invisible Woman

  What Should Win: I’ve only seen two of the nominees here, so I’m not really qualified to make a personal preference call here.  Still, out of American Hustle and 12 Years A Slave, I was more impressed by the costumes in Steve McQueen’s film.  Like most everything else in the film, it feels authentic to the period and setting and the designs for them are meticulously detailed in a way that enhances the already strong immersion factor of the film.  American Hustle’s costumes do their duty, too and seem authentically 70s, but they didn’t really help bring me into a movie that I felt was kind of empty to begin with.  So, it’s 12 Years A Slave for me here.

  What Will Win: I said last year that the Academy seems to love to give period films this award and, though I guessed wrong last year, we have pretty much every film up this year being a period piece, so my idea is more valid this time around.  I think that 12 Years A Slave, which I’d pick, is the one that will also win, for the reason of its authenticity.

  Best Makeup/Hairstyling

  Dallas Buyers Club

Bad Grandpa

The Lone Ranger

  What Should Win: God, this category is always a crazy one.  As I always have to mention when discussing it, only in this category could Norbit get a nomination over the far more striking makeup in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street (and if I don’t remind you of that every year I do this Oscar thing, assume something terrible has happened to me) and this year, we get two other, shall we say, unexpected nominees, in Bad Grandpa and The Lone Ranger.  Neither film is as noxious as or as offensive for their nomination as Norbit was, but both are clearly being nominated for only one element of their makeup (Johnny Knoxville as an old man and Johnny Depp as a Native American, respectively), which seems a bit cheap to me.  Dallas Buyers Club wasn’t too much different in that way, but I felt its creation of the emaciated looks of Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto’s AIDS patients via the makeup was far more involved.  Also, the way the film contrasts Leto and McConaughey with the healthier characters in the film (most noticeably, Jennifer Garner) creates a greater impression of just how much they’re suffering (and as I said before, their acting also helps us feel for them, too).  Because of that, as well as the fact that Dallas Buyers Club is the only good movie here, it’s my clear choice.  

  What Will Win: Dallas Buyers Club, for everything I said above.

Best Original Score

  The Book Thief: John Williams

Gravity: Steven Price

Her: William Butler, Andy Koyama

Saving Mr. Banks: Thomas Newman

Philomena: Alexandre Desplat

  What Should Win:  Haven’t seen The Book Thief, so I can’t comment on that one’s score, but for me, I loved the music for Her.  It was done by Andy Koyama and, from Arcade Fire, William Butler, and it really captured the mood of that movie perfectly, while also being enjoyable to listen to on its own.  As for the others, the music for Gravity and Saving Mr. Banks did their jobs well (with Steven Price doing Gravity a bit more justice), while Alexandre Desplat hit a rare sour note with his derivative and shockingly intrusive score with Philomena, so once again, it’s Her all the way for me.

  What Will Win:  I think Gravity will take this.  Yes, Desplat still hasn’t won one yet, but giving it to him for Philomena would be a massive mistake, and the film isn’t getting nearly enough attention for them to spread the love to it in a lesser category.  Same goes for the other nominees, including (albeit to a lesser extent) Her and because of that, and the booming and triumphant aura that comes off of Gravity’s music (which I get the sense the Academy likes) Gravity will win.

Best Original Song

  Despicable Me 2: Pharrell Williams ("Happy")

Frozen: Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Robert Lopez ("Let It Go")

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom: Bono, Adam Clayton, The Edge, Larry Mullen Jr., Brian Burton ("Ordinary Love")

Her: Karen O ("The Moon Song")

  What Should Win:  Alone Yet Not Alone.  Oh wait, that one was disqualified?  Yes, the person behind it actively campaigned to get it nominated… which seems exactly like what Harvey Weinstein does every year (and that’s probably the only reason the overrated Philomena got as much Oscar attention as it did).  But honestly, it “never bothered me anyway,” because I’ve been calling Let It Go the Best Original Song of 2013 since I saw Frozen last December, and that hasn’t changed.  The others are pretty good, and I’m glad The Moon Song from Her got noticed, but Let It Go deserves to win… especially since it was robbed of the same honor at the Golden Globes.

  What Will Win:  Before the Golden Globes, I was holding up Let It Go as the only possible winner in this category in the way many others have held up Cate Blanchett as the only possible winner for Best Actress.  But then Let It Go didn’t win at the Globes, which means that it’s now, technically, a two song race between it and the song that won that prize; U2’s Ordinary Love from Mandela: Long Walk To Freedom.  For a while, I felt the Oscars would follow suit, what with how respected U2’s frontman, Bono, is in the humanitarian field and also perhaps as a way to honor the even more respected humanitarian, Nelson Mandela, the subject of the movie the song came from who died a few weeks after its release.  But now, given the legs that Frozen has shown (which far exceeded my predictions of its success, even after seeing it) and the fact that its music has been officially validated as great via its cinematic rerelease in a sing along version, I say that Frozen officially has this win now.  And if it somehow loses, there will be outrage, and not just from me.

Best Sound Mixing

  Gravity

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

Captain Phillips

Inside Llewyn Davis

Lone Survivor

  What Should Win:  These sound categories can sometimes be confusing to separate, but as far as I can tell, the sound mixing is basically a reflection of how well the sound team takes all the audio that they’re recording (or otherwise implementing) and puts it all together to achieve the respective atmospheric goals of the movie.  By that standard, I don’t know why All Is Lost, the best sounding film of 2013, didn’t get up for this, along with the sound editing nod it got, but since it didn’t, I’d pick Gravity.  Yes, I loved the sound design in Inside Llewyn Davis (especially the fantastic music, at least one of which should have gotten up for Best Song), but the mixing of Gravity’s sound was completely engrossing and brought you into that world in a way none of the other nominees could (despite them all doing a good job).  Also, Gravity pulled off a neat trick of being as impressive and impactful with its sound when it doesn’t use it as when it does, so bravo there, too.

  What Will Win: Is it a technical award? Then, Gravity wins it, and I can’t argue with that here.     

Best Sound Editing

  All Is Lost

Captain Phillips

Gravity

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

Lone Survivor

  What Should Win:  The sound editing, again, from what I can discern, is a reflection of how the audio made and/or used for a film is put together to make it sound natural or in keeping with how the film wants to make us react to scenes, situations and/or the whole movie based on the sounds we hear.  As I said for the Sound Mixing category, I think All Is Lost had the best audio of any movie from last year, and since it actually got up for this award, it’s my clear preference.  Much has been said about the filmmaking and Robert Redford’s surprisingly not nominated performance engrossing us in this minimalistic tale of nautical survival, but as impressive as those elements were, it was the sound that really sealed the deal for me.  I felt like I was on that boat and on those seas because of the expert manipulation of the sounds, making them sound completely authentic and utilizing the surround sound so perfectly, that I found myself leaning forward in my seat and saying to myself “what’s that?!” every time I heard a simple creak of the boat or crashing of a wave.  The other films’ sound editing were nothing to slouch at (except Lone Survivor, since I haven’t seen it yet), but All Is Lost’s truly resonated.

  What Will Win: As I said before, if it’s a technical award, Gravity already has it, but this category, as I explained above, is the only one that I’d rather it not win.  I won’t mad when it does, but I hope it doesn’t make people forget to see All Is Lost and soak up its aural goodness.  On the other hand, if this ends up a tie between the two films like last year, when Skyfall and my clear choice, Zero Dark Thirty, shared the prize, my worry will be effectively erased.

Best Visual Effects

  Gravity

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

Iron Man 3

The Lone Ranger

Star Trek Into Darkness

  What Should Win: Despite not having seen Iron Man 3 and Star Trek Into Darkness, I feel safe in saying neither will top Gravity here.  My justification for it winning all these technical honors is pretty easy to copy-paste into each category I want it to win for, as they all come together to take the audience into outer space in an authentic way that most of us will never be able to (or, perhaps after this movie, never want to) experience in real life.  As far as The Hobbit 2 and The Lone Ranger are concerned, I’ve pretty much forgotten about both movies (and it’s been less than a week since I saw the latter), so I don’t remember their visual effects.  Gravity, on the other hand, I remember today as vividly as I did when I saw it on opening day last October, and that says it all.

  What Will Win: Read my “What Should Win” section again.  It also applies to why Gravity will win, as does the fact that this is another technical award the film is nominated for.

Best Documentary

  The Act of Killing

Cutie and the Boxer

Dirty Wars

The Square

20 Feet from Stardom

  What Should Win: Like the foreign film category, I haven’t seen any of the nominees, so I can’t say which one should win.  However, unlike for foreign film, I’ve been neglectful with documentaries, seeing as I do have access to The Act Of Killing (it’s on Netflix Instant) and 20 Feet From Stardom was in a local indie theater (the same one that got Blue Is The Warmest Color), but I haven’t seen them as of yet.  I certainly will check them out soon, but for now, you’re not getting a judgment call from me here; sorry.

  What Will Win:  OK, so I can’t and won’t say which documentary wins this award, but I can and will say which one’s taking the prize home tonight.  That film is The Act Of Killing, which is the most visible of the nominated films and also, has the social consciousness factor on its side.  Yes, I know I used the latter idea to wrongly predict that How To Survive A Plague would win this award last year (it instead went to the only one I saw last year; the excellent Searching For Sugar Man), but I think that this year, that concept will be realized, as will The Act Of Killing winning this award. 

Best Documentary Short

  Cavedigger

Facing Fear

Karama Has No Walls

The Lady In Number 6

Prison Terminal: The Last Days of Private Jack Hall

  What Should Win: Finally, we’re at the crapshoot awards; the short subjects.  I have nothing against the people who pour their hearts out to make their short subjects, but sadly, I haven’t seen the nominees here and am rarely able to.  Same goes here for the Documentary Short, so I can’t say which one should win.

  What Will Win: I don’t know, but I must hazard a guess, and I’ll say… The Lady In Number 6.

Best Animated Short

  Feral

Get a Horse!

Mr Hublot

Possessions

Room on the Broom

  What Should Win:  Of the short subjects, I saw two of them; Get A Horse (which played before Frozen) and Room On The Broom (based on the children’s picture book of the same name).  The reflexive nature of Get A Horse and its mixture of classic Disney animation and newer animation was clever, but I preferred Room On The Broom a little bit more.  It’s really charming, has good voice work and has nice CG animation that has a more hand-made feel to it in terms of its look, as well as movement that calls to mind stop-motion Claymation animation, such as the Wallace and Gromit shorts (and the kind of knowing attitude of the short itself is reminiscent of Nick Park’s works).  

  What Will Win: Given the Disney connection to Get A Horse and its mix of an old black-and-white Disney cartoon with newer sensibilities, I think that may appeal to Oscar voters as a nice throwback, much in the way The Artist won Best Picture a few years ago.  So, I say that Get A Horse gets it.

Best Live Action Short

  Aquel no era yo

Just Before Losing Everything

Helium

Do I Have to Take Care of Everything?

The Voorman Problem

  What Should Win: Sorry, I haven’t seen any of them, so I can’t say.

  What Will Win: If it’s a crapshoot award for films I haven’t seen and am not familiar with, to make a call, I either follow what I’ve heard or go to the dart board to decide.  I’m doing the latter here and Just Before Losing Everything was hit.  OK, I’m kidding, but that one sounds like the kind of personal and inspirational story of downtrodden people rising about their troubles that is often preferred in this category, so I’m picking that.

Usually, film people do their best and worst of lists right as the year ends, but for 2013, it took me until its Oscar weekend to get mine out, and even then, it’s tentative, given some films I haven’t seen. I say that more for the worst of list, since I saw all the Oscar nominees and many of the most celebrated films that came out last year.  My best of list will come later, though, because I’m starting off with the year’s lowlights.

Like in 2012, I haven’t yet caught some of the most despised films of 2013 (like Grown-Ups 2, The Host and InAPPropriate Comedy, but I will subject myself to them in time), but I like the 8 that I came up with.  Yes, I’m not doing 10 like everyone else, mainly because these are the only ones that were truly bad enough to deserve scorn and that still continue to make me angry.  Most of the other movies I didn’t like were merely mediocre and forgettable, like Bad Grandpa and The Lone Ranger or extremely overrated, like The Wolf Of Wall Street, Blue Jasmine, and Nebraska (though I sure hate that one’s rotten attitude), but none of them really deserved to be dragged through the mud.  The following films, however, deserved that treatment and worse:

1. Only God Forgives

Unless you’re as huge a movie buff as I am, chances are quite good you’ve never heard of this low-budget art-house film and you may be wondering why I’m calling this the worst of 2013 over other more visible and lazy bad films that you’re more likely to see (like The Hangover 3, Anchorman 2 and, despite not having yet seen it, Grown-Ups 2).  It’s simple; despite this movie’s intentions and pretentions to mean more than the other bad movies I saw this year, it’s just as meaningless as those lazier efforts and it’s even more horrible and offensive given the talent involved and how needlessly violated it made me feel.

This is Nicolas Winding Refn’s follow-up to the excellent Drive (which I had at #8 on my 10 Best List in 2011, but after this film, I now want to reevaluate Drive to ensure I wasn’t wearing beer googles the first time) and I can’t think of a more dramatic fall from grace for a director in recent film history.  Like Drive, this one’s something a fusion of a Western and a revenge picture, but this one’s also influenced by the extreme and twisted subject matter of a Takashi Miike film and the surrealistic imagery and social commentary of an Alejandro Jodorowsky film, the latter of whom Refn dedicated this to.  All fine and good, but, like all the worst art-house and independent films you can think of, this is one of those movies that’s imitating these great talents to make a hip and arty statement, yet it’s saying nothing and it shows absolutely no understanding of why the films of its inspirations were worthy of praise.  For example, Miike’s Audition is not a great movie because of the depraved directions it goes in, but because of how it’s executed and what it says about the darkest sides of the human condition.  Same goes for Jodorowsky’s The Holy Mountain; it’s not great just because it has a scene with frogs reenacting The Conquest of Mexico, but because there’s an even more poignant and intriguing core underneath its bizarre crust.

Only God Forgives has nothing underneath its flashy exterior.  It’s an unbelievably boring and endless film with wooden and degrading performances, even from people you’d expect to rise above it (like Kristin Scott Thomas and Ryan Gosling, the latter of whom, no wonder, took a break from acting after, but not necessarily because, this came out), simplistic writing, and violent scenes so gratuitous, needless and vile that I actually looked away from the screen in disgust.  That last statement means something coming from me, given some of the extreme movies I’ve seen (and, in some cases, have loved), as does this statement; Only God Forgives is a cinematic obscenity that I regret having seen, which is more than enough to justify it as my worst film of 2013.

  2. The Fifth Estate 

Outside of 12 Years A Slave (which opened the same weekend this movie did on 15 screens and made almost as much money as this did on 1500), 2013 was not a great year for Benedict Cumberbatch at the movies and The Fifth Estate, which was his biggest role all year, was easily the worst.  And honestly, this film shouldn’t have turned out this way; given the world we live in now, run by hypocrites who preach about complete transparency and writing past wrongs on data collection and then, proceeded to act contrary to those statements once in office, this biopic about WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange should have been a very timely, thought-provoking, complex and urgent look at this subject and the issues connected to it (the key words being “should have been”).

If you made (or make) the mistake of seeing this, you’ll realize just how much this film is going to misfire right at the opening credits, where director Bill Condon (Dreamgirls and the two Breaking Dawn films) intrusively pumps up the style to create visual and aural excitement for this story of rogue computer geniuses, ala The Social Network while, surprise surprise, completely missing the point of why it worked in David Fincher’s great film.  This one’s just disorienting, distracting, irritating, headache-inducing (both from the quick camera work and the stock, thumping techno score), doesn’t make this already interminable film feel like it’s moving any faster and, worst of all, doesn’t meld with or enhance the narrative content at all.

OK, so stylistically, the movie’s lost, and sadly, it’s even more adrift with its narrative content.  The perspective on Assange is unbelievably slap-dash and surface, telling us nothing new about him, telling us what we already know in a muddled and unsatisfying fashion and, despite trotting out every single aggravating and overplayed biopic cliché in the book, giving us no better understanding of his psyche to try and help us understand the moral paradoxes of what he’s doing.  To be fair, the movie is attempting to get inside him, but the attempts are embarrassing and lazy, particularly regarding its shameless symbolism and use of the old “closeted homosexual/autistic as an explanation” chestnut. 

The acting doesn’t help here either, as all the characters’ motivations are turned on and off as the plot needs them and, seeing how the movie isn’t helping the stars out, their performances come off as impersonation contests by people who, with all due respect, aren’t good enough actors here to elevate the material on their own (unlike, say, the cast of Dallas Buyers Club, who did just that in that film).  The best part of the movie comes during the credits where, aside from the fact that the pain is over, the film has a mock interview with Assange (still being played by Cumberbatch), where he says that the movie you just watched is completely worthless and doesn’t know what it’s talking about.  No argument here.

3. Movie 43

OK, having this already infamous and star-studded sketch comedy movie on my worst of 2013 list is just too easy, but Movie 43 does need to be dealt with, because this mostly unfunny, mean and crude comedy is definitely the year’s biggest waste of talent, and there’s a lot of talented people involved here.  And yet, the film has a good idea behind it; have a sketch comedy film with massive stars surrounded by a framing device that’s basically saying that Hollywood will make any piece of junk nowadays (and hinting that people will go see it anyway because of the talent involved, as apparently proven by Grown-Ups 2 most recently)?  Sounds great; too bad it fails completely, not to mention the fact that Robert Altman beat it to the punch with his seminal The Player over 20 years ago.

The framing device tells the story of a guy played by Dennis Quaid, who’s pitching a deliberately tasteless, racist and politically incorrect sketch comedy movie to Greg Kinnear’s studio exec in increasingly desperate fashion.  In between, we see the proposed comedy ideas brought to us in sketches starring Hugh Jackman, Kate Winslet, Halle Berry, Richard Gere, Common, Seth MacFarlane, Emma Stone, Kieran Culkin, Kristen Bell, Naomi Watts, Elizabeth Banks, Liev Schreiber, Josh Duhamel, Terrance Howard, Gerard Butler, Sean William Scott, Uma Thurman, the guy who voiced Brock from Pokemon (seriously) and many more.  Wow, how’d all these people sign on to this?  Well, according to the film’s brainchild, Peter Farrelly (director isn’t quite right a term here, seeing as the sketches have their own directors), it took 7 years of orchestration to get them involved and sadly, the full story of that is funnier and more interesting than most anything in the movie.

I’ll give Movie 43 this; it has its moments of subversive inspiration, namely, some of the riffs on the sexual myths and stereotyping of famous comic characters in the superhero dating skit (though Kevin Smith did it earlier and better in films like Chasing Amy) and the save the impoverished children-style commercial about kids running copy machines and other devices that we often get frustrated with.  But those are the only good things; everything else is aggressively pushy, offensive and not funny, and outside of that, the film is boring, repetitive and feels slapped together, kind of like the Epic/Date/Superhero Movie kinds of parody films, which is actually something of an insult to those movies.  And just when you think the movie is over, you get credits to a skit named Beezel, directed by James Gunn, that was never in the movie and after you say, “wait, did I miss that?,” you see the film’s worst and most repulsive and unfunny skit (which also packs cinema’s worst mix of live-action and animation) and you’ll wish that the first set of credits wasn’t a fake-out.

Given how immediate the negative response to this film was, it’ll probably go down in history as one of the most infamous Hollywood films in recent years, alongside films like Alexander, Catwoman and Showgirls.  But I think that’s more because of the talent on display here and honestly, as bad as this movie is, it isn’t worth it even with that mindset, as the aforementioned films are more interestingly and entertainingly bad/funny than this.  And again, if you want a more effective middle finger to Hollywood, again, check out The Player.

  4. The Hangover Part 3

The Hangover is one of those modern comedies whose brilliance eluded me (because I didn’t think there was any brilliance there), but it was beloved and popular enough to get two sequels and, after these films, I bet even some of the series’ fans are starting to turn my way.  Part 2 was my worst film of 2011 and a film whose $300 million success says some pretty horrible things about us as a country (probably the worst being that we basically condone rank racism when Asians are the targets, which would never be OK with any other ethnic/religious group/culture), and now we get this third one, which is, admittingly, a massive upgrade over 2, but that’s not saying much and, even more than that film, there’s no reason for this one to exist, a fact that’s actually more reprehensible than the movie itself.

Still, there’s something to be said that #3 isn’t just recycling the original’s plot again; after Alan’s father dies, the characters and film finally realize that Alan should be institutionalized (why they didn’t get that in Part 2 is beyond me), but the attempt to lock him away is interrupted when the Wolf Pack is caught by a man who claims that Chow stole his gold and it’s up to them to get it back, or they’ll kill Doug, who is taken hostage (hey, they gotta keep Justin Bartha off-screen in these movies somehow, right?).  Also positive is the fact that the film is mercifully short and it’s not quite as offensive and hateful as the last one.  But I was hoping to be able to say that this one is actually funny and/or interesting, and it’s neither. 

The film’s darker direction is ambitious on paper, but in practice, it’s poorly executed in its dramatic, comedic or action-packed ambitions, I had no interest or care in any of the characters or scenarios, the film’s attempt to inject some clichéd pathos in regarding these characters is insulting and in no way ironic (yeah, like I’m going to start liking or caring about these repulsive, shrill, offensive and stereotypical people, namely Alan and especially Chow) and the film’s “hip” and “edgy” pot shots at people with mental illness is quite cruel (especially towards Melissa McCarthy).  Perhaps worse, this movie is so unbelievably in love with itself and the series it’s a part of that it has no concern in providing an entry point to newcomers.  So basically, you’ll need to have seen the other two awful Hangover films to understand anything here and, if you haven’t (or even if you have), the most you’ll get out of this is how gratuitously self-congratulatory it all is and, to me, this film and the people involved have nothing to be proud of, either here or in any of the other films in the franchise.

The best thing about this movie is that there’s no chance we’ll be seeing another Hangover film after this, because this one’s been advertised as the conclusion of this series and, more importantly, America finally woke up and rejected this film and, by extension, the entire Hangover enterprise.  Well, better late than never, I guess.

5. Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues

To me, Anchorman: The Legend Of Ron Burgundy was a terrible movie.  Yes, many say it’s a quotable classic, but I say it’s an unfunny, slapdash and glorified Saturday Night Live sketch movie that cynically and conveniently attempted to justify its rampant sexism by claiming to be a 1970s period piece, while not even trying to commit to being one.  Despite that, I gave its sequel, Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues, a chance, in the hopes that this would be like Despicable Me 2, where the sequel would be better than and recommendable over the original.  Well, Anchorman 2 is better than the first one, but not enough that it’s worth subjecting yourself to it.

At the very least, this movie actually cares a little more about capturing its 80s time-period (it takes until the film’s halfway over, but at least it does it eventually) and, more importantly, it actually explores the one thing that the first film introduced in its opening 5 minutes and swiftly abandoned; the concept of the changing landscape of American news.  That last point, in and of itself, could have made this a winner, but unfortunately, the film spends most of its time bombarding us with silly, cheap and “quotable" quips that are more designed to be repeatable than to, you know, make us laugh, and, when it does skewer cable news, the barbs and insights it has regarding it would be too flimsy, shallow and simplistic for a bad Saturday Night Live Weekend Update sketch, let alone a movie that plods and drags over a nearly endless 2 hours, three-quarters of which is basically a comedy wasteland.

Also, although the film drops the sexist angle of the first, it makes up for that with its frequently ugly and unfunny racism regarding its African American characters and its equally cheap and hateful attitude towards its mentally challenged characters (man, what is it with major 2013 comedies constantly ridiculing mental illness?). Even more offensive than that, though, is how shamelessly self-indulgent and cynical this movie is; apparently, it’s so aware that audiences loved the first movie and, apparently, loves these characters, that it doesn’t care (or think viewers will care) how terribly constructed it is.  Even for a silly comedy like this, you need a shred of consistency between scenes as they relate to the characters, their motivations and the plot, but this movie doesn’t think it does and it apparently thinks that we’ll allow director Adam McKay to have his cake and eat it too when he asks us to accept his late-movie attempts at pathos at face value (and it certainly can’t be intended as ironic, given the lack of laughs from them).

As I upload this, this movie is being re-released tomorrow as an R rated film with all the jokes changed around.  Basically, it sounds to me like they’re trying to make this movie over again, just like they did by suppressing the theatrical release of the original on DVD in favor of a less sexist and offensive (and actually, slightly better) director’s cut.  Maybe this new version will be better, but if introducing it isn’t an admission the original Anchorman 2 wasn’t good in the first place, I don’t know what is. 

  6.  August Osage County

Every year, I tend to see a movie that’s hyped like crazy through the Fall Oscar season and on the film festival circuit and, when it comes out, it comes off as nothing but Oscar bait that doesn’t deserve any accolades, but sometimes, gets some token nominations anyway.  Last year, Flight was my Exhibit A (yes, I know many thought it was an on-point depiction of alcoholism, but I’ll bet they probably didn’t see The Master, which really got it right), and this year, it’s August Osage County.  Given the pedigree of this film and the sheer number of talented actors involved, you’d think this scathing family drama couldn’t miss, but man, does it ever and you’d have to go back to Movie 43 to find a bigger waste of cinematic talent in 2013.

Based on the play by Tracy Letts and starring Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Chris Cooper, Abigail Breslin and Benedict Cumberbatch, among others, it tells the story of a messed-up family with hidden secrets that all come to pass when they all come together after a long while and, if that sounds familiar, you’re probably familiar with the works of Tennessee Williams and Edward Albee, who have explored similar themes in their plays, some of which were turned into movies (Cat On A Hot Tin Roof and Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, for example, were two great ones).  Also, despite sounding similar, Letts’ play was quite a success, winning a couple of Tony awards, so clearly there was something special about the original source material and it could have made for an interesting cinematic exploration of a bunch of mostly pretty horrible people.  But it doesn’t, and most of that blame has to fall onto director John Wells, who clearly is out of his depth here.

His direction is hacky, obvious and not friendly or helpful to the massive talents he got access to, making this story (and Letts’ script, written by him and cut down here by about an hour from the play) come off as an aggravatingly predictable, arch, hollow and obvious exercise in audience torture for its own sake,  sprinkled with seedy elements that make you feel uneasy for the wrong reasons (unlike, say, Killer Joe, another Letts’ play that became a great movie that knew exactly how to handle its even more shocking subject matter).  On top of that, I felt no rooting interest in these characters and there was a decided lack of complexity and/or humanity to them to make it so that, even if we don’t like them, we can still relate to and empathize with them. Despite all that, you’d think that this talented cast could have elevated the film above its faults, but with exception of Chris Cooper, Julianne Nicholson and Benedict Cumberbatch (despite him being miscast and struggling with his American accent), they really don’t, not even Julia Roberts or Meryl Streep who, insanely, both got Oscar nominations for this (and regarding Meryl Streep, no, it’s not deserved, as this is her worst performance since Mamma Mia and yes, I’m getting really sick of her getting undeservedly nominated for every damn thing she’s in).

Fortunately, the film was shut out of the Oscars aside from the two aforementioned injustices, so they apparently recognized that it wasn’t worthy of awards consideration.   And good thing, too, because it’d be hard to say with a straight face that this big Oscar hopeful dramatic project is worthy of adoration when one of its highlights is the inclusion of Billy Squier’s The Stroke on the soundtrack.

  7. Man Of Steel Superman flies again into the world of cinema to make up for Superman Returns, the lame 2006 film that I'm OK with for being mediocre, if only because its lameness served up the best and most deserving case of fanboy/fangirl poetic justice in recent film history (that would be because they evangelized it as a masterpiece before seeing it because Bryan Singer made it, while trashing X-Men 3: The Last Stand as a disaster before seeing it because Brett Ratner made it).  Speaking of redemption, enter Zack Snyder, who clearly needed it following his previous film, the smutty, exploitative and pretentious box-office bomb Sucker Punch.  Too bad, then, that the intersection of Superman and Snyder, Man Of Steel, ended up being another black mark on both subjects’ records (but I’d say Superman’ll survive this one better than Snyder, seeing how this is his 3rd mess in a row).

The idea behind Man Of Steel certainly is ambitious; take DC Comics’ icon of American idealism and exceptionalism and tell an origin story that explores darker elements of his being, starting with Clark Kent’s youth with his super powers and leading up to his early adult years, effectively capturing the spirit of the enterprise, while going in a unique direction.  That’s the approach Christopher Nolan took with the excellent Batman Begins and indeed, Nolan created this film’s story alongside David S. Goyer, who wrote all of Nolan’s Batman films, as well as this movie.  And fittingly, the early parts of this movie capture that idea well and showcase some good supporting performances (particularly Kevin Costner as Clark’s father), as well as the casting upgrades made to Clark/Superman by Henry Cavill and Lois Lane by Amy Adams.  Unfortunately, pretty much all the positives in this movie come early and will be lost as it drags on for what seems like an eternity. 

That’s because, despite the interesting early elements, the movie, on the whole, doesn’t have a story that involves you, it’s badly paced and the last hour or so is nothing but repetitive and mind-numbing action scenes that are more interested in showcasing the destruction that the special effects can create (as well as the heinously obvious and cynical attempts at product placement) than exciting the audience or tying into the story to make care.  And honestly, the destruction looks fine, but it’s way overdone, to the point where it stops looking cool and it comes off feeling downright sadistic in terms of how many things Superman can be slammed into and how many buildings can fall down on civilians screaming for help, injecting some clumsy and unearned 9/11 imagery into the mix.   And after that’s all over, you get a pathetic final 15 minutes that’s clearly setting up another movie, but raising massive questions of how it could work the way they’re hinting it will, especially since, apparently, most of the characters know Superman’s identity.

But that’s Zack Snyder’s hacky direction for you, which also gives us a needlessly jagged narrative structure, a tone that is almost unbearably serious all the time, and an overuse of quick cuts, shaky cam, obvious symbolism, and close-ups on the most mundane things.  And what would a Zack Snyder film be without rampant and sick misogyny?  You’d think he’d learned his lesson after Sucker Punch (or The Watchmen, for that matter), but all throughout this movie, it comes off as if it loves to watch its female characters suffering (and I’m shocked no one’s calling Snyder out on it).  Don’t believe me? The movie opens with that garbage, showing Superman’s mother screaming in agony (which he lovingly relishes on), then shows the only Krypton female consul member getting shot in the head and then shows Superman’s mother get thrown against a wall.  Why do I feel that he would have followed that up with a rape scene if this wasn’t a PG-13 rated Superman movie (maybe because he had rape scenes in his last two movies)?  I remember suggesting Synder clean up his woman problem for this movie when I reviewed Sucker Punch, so I’ll try again, extending that to his upcoming Batman/Superman movie, while also hoping that that one is better, as a whole.   

8. Don Jon OK, this is one of my biggest personal letdowns of 2013.  I’ve been a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s since he was on the excellent sitcom, 3rd Rock From The Sun, but when he made his acting mark in the movies, I really took notice.  His performance in The Lookout, in particular, made me realize just how gifted and versatile he is (and if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it) and, from there, he continued with a string of strong and varied performances in 500 Days Of Summer, The Dark Knight Rises and Lincoln.  Enter Don Jon, his writing and directorial debut and I was hoping he’d impress me with his insights and approaches like he did with his acting efforts.  Sadly, this is a confused, repetitive and messy debut.

Levitt stars here as Jon, a Catholic meathead, if you will, from Jersey who loves his family, working out to keep his body strong, his sleek sports car, his bartender job and of course, sex with women.  Well, kind of on that last one; he likes hitting on women and scoring one-night stands with them, but there are enough personal downsides to it for him that he actually gets more sexual satisfaction by masturbating to the women in his beloved internet porn. That might start to change, though, when he meets a girl named Barbara (Scarlett Johansson, who’s overdoing it here) who won’t go to bed with him right away, thinks that he should go back to school to make more of himself and, oh yeah, isn’t down with the whole porn thing.  

One of my favorite films in recent years is Shame, an uncompromising drama that’s also about a man obsessed with emotionless sex (in his case, with prostitutes) and pornography.  Don Jon is clearly more comedic than Steve McQueen’s 2011 masterpiece, but the problem is that, as a director and writer, Levitt doesn’t seem to know what he wants to say about this guy, his lifestyle or the people who surround him.  The film introduces angles regarding an awkward, older college classmate (played by Julianne Moore) with a hidden past, Jon’s relationship with Barbara, things about Jon’s parents and younger sister, and his porn addiction, but they don’t really amount to anything, and the jumps between tonal shifts often work at cross purposes.  That’s too bad, because he has some ideas here that could have worked as drama and/or comedy, such as the dichotomy between Jon loving porn and Barbara loving sappy slapped-together romantic comedies.  But without an attitude or follow-through with his ideas, the film ends up being a meaningless plodding misfire and renders even some interesting performances and authentic details moot.

Also, aside from Shame, there was a more effective mix of comedy and drama through the prism of sexual proclivities and attitudes released the week before this called Thanks For Sharing.  It’s more dramatic than this, but there are some effective comedic bits there, too and, although it’s not perfect, the film has a much better understanding of what it wants to say and accomplish (and that especially shines through in the subplots with musician P!nk and Josh Gad, the latter of whom I felt gave a complete and nomination worthy performance).  By comparison, Don Jon is immature and empty and I hope Levitt’s next film learns from this one’s mistakes.

So, the Oscars are coming up next week and, because I’m such a big movie fan, I’m certainly looking forward to it.  Unlike the past few years, though, I didn't see a whole lot of the major nominees in 2012 and actually, my record is so bad this year that that I've only seen three of the Best Picture nominees (Zero Dark Thirty, Argo and Beasts Of The Southern Wild, the latter of which has no business being up for the award), so my commentary on what should win is going to be limited.  That being said, I think I have a good idea of what will win in all of the 24 categories, and I'm here to lay my predictions out for each.  So, let's do it: 

Best Actor:

Daniel Day Lewis for Lincoln Denzel Washington for Flight Joaquin Phoenix for The Master Hugh Jackman for Les Miserables Bradley Cooper for Silver Linings Playbook 

Who Wins:  Daniel Day Lewis, in what is one of the two easiest calls of the night.  Seriously, he had this the minute that the critics said Lincoln was good (because its early trailers didn't inspire confidence, apparently), and no one else has a chance. 

Best Actress: 

Jessica Chastain for Zero Dark Thirty Jennifer Lawrence for Silver Linings Playbook Emmanuelle Riva for Amour Naomi Watts for The Impossible Quvenzhane Wallis for Beasts Of The Southern Wild

Who Should Win: Despite seeing only two of the performances here, I feel that Jessica Chastain’s performance in Zero Dark Thirty is more than worthy of the trophy and I feel confident that, even after I see The Impossible, Silver Linings Playbook and Amour, I’ll still have the same outlook. But, given the documentable hatred and boycotting of Zero Dark Thirty in the Oscar voting circle over complaints that the film doesn’t moralize against torture/coerced interrogation, she won’t win the award and, mark my words, the film will be totally snubbed in every other category it’s up for.  I could write a whole piece on how mad I am about the treatment of this wonderful movie, but I digress.  

Who Wins: It’s between Jennifer Lawrence and Emmanuelle Riva, but I’m calling Riva.  Lawrence has had a lot of traction recently, but Riva is old enough that the academy will probably give it to her, outside of however good she may be in Amour, for sympathy’s sake, lest they never have another chance to do so.  That sounds callous and unfair, but the Oscars are like that sometimes, and I’m not afraid to call a spade a spade.  So, Emmanuelle Riva wins here. 

Best Supporting Actress: 

Anne Hathaway for Les Miserables Jacki Weaver for Silver Linings Playbook Helen Hunt for The Session Sally Field for Lincoln Amy Adams for The Master

Who Wins:  If I have to tell you that Anne Hathaway has this for her role in Les Miserables, you've been living under a rock.  And think about this; she's the only thing that the legions of lovers and haters of this critically divisive film can agree on (I haven't seen it yet, so I can’t say).

Best Supporting Actor:

Tommy Lee Jones for Lincoln Christoph Waltz for Django Unchained Robert DeNiro for Silver Linings Playbook Phillip Seymour Hoffman for The Master Alan Arkin for Argo

Who Wins:  This one's kind of up for grabs, as none of these performances have really been out in front and, of course, all the actors previously won.  Based on Oscar logic, Robert DeNiro has the edge here because, even though I didn’t see Silver Linings Playbook yet, his performance there is emblematic of a long-time great actor making a come-back after over a decade of mostly starring in terrible films (in fact, I’d go further; aside from The Score, my best film of 2001, he hasn’t been good in anything since the 90s).  Given that, I’m calling DeNiro to win here.

Best Documentary: 

Searching For Sugar Man The Invisible War How To Survive A Plague The Gatekeepers 5 Broken Cameras

What Wins:  The only one of these I’ve seen so far is Searching For Sugar Man, which is a great film, but the issues it raises aren’t serious enough for the Documentary branch.  I’m not saying that they don’t tend to pick a quality film, as all of these films were critically acclaimed, but I’ve learned that, with this category, the most important and/or most visible cultural issue wins it, which is how I was rightly able to call Inside Job winning this two years ago against Exit From The Gift Shop.  This year, and this is going to sound extremely callous, but it’s the truth, it’s a fight between which issue is more important; mistreatment of women in the military (The Invisible War) or the fight against AIDS by mostly homosexuals (How To Survive A Plague).  I think How To Survive A Plague wins that battle, and it's been pretty much universally praised by critics, too, so it passes both litmus tests and is my call for this category.

Best Animated Film: 

Frankenweenie Brave ParaNorman Wreck It Ralph The Pirates: Band Of Misfits

What Should Win: Seeing how this is the only category where I've seen all the nominees, I can be more definitive with saying what should win.  I'm torn between the two best of these, Wreck It Ralph and The Pirates: Band Of Misfits, because they're both great in almost completely opposite ways.  I'd probably lean more towards Wreck It Ralph, seeing as Aardman has an Oscar already for Wallace & Gromit: Curse Of The Were-Rabbit, not to mention that Pirates has no chance in hell of winning anyway, but thanks, Oscar people, for nominating it over that awful Lorax film. I really appreciate that. 

What Wins:  It’s probably a two film race here between Wreck It Ralph, my pick, and Brave, my least favorite film of the nominees and the only one I didn’t like.  I hate to say it, but I have this sinking suspicion that Brave wins, because it’s a Pixar movie and Pixar’s film has won the award every time they've been up, except twice (only Monsters Inc. and Cars didn’t win and Cars 2 wasn’t nominated last year).  Also, given how evangelized Pixar is and how very few people can actually be objective about their catalog (except for the Cars films and ironically, this film), I say Brave will win, but I don’t want it to and I hope I'm proven wrong on Oscar night. 

Best Production Design:

Lincoln Les Miserables Anna Karenina Life Of Pi The Hobbit Volume 1: An Unexpected Journey

What Wins:  In all 5 of these nominated films, it's all about conveying sweep and setting on a pretty big scale (for the most part).  It's most likely that one of the three Best Picture nominated films will take this, and of those, I'm guessing it'll be Lincoln because, from what I've gathered from clips and the like (because I haven't seen the film yet), the production design really emphasizes a wide variety of settings and, even if they aren't as sweeping and extravagant as the other two, it appears that there's a great attention to detail paid to the comparatively smaller locations that make them, in their way, seem bigger than they are.  That's my guess, anyway, so for Production Design, I call Lincoln. 

Best Visual Effects: 

The Avengers Prometheus The Hobbit Volume 1: An Unexpected Journey Snow White And The Huntsman Life Of Pi

What Should Win:  I’ve seen the first three films in this list, so I think that’s good enough to make a tentative personal call here.  So, of those, I feel that Prometheus deserves the win.  I just love the look of this film and the seamless special effects that blend perfectly with the people and real-world elements.  I also like the muted color palate here, which further adds to the atmosphere.  But Prometheus won’t win, despite being worthy of the award, but seeing as I haven’t seen the other two (especially Life Of Pi), there is a chance that the good work of this movie could be bested in my mind in the future.  We’ll see.  

What Wins:  Life Of Pi, no question.  The Hobbit Volume 1 is hated in the film world over the 48 frames per second thing (I saw it in 24, so I can’t speak to that, but it still was blurry), so that’s out.  The Avengers and Prometheus are for the geek crowd, and they rarely get attention, even in lesser categories like this and Snow White is more known for the sexual proclivities between its director and Bella Swan, so the prestige picture, Life Of Pi, is all that’s left.  Aside from that, though, this film’s gotten almost universal praise for its visuals, including its use of 3D that has been compared to past highlights such as Avatar and last year’s winner, Hugo, so that’s something to keep in mind, too.

Best Film Editing: 

Life Of Pi Zero Dark Thirty Argo Lincoln Silver Linings Playbook

What Wins:  Not Zero Dark Thirty, but it should (and it should have gotten a Cinematography nod, too, but that’s another story).  After that, though, Argo should win and I think it will win.  The way that movie’s edited and the way it mixes stock footage, real-life reenactment of famous situations and the different settings is fantastic and I think that the Academy really likes true stories (or mostly true, in Argo’s case) that mix footage like that. And there is an excitement to the way this film is edited that I think the Oscar voters will reward come next week.

Best Cinematography: 

Anna Karenina Django Unchained Life Of Pi Lincoln Skyfall

What Wins:  Zero Dark Thirty… wait, it’s not up for this?! OK, that’s a bad call right there, but even if it was, it wouldn’t win.  OK, I gotta stop on this Zero Dark Thirty stuff… at least until I get to the next category that it’s either up for or should have been up for. I think Django Unchained gets this by a hair over Lincoln, which does have its sweeping vistas but, from what I’m hearing, it’s more about its interior shots.  I feel that the Academy likes a big scope in cinematography and there are a couple films like that this year, like Life Of Pi and Skyfall, but they also like being transported to an earlier time, so I feel the Antebellum South setting of Django has the edge.  Also, I also get the sense that Django gets it because they want to find something to give Tarantino’s latest, if not something in one of the big categories.

Best Original Screenplay: 

Michael Haneke for Amour Quentin Tarantino for Django Unchained Roman Coppola & Wes Anderson for Moonrise Kingdom Mark Boal for Zero Dark Thirty John Gatins for Flight 

Who Wins:  OK, right away, I want to call out John Gatin’s nomination for Flight.  Despite the love this film has gotten, I think Flight is kind of a terrible film and among its many sins is a script that stinks of Oscar bait that tries to hide a shallow, obvious and insulting after school special about alcohol addiction.   So, if that one wins, I’ll probably turn over furniture in my house, but I don’t think it will.  I think the script for Moonrise Kingdom gets it, given the style of the film and the sweetness of the story, especially the relationship between its two young leads.  Also, this film was loved by many (I don’t think it’s as great as others say, but there is greatness here, namely, in the script) but, surprisingly, didn’t get many nominations, so I think the Academy will want to spread the love around for this film. 

Best Adapted Screenplay:

Chris Terrio for Argo Lucy Alibar and Benh Zeitlin for Beasts Of The Southern Wild David Magee for Life Of Pi Tony Kushner for Lincoln David O. Russell for Silver Linings Playbook

Who Wins:  It’s pretty close between Chris Terrio and Tony Kushner here, but I think Terrio’s script for Argo gets it.  Yes, the film was examined at points in regards to how it changes the true story it’s based on and what it adds, but it never reached the critical mass that Zero Dark Thirty did (ironic, since this one changed more of the real story) and many didn’t think it made a difference.  And they’re right; what was added and changed doesn’t stick out or feel any less authentic than the stuff that’s on the money and, on its own terms, it’s well executed.  Also, I think the dash of humor in Argo gives it more of a reach than Kushner’s script for Lincoln, so I think that’s another factor that makes me think that Chris Terrio wins this award. 

Best Original Song: 

Before My Time from Chasing Ice Everybody Needs A Best Friend from Ted Pi’s Lullaby from Life Of Pi Suddenly from Les Miserables Skyfall from Skyfall

What Wins:  This is pretty easy; it’s gonna be Skyfall from… well, Skyfall.  The new song in Les Miserables sounds like it might have a shot, but I doubt it.  The rest never stuck out to people and besides, who’s seen Chasing Ice?  I don’t even remember hearing about it.  And I saw Ted (and I think it’s overrated), but the only song I remember from that was the Thunder Buddies one, which has lyrics that often don’t get nominated for this award (with the wonderful exception of Blame Canada from South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut). 

Best Sound Editing:

Agro Zero Dark Thirty Django Unchained Skyfall Life Of Pi 

What Wins:  Not Zero Dark Thirty, but Oscar people, if you want to make my night next week and decide to throw some bone to this movie, please make it this one, because it’s by far the best use of sound in any movie that came out last year.  But I’m going stick to my “Zero Dark Thirty wins no awards” stand and tell you that Skyfall will win.  Speaking of tossing bones to a movie, a lot of people expected Skyfall to get a Best Picture nod, given how well received it was, but as usual, it was relegated to the technical awards which it’ll probably win.  After all, Skyfall is an action picture where there’s lots of action that can express the use of sound often.  Also, it has a better chance of winning than other major films that get up for this award, like the Transformers movies, since it has some class to it (after all, it is a James Bond picture), and you know that the Academy is all about class. 

Best Sound Mixing:

Skyfall Lincoln Argo Les Miserables Life Of Pi

What Wins:  See my write-up for Best Sound Editing (aside from the Zero Dark Thirty part, obviously).  That explains why, once again, I think Skyfall takes this one.  Not much else to say.

Best Original Score:

Thomas Newman for Skyfall John Williams for Lincoln Alexandre Desplat for Argo Mychael Danna for Life Of Pi Dario Marianelli for Anna Karenina

Who Wins:  It’s a toss-up between Desplat and Williams here, I think and, despite the 20 year gap between now and John Williams’ last win (for Schindler’s List), I think that Alexandre Desplat’s score for Argo is going to win.  For one thing, Desplat hasn’t won an Oscar yet, despite 5 past nominations, so the Academy could feasibly use that in his favor (though that would also mean that Thomas Newman has an even better chance to win for Skyfall, given his previous 11 nods).  Second, I think that the prestige around Argo is strong enough that, even though it doesn't exude as sweeping an orchestral aura as Lincoln’s, it complements its setting very well, and it also has to capture the feel of its three primary settings (Iran, Hollywood and Langley), which is not always easy, but Desplat definitely does here.  So, I say Alexandre Desplat for Argo will get Best Original Score.

Best Makeup/Hairstyling 

Hitchcock The Hobbit Volume 1: An Unexpected Journey Les Miserables 

What Wins:  The makeup award now includes hairstyling, too, which is new, but the award is still an oddball.  We never see many nominees here and often, the ones you expect to see never make it, while other films that you’d never associate it with get in here (for example, Norbit getting a nod here for 2007 over Sweeney Todd and no, I will never let that disgusting insult go).  This year, the oddball is Hitchcock, but at least the other two nominations make sense.  For this, I think Les Miserables wins, given how prevalent the makeup and hair are in this movie, apparently, based on how close that is movie is shot to show them off.  Also, although it’s tempting to say that the return to Middle Earth in The Hobbit Volume 1 will get this, the Lord Of The Rings films got this award twice already and those films are held in much higher regard anyway, so Les Miserable wins.

Best Costume Design: 

Lincoln Mirror Mirror Snow White And The Huntsman Anna Karenina Les Miserables

What Wins: This award is always about the effectiveness of a movie transporting the audience somewhere with a bunch of extravagant outfits.  That’s how it always has been and always will be (and it explains why the less showy, but still interesting costumes of the great Catch Me If You Can never got a nomination for 2002).  This year, we have two Snow White films, the most extravagant of which is definitely Mirror Mirror (hey, Tarsem made it; how could it not be?), the once thought to be an Oscar contender Anna Karenina, the grittiness of Les Miserables (in its way) and Lincoln, the latter of which, I feel, will win.  Yeah, Lincoln’s costumes aren’t as extravagant as some of the others, but its apparent authenticity to the period makes up for that and, you could argue, that the less extravagant costumes of Lincoln draw us into the story more.  I won’t argue that, since I haven’t seen Lincoln yet, but I still think it wins Best Costume Design. 

Best Foreign Film: 

Amour War Witch No A Royal Affair Kon-Tiki 

What Wins:  Aside from Amour and arguably A Royal Affair, there aren’t many high profile foreign films in here.  Part of it is because the countries can only nominate one film (which, I guess, is why Holy Motors isn’t in here, despite critics loving it), but even then, I haven’t heard much about the others (I only know of No because it’s just now opening around the country).  The highest profile film doesn’t always win, but it tends to, and there’s clearly no higher-profile foreign film this year than the one that also got a nod for Best Picture; Amour, and that’s the one that’ll win (and besides, to give a preview of my Best Picture pick, it won’t win Best Picture). 

Best Animated Short Film:

Paperman Maggie Simpson In The Longest Daycare Head Over Heels Fresh Guacamole Adam And Dog

What Wins:  These short subject categories are a crapshoot, to be sure.  Even big film fans like me don’t always end up seeing many, or even any, of them released in a year.  This year, I saw one; Paperman, which is also the one I think will win.  If you saw Wreck It Ralph, you saw this before it and I think it’s a really artistic, beautiful and perfectly to-the-point love story conveyed with basically no dialogue and in black and white, mostly.  I think this one gets it because of the artistry and simplicity of it, though this is going on my only knowing about Paperman (though I can get an idea of what The Simpsons one is like).  I may end up being wrong on this, especially if the other movies have something else to offer, but given what I know, I call Paperman and it’d be a worthy winner. 

Best Live Action Short Film:

Asad Buzkashi Boys Curfew Death Of A Shadow Henry 

What Wins:  This one’s a complete guess for me, since I haven’t seen or heard of any of these films and my selection may totally misrepresent what it’s about.  Call it me being lazy or not willing to research and/or see the films, but that’s what’s happening here.  I say Asad, if only because the name suggests that it’s a story about people in Syria, a country that’s been in shambles for the past year and a half due to its leader who shares the film’s name and there’s a lot of talk going on about “it’s horrible in Syria and something needs to be done about it.”  But maybe it’s about something else, so spare me your hate mail and just take my guess that Asad wins here. 

Best Documentary Short:

Inocente Kings Point Redemption Mondays At Racine Open Heart

What Wins:  Another guess in one of the short subject categories?  Yes.  As I said before, this is one of those situations where I haven’t seen the nominees or even know what they’re about.  So, you should take that as you will when I predict Open Heart as the winner, as it sounds like something that has a message and subject that emphasizes fighting against a difficult situation and remaining a good hearted person amongst it that would probably be reiterated in an Oscar acceptance speech.  Again, I may be totally off on the film, but I’m still calling it Open Heart. 

Best Director: 

Michael Haneke for Amour Steven Spielberg for Lincoln Ang Lee for Life Of Pi David O. Russell for Silver Linings Playbook Benh Zeitlin for Beasts Of The Southern Wild

Who Wins:  First of all, Ben Affleck and Kathryn Bigelow were not nominated here for their masterful direction of Argo and Zero Dark Thirty, respectively and, to be as G-rated as possible regarding those calls, they were f**king bulls**t.  I’m especially upset since I’ve seen one of these films, Beasts Of The Southern Wild, which is one of the most overrated films of the year and is not well directed by Benh Zeitlin.  It’s a first time effort that makes all the first time filmmaker rookie mistakes.  The only good thing is that Zeitlin won’t win; Spielberg will, seeing how Lincoln has been celebrated as a movie and how, of the films that also got up for their director, it's been the front runner for Best Picture and, as it usually goes, the Best Picture and Best Director award go hand in hand.  Speaking of which… 

Best Picture: 

Zero Dark Thirty Silver Linings Playbook Lincoln Argo Beasts Of The Southern Wild Life Of Pi Amour Les Miserables Django Unchained

What Wins:  Not Lincoln, shockingly.  Usually, as I said, the film that wins Best Director also gets Best Picture and, as we came up to the day that the nominees were released, Lincoln had the wind in its sails.  In fact, on that day, I said Lincoln would win Best Picture, no question, but now, I’m taking that back.  I think Argo’s gonna win, as it’s won a ton of other awards since the Oscar nominees were announced and the Oscar buzz it had last fall is returning, while Lincoln’s buzz has slowly died down.  So, I’m going to call Argo for this and I’d be happy to see it win; it’s a great film and it’d certainly show the Academy that, despite what their snubbing of him as Best Director might indicate, Ben Affleck deserves credit for directing the movie he made.

OK, with 2012 now behind us, I usually take the time around now to compile lists of the best and worst movies I saw in the recently ended year.  For 2012, however, my list of seen films is pretty small, despite my end of year attempt to catch up on some of the year's releases.   In spite of this, I feel as if I need to put out tentative lists just to give an idea of what I have seen and what I think is good and bad.  These are definitely temporary lists (and they're shorter than the usual Top 10 lists, too), because of the films that I haven't seen yet, such as Flight, Lincoln, The Cabin In The Woods, Django Unchained, Les Miserables, and Zero Dark Thirty, among a whole host of others.  So, if you're favorite films aren't on either list, it's probably because I haven't seen them yet, so I'm open to suggestions, of both good and bad movies that you think may topple my current choices for each. I may decide to write up my past year' lists later, to give some ideas of some of my past winners and losers, but for now, it's 2012's tentative turn. Best Movies Of 2012: 1. Argo Man, Ben Affleck has been on a roll since he began directing in 2007.  A man who was once a tabloid punchline and whose best performances were either pooh-poohed (Good Will Hunting) or barely seen (Changing Lanes) became a directorial force starting with Gone Baby Gone in 2007 and continuing with 2010's The Town.  Now, with Argo, he's easily topped both his past achievements and made 2012's best film. This is the gripping, funny and sometimes unbearably tense true story of the Iran Hostage Crisis in 1979 and how the US government successfully extracted a group of hostages under cover of the filming of a phony sci-fi movie.  Like many true to life stories, some details were heightened and invented for the movie version, but in this case, it doesn't matter at all because every minute of this movie feels true. This is due to its excellent performances, sharp writing and especially Affleck's direction, which captures the late 70s and early 80s absolutely perfectly, from the lens filters that get the look right, to the camerawork, to the amazing use of archival footage (which then transitions into reenactment footage with almost documentary authenticity) and even going as far as opening the film with the 1970s Warner Bros logo. That last touch also emphasizes this film's love and insight into the world of movies.  Yeah, the movie's about multi-country diplomacy, and it gets that world right, but it treats the cinematic side of the story just as well (they did have to make their fake movie seem like it was actually being made, after all), with great and sometimes funny insights into the industry and some nice supporting turns by John Goodman and Alan Arkin.  And speaking of movies, after seeing this masterpiece, I can't wait to see what Affleck comes up with in the future, because with Argo, he's revealing talents, both as director and a star, that could lead to a legendary career. 2. The Secret World Of Arrietty OK, I'm kind of cheating by including this Studio Ghibli (but not Hayao Miyazaki directed) take on The Borrowers, because it came out originally in Japan in 2009.  However, it's still on here because it released in the US in 2012, due to various delays which, I think, prevented it from being considered for the Best Animated Film Oscar this year.  And that's too bad, because it'll increase the chance that a quality animated film that, for my money, is 2012's best one, will be wrongly forgotten. As I said, this is an adaptation of sorts of The Borrowers, which has been made into films before (the 1998 one is probably the most famous), but none of them had the quiet pathos, creativity and beauty of this one.  It's certainly one of most subdued versions of this story I think of, but that only helps us become further acquainted and involved with the characters, their relationships and the story, which also allows us to pick up on the film's many subtleties regarding them.  Personally, I love that this is a animated film that has the confidence in itself and its audience (which includes younger children) to take its time to develop its world and characters, which really makes its messages about bravery, compassion, commitment shine through. I also disagree quite heavily with many people I've discussed this film with, including anime fans, who think that the movie leaves too many elements unanswered and doesn't develop some of them as much as they'd like.  That's because they'd be irrelevant to the heart of the film, which is the relationship between the small family and the young boy, and by not explaining them, they add intrigue that makes the film worth discussing afterward and prevent the usual black and white messaging that other films would resort to, such as another animated film from 2012 that's on the other list of mine. 3. Killer Joe OK, I know that pretty much no one saw this film and that, even after this glowing endorsement, many people still won't.  They may nod their heads in interest when I say that it's the latest from William Friedkin (The Exorcist, The French Connection, Bug) and that it has fantastic performances from a strong cast, including Matthew McConaughey, Juno Temple, Gina Gershon, Emile Hirsch, and Thomas Hayden Church, and then they'll recoil in fear when I mention that it was an NC-17 rated film.  Indeed it was, though I'm convinced that, if it were released by a major studio, it would have gotten away with an R, even with that one scene that will probably never allow you to imagine Kentucky Fried Chicken in the same innocent way again. But that scene (and every scene in the movie, for that matter) doesn't exist just for the sake of perversion or shock value; it's all about creating this dark and twisted world of low-lives that almost seems like a character in and of itself.  The set-up sounds pretty familiar; a family plans to murder the father's ex-wife to collect her insurance benefits and pay off a debt to a group of thugs, so they hire a crooked cop/contract killer who takes a liking to the young and "innocent" daughter (played excellently by Juno Temple, who deserves, but won't get, an Oscar nod for this).  But this movie is its own intriguing, raw, unique and challenging creation, thanks to its strong writing and performances, transporting lighting and cinematography and, of course, its lurid details that, unlike the similar (and overrated) Winter's Bone, doesn't ever let the audience off the hook or periodically sugarcoat its bleak aura.  It also has probably the most thought-provoking ending of the year that, to be honest, comes abruptly and doesn't answer a whole lot, but because it really got my mind going after I saw it and caused me to come up with many ideas about what it all meant, that's in no way a negative thing.  In fact, I'd people to see this if only to let me know what they thought the ending signified.  But if you do see it, be a man (or woman) and see the Unrated Director's Cut version, which is the original NC-17 one that I saw in theaters.