The 2010s: My favorite films
Over the coming weeks, I will list and briefly discuss my favorite films, albums, and books of the 2010s. These are not meant to be an exhaustive review of the Best artworks, simply a catalog of what I loved, what meant a lot to me, and what I could remember while I was compiling this list.
Films listed in alphabetical order.
Annihilation (2018)
An instant and underviewed classic. As soon as the movie ended I wanted to watch it again and never watch it again. Alex Garland’s adapation of Jeff Vandermeer’s (also excellent) novel is a genre mash between sci-fi exploration and horror is a visual feast, as a crew of female soldiers and scientists head into Area X’s genetically mutating swamp filled with grotesque and beautiful new life. The inexplicable surroundings have their own logic to them, leaving the expedition team at turns perplexed, mesmerized, and terrified. Riddled with distrust of each other and their mission the team slowly succumbs to Area X’s influence in what become incredible scenes of paranoia and sacrifice. With its central mystery becoming more complex as the film goes on viewers are encouraged to do the same and accept the alien brilliance rather than engage their confusion. A thrumming sci-fi score for the ages and stellar turns each from Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tessa Thompson, Gina Rodriguez, and Oscar Isaac make this movie shine as bright as The Shimmer itself. It is a true shame that Paramount unceremoniously dumped the movie in theaters without promotion as it ought to be hailed as a marvel of science fiction filmmaking.
Black Swan (2010)
“A psychosexual thriller” is what I recall seeing on the poster outside just before I saw Black Swan in theaters, words which reoccur to me every time I watch Darren Aronofsky’s masterful character study of a ballerina under enormous duress. Natalie Portman’s Nina is a women torn asunder by the world around her. She is tormented by the stress of performance life, her controlling mother, harassing instructor, and the threat of replacement. All of this drives her further into a spiraling unbecoming which is as devastating as it is inevitable. Portman’s performance ranks among my favorite ever, with Nina’s metamorphosis coming across in every flicker across her face and the increasing violence of her ballet. Shot largely through close-ups on Nina, the weight of those external pressures is apparent in almost every frame as she is forced to rebuild herself into something raw and caustic. The climactic performance of Swan Lake is as captivating a sequence as any put to film in recent memory, stopping me in my tracks whenever I happen across it.
The Favourite (2018)
After his criminally underrated The Lobster, I knew Yorgos Lanthimos was at home examining abusive, even horrifying relationship dynamics through the lense of black comedy. In The Favourite, he hones his craft sharply, producing a film at turns uproarious (the duck race), joyful (Queen Anne and Sarah Marlborough’s secret tryst) and disturbing (that beautifully edited ending). With transcendent performances from Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz, and Emma Stone, the film’s central amorous struggle warps depending on which woman is, at that moment, the favourite. Replete with fish-eye shots and clever dialogue, this movie manages to make sympathetic portrayals out of its 3 anti-heroines right up until their tenuous balance crumbles apart in the final act. Also, in a tweet I can’t find now, someone pointed out that this movie does a terrific job showing the aftermath of sexual violence without depicting that sexual violence.
Get Out (2017)
My dad and brother spoiled the twist of Get Out mere hours before I was set to see the movie, which meant I was able to watch the movie’s seams looking for the clues to what was coming. I was not disappointed in the slightest Jordan Peele’s first feature took the world by storm upon release because it is one of the most tightly crafted horror movies in recent memory. Every frame is filled with meaning, each line of dialogue or piece of decor an omen for what comes to pass. By the time Chris is sent to the Sunken Place, we have already been scared witless just by the uncanny behavior of Rose’s family and their hired help. The tumultuous final act pays off each of those fears in ways which still manage to shock us, right up to the movie’s end. Daniel Kaluuya became a major star for his subtle, mounting portrayal of Chris, adding layers of depth as the film goes on until he is pushed beyond the fray. Get Out was widely recognized as an instant classic and stands tall among the rising wave of black film-making in this decade.
The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011)
My favorite David Fincher film, Dragon Tattoo remains one of the slickest novel adaptations I’ve seen. Molding an unwieldy book of sexual violence, corporate secrecy, journalism, and mysterious murders into a fashionable two and a half hours should not work nearly as well as it does here. With deft performances from Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara carrying the movie along, this parsing of a sordid family’s history fills the viewer with dread, constantly appearing to jump away from depravity before diving back in. The distinct acts of the movie build together into harrowing moments balanced by the leads’ increasingly tender relationship and soft juxtapositions (I think often of this sweet song beginning to play just as Mikael discovers a mutilated cat). The gorgeous cinematography and supporting actors round out a highly polished finished product which I have returned to many times over the decade.
Her (2013)
This movie tore my first year college house apart. Everyone either loved or loathed this Spike Jonze film about the romance between a dorky Joaquin Phoenix and his AI assistant, voiced by an almost-never-been-better Scarlett Johansson. The picture is visually sumptuous, presenting an idealized future Los Angeles replete with clean streets and pastels. Phoenix plays his nerdy, wounded techie Theodore with real charm, only to lean completely into the less seamy parts of his real world counterparts. I still think Johansson’s voice acting was worthy of serious awards recognition. Her Samantha is the spine of the movie, playful and tender and vulnerable about her needs as a growing and evolving system outpacing her human lover. The couple’s dates are as grand as they are compact and when they begin to fall apart it hurts. Certainly a bit too focused on Theodore’s feelings and perhaps the real life breakup between Jonze and filmmaker Sofia Coppola (this movie is an excellent double feature with her 2003 masterpiece Lost In Translation, Johansson’s only better performance) but still a majestic bit of romance for the digital age.
If Beale Street Could Talk (2018)
We were blessed with two Barry Jenkins’ features in the back half of the decade. This one, an adaptation of a James Baldwin novel, is a fulsome romance following two young black Harlemites in caught in the viciousness of America. Tish, pregnant and living at home, goes to extremes to help her fiance Fonny, falsely accused of rape. With the help of her mother (Regina King at the height of her powers) and father Tish tells Fonny’s story, visits him constantly, searches for legal help and evidence to win him back his freedom. Told in a nonlinear fashion, the movie swings from the intensity of their love to the sorrow of their situation with neither spared nuance and respect. Nicholas Brittel’s horn-filled score sends the romance sky high and has become a regular in my Spotify rotation. KiKi Layne and Stephan James are superb as the young lovers torn apart by police injustice whose spirits rarely falter. Working with tricky source material, Jenkins brings a master’s touch to this film and the difficulties of love under extreme duress. Even as the narrative ends on a sour note the film makes one’s spirits soar alongside the resilient family being built on screen.
Inside Out (2015)
Possibly my second favorite Pixar film (2009’s Up), this remarkable achievement of imagination is excellent from top to bottom. The elaborate design of a young girl’s mind offers up fresh laughs and poignant corridors a mile a minute, as the stellar voice cast bridges that levity and depth of emotion with ease. The overarching plot of Riley’s misery following a cross country move is handled with surprising care, even as the emotional turmoil is presented through her squabbling personified emotional states. Richard Kind’s turn as her discarded imaginary friend Bing Bong is one of the best performances in any animated film of the decade, and his heart wrenching demise brought me to tears. Though their films’ qualities has been inconsistent and the studio itself recovering from the fallout of John Lasseter’s harassment, Inside Out and Coco stand as Pixar’s bright spots of the decade.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
Every time I start talking about Fury Road I start with the brilliance of its simplicity. The movie is, in effect, two car chases: one there and one back. Somehow, George Miller and his team crafted the greatest action film ever and gave us a new genre icon in Imperator Furiosa, played perfectly by Charlize Theron. Returning to the Mad Max franchise for after decades of Babe and Happy Feet, Miller used extensive delays to perfect the jaw-dropping practical stunts throughout the movie, flipping 18 wheelers and blowing up muscle cars across the desert. Edited at a frenetic yet easy to follow pace, the raw action on display is awe-inspiring. In the middle of that (literal) firestorm is a poignant story of female liberation from male oppression, with a band of women escaping and then overthrowing their tormentors. The “Wives” each have distinct, fleshed out personalities which play brilliantly against the Max’s near-feral grunting, aiding his return to humanity while securing a brighter future for themselves. If you haven’t already, go watch Fury Road on the biggest screen you can and marvel in its magnificence, shiny and chrome.
Moonlight (2016)
I stand by my 2017 writing about Moonlight, my favorite film of all-time, and will briefly add only that every single person I know who has seen it in the years since has been breathless in their praise for Barry Jenkin’s immaculate feature. One of the most subtle films I’ve ever seen, it is at once a meditation on queer black life, the crack epidemic, poverty, the effects of incarceration, homophobia, love, parenting, music, and so much more. This is one for the ages.
O.J.: Made In America (2016)
It was the summer of Trump, a bloody and furious one. It was also the summer of Orenthal James Simpson, whose (alleged) murder of Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman became the fodder of an FX Show and this nine hour documentary in the span of a few months. Made In America is a sprawling walk through modern American history and OJ’s personal history, tying them together to help make sense of his shocking acquittal, the bizarre life he lead afterwards, and his eventual imprisonment follwing his attempt to steal back some of his NFL paraphernalia. Almost all of the major figures still alive are present in the documentary, from OJ’s former teammates and sponsors to family members of the deceased to his defense attorneys and Marcia Clark, the prosecutor who attempted to put OJ away for his murders. This unprecedented access and the enormous amount of archival footage Peter Edelman used creates a damning portrait of the nation which enabled OJ to commit his crimes, not only the murders but the abuse he leveled on Brown beforehand and the audacity he had afterwards. Watching this in that blood summer of 2016 when every Trump rally had the feeling of a ticking time bomb helped me make sense of this country and the fateful election held that November (OJ was released from prison 11 months later).
Parasite (2019)
I have thought about Parasite every day since I saw it in the late summer. It is such an invigorating, funny, horrifying, depressing, elegant, and shocking film that everything I have watched since has been compared against it in my mind. Bong Joon Ho’s Palme D’or winner is a piercing examination of wealth inequality stings from its first shot to the last, following the elaborate con of a poor South Korean family taking over the servant jobs of a rich one. The performances crackle as the semi-basement dwellers attach themselves to their wealthy counterparts one by one in a hilarious redistribution of wealth. When the film turns on a dime halfway through it becomes a sorrowful, irony-laced drama which left me riddled with tension. The wealthy family’s mansion dominates the film in a fashion not unlike the Overlook Hotel. Some of the best scenes in the movie come from Ho’s ingenious use of architecture to obscure characters and objects. In the end, no matter whether you begin above or below, there will always be someone waiting to invade.
Roma (2018)
True story: I was pretty bored by Roma’s first half when I watched it just a few hours before the Oscars ceremony this year. The cinematography was gorgeous, lead actress Yalitzia Aparicio was delivering a lovely performance, but director/writer/cinematographer Alfonso Cuaron’s movie was moving along at a glacial pace. I recall needing to check on a crock pot of chili around the one hour mark and thinking “maybe I’ll finish it tomorrow.” And then the whole thing ramped up in an instant, as Cleo is brutally confronted by armed revolutionaries while shopping. And there’s the increasing fragility of the family she works as a caretaker for, with those small children taxing both Cleo and their mother during their father’s sudden absence. And it builds and builds, as I had been too stupid to realize it was doing from that first shot of Cleo cleaning the floors. My heart leapt onscreen to watch this woman bear so much of the unbearable (Aparaicio had never acted before and Cuaron withheld scripts to get genuine emotional reactions in each scene), discarded by so much of Mexican society and those around her. Her perseverance itself becomes the movie’s tale, right until the incredible beach sequence and her emotional climax. The tears she sheds there were joined by my own at home. I became swept up by the film’s majesty and consider it a wonderful companion piece to Cuaron’s other dazzling film of the decade, 2013’s Gravity.
The Shape of Water (2017)
A life-long fan of Guillermo Del Toro’s fantastical worlds, I was very ready for The Shape of Water and still blown away by its surprises. Famously the movie where a lady has sex with a fish monster, this tender romance moves swimmingly through its plot of society’s Others banding together in solidarity. The mute heroine (Sally Hawkins) and her deified lover (Doug Jones, Del Toro’s longtime monster man)both deliver wonderfully restrained performances whether they’re eating eggs together or flooding bathrooms so they can screw each other upright. Michael Shannon’s menacing and sexually twisted G-Man pounces across the film as the true monster (Del Toro was very aware about casting a white government agent hunting down an “illegal alien” in 2017). Octavia Spencer and Richard Jenkins round out this stellar cast of affirming freaks seeking to hold onto something pure in this world. The violence is played with appropriate viciousness, the pacing at home in both a Sirk film and a blockbuster, and the final flourishes of love are sweet without ever being saccharine. A special film about special people and one of the rare genre films to bring home major Oscar gold.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
By miles the best superhero film of this superhero dominated decade, the tale of Miles Morales and his crew of fellow spider-folk a marvel of 3D animation done right. Each of the spider-people have their own animation styles and looks, brought to life with comic book panels and effects. The orgiastic explosion of color and light during the climactic battle had my jaw on the theater floor. Anchoring the stunning animated feats is a heartfelt story of self-acceptance and selfless heroism. Miles grows to believe in his ability and trust in the people around him out of respect for their similarities but admiration for their differences. His growth runs alongside that of the aging, washed up Peter B. Parker’s attempt to rebuild himself into something more than just a superhero. With a delightful voice cast (Nic Cage going full Cage as Spider-Man Noir is perfect) and infectious soundtrack (ayy ayy ayy!) rounding it out, Into the Spider-Verse is a terrific feel good movie, bildungsroman, and human tale of superhuman courage.
Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)
The thought I had most vividly while watching The Last Jedi in theaters was, “this is the most original Star Wars ever,” a thought which holds up today, days away from the release of The Rise of Skywalker. I’ve been watching Star Wars as long as I’ve been watching movies and I love the franchise, but is mostly built upon itself in a cycle of self-referential plots and symbols. 2015’s The Force Awakens was instantly recognizable as a pastiche of the Original Trilogy. Fun, and introducing wonderful new characters, but very safe. Director/writer Rian Johnson decided to upend that tradition with a bevy of new ideas and many borrowed from the wider cinematic world. From its Rashomon and Bridge on the River Kwai plotlines, gallivant through the galactic elite’s playground Canto Bight, and startlingly effective Force conversations between Rey and Kylo Ren The Last Jedi continually brought new and exciting elements into the then forty year-old franchise. The captivating throne room sequence was my favorite action moment not found in Fury Road, and Luke Skywalker’s arc is an emotional swan song for the series icon. While I fear The Rise of Skywalker may retcon some of what made this movie great, for now we still have this shining beacon of hope.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
12 Years a Slave (2013)
Arrival (2017)
Birdman (2014)
Frances Ha (2012)
Gravity (2013)
Hereditary (2018)
The Irishman (2019)
Lady Bird (2017)
The Social Network (2010)
Thoroughbreds (2018)
Toy Story 3 (2010)
