The Ten Best Films of 2021: A Lineup

It’s been a long while since I was last able to write up one of these. From being burned out on writing film reviews during COVID-19, or a constant need to find myself the motivation to continuously write during a pandemic with the accessibility for newer movies often being stinted and pricey, I just thought it wouldn’t exactly be easy to want to write about movies anymore. But as per usual, I don’t write these lists until at least a month into the new year, for the purpose of catching up on more releases within the prior year.

2021, to put it lightly, was a fantastic year for films. In addition to being able to go out more actively to the movies again, it only ever felt like I was seeing what I loved about the movies most all my life. That’s where I thought writing about these movies could only ever keep me motivated, for I see them as movies that, if anything, are best representative of the best in cinema through the year.

10. The Matrix Resurrections

Perhaps to start off the list is none other than Lana Wachowski’s belated Matrix sequel — maybe you’re one to argue that this isn’t a necessary one, but even Lana herself knew its place in pop culture. Here is arguably one of the best examples of a blockbuster film in recent memory, one that exemplifies a personal statement being made through art and reaching a large audience. With looking at the impact of The Matrix franchise over the years, having been claimed and misappropriated in equal measure, to the point that it feels like a franchise being milked, Lana Wachowski turns what would have been any other meaningless legacy sequel into a meta-commentary on the state of the industry.

Surely enough, I figure this would be a controversial entry. But as I was sitting in the theater for The Matrix Resurrections, all I could ever say is that I think it was everything I could ever want from a belated Matrix sequel. Did we need it? That’s debatable, for it’s a question poised by the film itself, but I am glad that it exists.

9. Dune

Frank Herbert’s Dune has always been a difficult novel to adapt to the screen, especially in a theatrical format — if David Lynch’s attempt or Alejandro Jodorowsky’s proposal didn’t already show that. But if there ever was a proper way to bring it to the screen, Denis Villeneuve has done exactly that with his take on Dune, which could already be making a case for the single best blockbuster film since Mad Max: Fury Road. With covering such a dense book, maybe adapting it in the manner that Villeneuve did as a multi-parter doesn’t only set forth the promise of what’s to come, but it feels like a very self-contained story, like what Peter Jackson was able to accomplish with each of his The Lord of the Rings films (but in particular, The Fellowship of the Ring).

In addition to that, with myself noting The Lord of the Rings and Mad Max: Fury Road, this was maybe the first time I’d felt that a major release felt like a major event film, rather than another cog in the franchise machine. It’s a feeling that I’ve remembered so well from seeing films like The Dark Knight or Mad Max: Fury Road, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that there will be more greatness to come if a film like this could find such a broad audience.

8. C’mon C’mon

After 20th Century Women, I’d always wondered what else Mike Mills had up his sleeve when it came to making films that seem to hit all the soft spots at the right time — and with C’mon C’mon, he did deliver and then some more. In maybe his best performance since his work with Paul Thomas Anderson in The Master, Joaquin Phoenix delivers some beautifully empathetic work, perhaps one that may hit too close to home, when looking at how he and the newcomer Woody Norman perform alongside one another.

But all in all, I believe this might be Mills’s most beautiful effort, just all around. Do I like it more than I do 20th Century Women? I don’t know about that, but I just know Mills hits all the right spots at the right times.

7. West Side Story

I was always somewhat apprehensive about the need for a new West Side Story take now, but there’s also a sense of confidence you can see in the way that Steven Spielberg brings his own to the screen that makes it feel distinctive enough from the 1961 film. When considering the era in which West Side Story had always been reflective of, the greatest thing about watching Spielberg’s film comes from knowing that a new version doesn’t only repeat the same things beat by beat but rather instead, it reaffirms the impact that it has had over the years, showing how it still remains as strong as ever even today.

In some respects, you can argue that it does certain things better than the Robert Wise-Jerome Robbins film did, but for what was also the first musical film directed by Steven Spielberg, you can definitely feel it as the one film he’s been itching to make for a while. But as I see it, it might just as well be worth saying that West Side Story might just as well be as good a musical film as we’re probably ever going to get within the next few years or so.

6. Memoria

When watching an Apichatpong Weerasethakul film, you can’t help but feel like films of these sorts ultimately stick with you for the meditative feelings which they possess. From Tropical Malady all the way into Palme d’Or winner Uncle Boonmee and everything beyond, his first film not in Thai retains everything one could ever love about his works. In how he retains emotions that stretch for long periods of time, these slow moments that define Memoria are, as I’d noted already, meditative, but ultimately, send rushes of feelings through the head.

For what it’s worth, it might just as well have been the most that I feel a Weerasethakul film has succeeded at placing you within that defined headspace, maybe the most since Tropical Malady. But when his own body of work has been defined by one fantastic film after the other, it’s hard enough for me to describe the singular impact that they have upon finishing each.

5. Titane

Here is, maybe, the best midnight movie you could be watching in a long time coming. Julia Ducournau’s second feature film, the Palme d’Or-winning Titane is a brilliant body horror feature that brings out the rise of the new flesh, as the Canadian baron of blood, David Cronenberg, once said. But even with the extent to which Julia Ducournau brings another look to the relationship between metal and flesh comes about, there’s another layer to Titane that’s so sweet and funny, underneath the horrific imagery you can expect yourself to see in here.

But that’s not all; in seeing a film like Titane you’re seeing a film all about the explorations of identity, with looking back at the discomfort to conform to something you were made to stick within. With the premise it’s dealing with, there’s a whole lot you can expect, and Titane delivers all of that and then some. If Cronenberg made himself out to be the king of body horror, then Julia Ducournau might just as well be the queen.

4. Licorice Pizza

Paul Thomas Anderson’s films have very consistently made their way into my “best of the year” lists, going from There Will Be Blood, The Master, Inherent Vice, and Phantom Thread. With Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson finds himself back into an era that he clearly loves most. With a film like Licorice Pizza, you could easily have made it out to be a coming-of-age tale about what it was like to have been young and aimless at a time where you feel as if you could have anything you ever wanted in front of you.

Nonetheless, I think that while you might see the trailer and think to yourself about how this looks like any other coming-of-age comedy set in the past akin to Dazed and Confused, instead, there’s a more melancholy angle present — especially in the supposed “romance” between Gary and Alana. In both of their debut film roles, Cooper Hoffman and Alana Haim prove themselves to be actors worth looking out for, just as Licorice Pizza is one of the most gorgeous films to come out in recent memory. Not really a love letter, but a melancholic portrait of the naïveté associated with looking at a film about the era, and what it was really like to be a part of that.

3. The Power of the Dog

In her first feature film since 2009’s Bright Star, Jane Campion brings out a stunning look at masculinity in The Power of the Dog. It’d be one thing to describe The Power of the Dog as a perfect comeback to feature films for her, but she’s always been delivering great stuff all throughout her career — and in turn, maybe made what might be one of her most beautiful efforts in here. In addition to that, this film boasts what I believe to be a career best performance from Benedict Cumberbatch, as the volatile and impulsive Phil Burbank. But there’s another angle to which The Power of the Dog looks at masculinity that ultimately makes it feel deconstructive.

In how Campion sheds a light on sexual repression and toxic masculinity, it feels like you could only trace this back to the voice bringing it to the screen. Much like what Elaine May had brought out in Mikey and Nicky, a wholly damning portrait of masculinity, coming from the perspective of a woman — perhaps unveiling another layer most men are willing to admit they can see.

2. Drive My Car

When the title card of Drive My Car finally shows up, a little over forty minutes into this three hour film, what I’d initially thought of what came beforehand only changed soon afterward. This new film by Ryusuke Hamaguchi, one of two films of his to come out in the year (the other being the wonderful Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy) brings the words of Haruki Murakami to the screen in the most graceful and reflexive manner, in looking back at how the art we create changes us on the whole, but also how we look at the people around ourselves.

In Drive My Car, the loneliness is one that can always linger, just from grief — even if you’re finding yourself in the company of others. There’s not a moment in this film where it ever goes away, but ultimately, that’s the core to what makes Drive My Car such a success, because you’re always feeling like the ghosts of the past are what will eventually set the paths for our future, and that of those around us.

1. The Worst Person in the World

If you’re ever wondering what could be the definitive “wow, she is literally me” feature film of the decade so far, then I can only say look no further than Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World. In the hands of a lesser director, The Worst Person in the World could have been a basic romantic comedy, but Trier doesn’t see that familiar story as being exactly that. Instead, it’s a coming-of-age, perhaps one that’s only reflective of fears that come forth prior to experiencing a midlife crisis. But seeing how this all unfolds over time, especially in the film’s unique structuring (twelve chapters, an introduction, and an epilogue), it only reflects the manner to which it’s not as easy to leave over a small period of time.

I’ve obviously raved for a long time coming about Renate Reinsve’s performance in the film, for even if she isn’t the one who described herself as “the worst person in the world,” you can’t help but come close to understanding her impulsive decisions one by one — which, in my eyes, makes this the performance of the year. At some point, we’ve all called ourselves “the worst person in the world,” and it’s that pain that makes this film resonate all the more. And maybe that’s just an aftereffect of being somewhat close to Julie’s age, because what may happen in a little around two hours on screen, may be a little more than an eternity for us.