The Reel Life's Best of the Decade (2010-2019)

Jacob DiLandro counts down his top 20 favorite films of the past decade, with some honorable mentions thrown in for good measure.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always - Review

 

One of the hardest things a filmmaker can do is create a story outside of a political agenda. Think of the silliest, most bizarre films out there and they likely have some inkling of political commentary: “Raising Arizona” wouldn’t have happened if convicts didn’t lose so many rights once they were released, “The LEGO Movie” has a lot to say about corporations and social influencing, and “The Invisible Man (2020)” and “Halloween (2018)” are both tales of women surviving abuse and not being believed by the justice system.

So, to create a film that not only feels politically autonomous, but to be so autonomous while having a story about such a politically charged subject is either the mark of a master filmmaker or someone in way over their head. Luckily, writer/director Eliza Hittman (“Beach Rats”) clearly knows what she’s doing, and “Never Rarely Sometimes Always” ends up being a near perfect film.

Its incredible how little dialogue is in “Always,” instead just letting the audience members sit with the characters, taking in their journey and situation alongside them. This is a textbook example of “show, don’t tell,” instead of Autumn telling her cousin how she feels or how upset she is, it’s clearly visible in the way she interacts with the world and reacts to things as they come to her. You don’t need to be told how a situation has affected her, you can feel it too.

That’s a testament not just to the excellent direction from Hittman, but to the performances from these two leads; Sidney Flanigan and Talia Ryder, both in their film debuts. Their chemistry and friendship is immediately palpable, and it’s the lifeblood of the film. There is no other way to describe their performances other than perfection. Ryder might lean a bit more towards an outgoing side and Flanigan is the more “lead” actress, but both do such an incredible job together its virtually impossible to separate them.

Most will likely not like this film for a number of reasons, one of the biggest being that it is a slow movie. Things really take their time to happen, and it is a film that exists outside of a strict plot structure. “Always” isn’t a film where you ask yourself “does this scene matter more than this other scene?” because they’re all parts of a whole. As cheesy as it might sound, this is less a film and more so an experience.

This is bolstered by some great an inobtrusive cinematography from Hélène Louvart (“The Milk of Human Kindness,” “Pina 3D”) and music from Julia Holter (“Pure,” “Bleed for This”). Holter’s music fades in and out to compliment moments, not to provide a thumping score, and its used to beautiful effect to point out very specific moments within Autumn’s journey. Likewise, while Louvart’s cinematography is for the most part simple, there are specific moments where she deliberately uses Autumn’s attention and a focus away from the moments within ultrasounds and operating rooms to further accentuate her feelings.

Numerous moments throughout the film some might find shocking or upsetting, and question why nothing is done about them. To discuss those specific moments would be to get into spoiler territory but suffice it to say that Hittman has these moments here because, for moment girls and women, that’s how the world is. It’s brutal and shocking and upsetting, but Autumn and Skylar just have to deal with it, like so many other women in the world do. That unflinching commitment to realism might turn some away, as it contributes to the slow pace, but it just further cements the film as an absolute masterclass.

“Never Rarely Sometimes Always” is without a doubt the first truly great film of the year. While there may have been other good movies and ones that will enter the best of the year conversation come December, this is a movie that is virtually guaranteed to be on those lists. From the script to the direction to the acting to the music and cinematography, this is virtually a masterpiece through and through. 5/5

The Hunt (2020) - Review

 

Satire noun

The use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues. (Oxford English Dictionary)

Going purely off of the definition of the genre, “The Hunt” is, without a doubt, a satire. It uses its semi-horror movie setting and over the top violence to satirize the massive divide between the two political camps that exist in American politics today; the elite, snobby liberals and the down to earth, dirt covered conservatives. Are there people somewhere in between? Who knows, because according to Director Craig Zobel (“Westworld,” “Z for Zachariah”) and writers Nick Cuse (“Maniac,” “Watchmen (2019)”) and Damon Lindelof’s (“Westworld,” “Watchmen (2019)”) new satire, who cares?

While the idea of turning the current debate on American gun control into a film taking the model of the classic short story “The Most Dangerous Game” seems novel at first glance, the film doesn’t seem to be about that. Despite the writers citing it as an adaptation of that story, and it having an almost verbatim setup, this kind of an idea is thrown out the window by the time the film starts. It abandoning its original idea doesn’t even crack the film’s top five biggest problems though.

For starters, the film takes far longer than it should to do just that, start. The first 20 minutes flip flop between protagonists until it finally lands on the one who can stay alive the longest, Betty Gilpin’s (“GLOW,” “Nurse Jackie”) Crystal. Her set jaw and country drawl aren’t the least bit convincing or engaging. She resembles the imagined worst-case scenario for female leads for films like “Terminator: Dark Fate” or “Captain Marvel.” She’s just not that charismatic or engaging, speaking with an incredibly quiet growl, with near superhuman levels of foresight, only occasionally spouting out of tone jokes and physical comedy gags. The tonal whiplash that these gags cause might be necessary to just keep audiences awake.

Even if she was a charismatic lead (she isn’t), she isn’t the least bit interesting. She gains the least background and character building in the film, and by the time it’s revealed why, the reasoning is on par with a 10am rerun of “Days of Our Lives.” Its shockingly poor, causing a moment of silence as if the audience is waiting for her to stare at the camera and say “Sike.” She also is apathetic to the events as they proceed, frequently repeating the same line as new information is learned: “I don’t care.”

Now, while Crystal’s character and arc might be the biggest issue, the violence is not far behind. For a film that seems to market itself on its horror/thriller aspects, it’s hard to see annoying being scared or thrilled by the proceedings. What’s here either plays out like a bad episode of “The Walking Dead,” with stilted effects and cheap looking gore, or holds back on the goods, hiding exploding heads behind doors or wide shots. The few moments of gruesome violence that are here are played for laughs, which is incredibly confusing given the film’s messages and leads to its most glaring flaw.

If Zobel, Cuse and Lindelof wanted to make an overly violent thriller, that’s fine. If they wanted to make a satire on American politics, that’s fine too. But mixing the two together seems to have been the ultimate mistake, at least with this execution. Early on there’s a gag about a young woman falling into a pit of spikes, being impaled and being rescued. She is then blown up and falls back in the pit of spikes, this time with her intestines out and her legs missing. She asks a nearby ally to shoot her to put her out of her misery and when he refuses, she grabs the gun from him, calls him a pussy, and shoots herself.

Its genuinely uncomfortable to watch, given that this is a character that we’ve been endeared to so far in the film. Its not possible to laugh at the moment due to the context that she’s being hunted and brutally murdered for no apparent reason, and it’s hard to gather if the moment is trying to make a point due to how incredibly uncomfortable and overly violent it is.

The best way to explain why “The Hunt” fails so spectacularly is to compare it to a longstanding piece of satirical history; Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal.” Swift writes in the piece that, in order to solve Ireland’s issues with a lack of food and money, that poor families should start eating and selling babies. He does include in the piece moments where he describes which cuts of a newborn are the most delicious, but at no point is it ever mistaken for seriousness. “The Hunt” is so concerned with being taken seriously, that it fails to remember that to be an effective satirical work, it has to show how ridiculous its events are.

So frequently the film employs traditional and outplayed horror film violence that it obscures any point that could’ve been made. Also, given that the film spends so much time talking about guns and violence, it’s still baffling that its point isn’t about gun control in any way.

A work of satire should evoke some emotion in the viewer. It should empower those who agree with its points and anger those who don’t. If a film is setting out to be satirical and, when credits roll, the reaction from its audience is the same as its apathetic and droll main character (“I don’t care.”) the satirical elements, and by extension the film, has fundamentally failed. Its virtually impossible to see anyone on either side caring about this hunt. 1/5

Onward - Review

 

Once, there was magic in the world. It enchanted people across the lands with exuberant sights of fancy and tales of brave heroes and great sacrifice. And most of that magic came from a studio called Pixar. While their tracked record is still a cut above most, it’s easy to immediately think “It’ll never be as good or inventive as their originals,” at almost anything the studio has released post 2010.

However, there is something to be said for a tale that might recycle its overall plot in favor of cultivating a gooey emotional center. Those big beating hearts at the center of their films are what make most audiences put their butts in seats still to this day. That’s what “Onward” coasts on and what makes it a cut above.

The urban fantasy stylings, while it may be “Bright” by way of Disney, are what visually set the world apart though. Thankfully, while they may not be anything particularly new nowadays, writer/director Dan Scanlon (“Monsters University,” “Mater and the Ghostlight”) makes sure that these elements are more than window dressings.

Lighting is a huge wonder in this film, with neon signs and streetlamps juxtaposing brilliantly against cobblestone and the green haze of enchanted woods. The urban fantasy elements factor into every facet of the plot and make this feel like a tale that could only be told via this vibrant and fairly goofy animated world. It also wears the D&D inspirations on its sleeve, just likes its brotherly heart, and it’s all the better for it.

Tom Holland (“The Lost City of Z,” “Spider-Man: Far From Home”) and Chris Pratt (“Guardians of the Galaxy,” “her”) have excellent chemistry together as brothers Ian and Barley and that chemistry and emotional connection makes for the film’s biggest and best quality. There is no single moment wherein the love between these brothers does not seep off the screen. Scanlon doesn’t make their journey easy yet doesn’t fall into typical tropes like “the liar revealed” or “if we only just talked to each other.”

The bumps feel organically navigated, and neither feels too much like a stereotype. Yes, Ian is nervous and shy, yet he isn’t just as shy at home or around family and his desire to break free of his emotional crutches is seen throughout. Likewise, Barley isn’t just a bumbling oaf, as he has his own set of skills and is just as smart as his brother, yet in different ways.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus (“Seinfeld,” “Veep”) and Octavia Spencer (“Hidden Figures,” “Snowpiercer”) don’t get material as emotionally rich but are still very funny. Spencer’s Corey has her journey played mostly for laughs and while there’s clearly the inklings of an emotional breakthrough for Dreyfus’s Laurel, the mother of Barley and Ian, it just doesn’t have the same amount of screen time associated with it. Shoutouts go to Mel Rodriguez (“The Last Man on Earth,” “Overboard (2018)”) as Colt Bronco, one of the best mostly comedic characters Pixar has had in a long while, as well as Kyle Bornheimer (“Marriage Story,” “Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made”) and Tracy Ullman (“The Tracey Ullman Show,” “Small Time Crooks”) as the masters of doing great work with minimal screen time.

The film’s biggest struggles are completely plot based, as it does two things that are pretty annoying and make the plot much more obvious for attentive moviegoers. There’s a particular method in which the plot of the film is effectively telegraphed within the first 20 minutes, and while by the end it manages to be turned on its head, it doesn’t save the fact that it ends up resulting in a much more predictable adventure than what otherwise could have been.

Also, the film’s last 5 minutes seem as if they were added in after the film was already completed, as they serve more as putting all the ducks in a row in too short of a fashion, with some callbacks that feel incredibly weak compared to the ones implemented earlier in the film.

All of these issues are easy to point out after the fact because the thing that distracts the audience from them, the chemistry and love that radiates from the film’s center, only exists while watching the film. It’s the eternal struggle, as these issues are only truly apparent after the film is over, not during it.

None of these issues could mask what is a beautiful and emotional adventure from Pixar. While more formulaic than the studio’s other works, “Onward” knows where to put its time and energy to best make the emotional arcs work as opposed to creating something wholly original. That’s where is succeeds and passes with flying colors.

Only time will tell where exactly “Onward” falls in comparison with the other Pixar works, but as a film on its own, this is an emotionally powerful and gorgeous realized adventure choked full of clichés and charm, making for something big, goofy, warm and inviting. It’s also makes it virtually impossible to leave the theatre without your heart in high spirits. 4/5

First Cow - Review

 

If you know the name Kelly Reichardt (“Meek’s Cutoff,” “Night Moves”), you know exactly what kind of movie “First Cow” is going to be. The screenwriter/director has made a career out of telling stories set in the American Midwest, in various different time periods, and this is no exception.

There’s a thick fog that seems to linger over every aspect of “First Cow.” The sets, dialogue, characters, events. It all has a very authentic feeling, one of those films where it genuinely comes across as if the actors and director were the only ones on set. It lives and dies on its atmosphere, and luckily Reichardt has injected a wry sense of wit and critique into this gold rush era tale.

John Magaro (“Not Fade Away,” “The Umbrella Academy”) stars as Cookie, a former indentured cook who just wants to make people happy and serve them good food. He has an apathetic nature to him that just begs you to fall in love with him. His warmth and kind nature shines through the entire film, and his gentle soul is simply a delight. He’s the kind of character that makes you smile simply by smiling himself.

His friend and business partner King-Lu, played by Orion Lee (“Only You,” “Chimerica”), is equally interesting. He’s far more blunt than Cookie, and his is the eye for business. Yet, as much as they disagree on the reasons behind their business, their love for each other is real. It has been a long time since a friendship has been portrayed so honestly and easily as it is here.

Yes, while King-Lu wants to make money, he also wants people to buy their food so his friend can continue to make it, and this is absolutely clear. As much as Cookie just wants to cook for people, it takes King-Lu to bring him around and help him become a bit more outgoing, and you feel for these two every moment they’re together.

The supporting cast helps maintain Reichardt’s somewhat serious, somewhat comedic tone authentically. Toby Jones (“Infamous,” “Captain America: The First Avenger”) plays a British aristocrat always a few steps behind everyone else and Ewen Bremner (“Trainspotting,” “Wonder Woman (2017)”) plays a somewhat bumbling and self-aggrandizing Scottish guardsman for Jones’s aristocrat. They’re excellent, helping to maintain the tonal shifts as the film moves from a slightly bent heist story to a more serious tale of survival.

This is where the biggest trouble comes with reviewing a film like “First Cow.” It is a slow film, often times with characters simply going through the motions and living their lives. We aren’t even introduced to what the central concept of the film is for about 20-25 minutes. And yet, despite the deliberately slow pace, things never feel like a drag.

It might be because of Reichardt’s script or just the chemistry between Magaro and Lee, but this is simply one of those films that fun to watch because you want to spend time with the main characters. You grow to care about them. It virtually fails to provide anything resembling a traditional “plot”, but it nevertheless tells their tale efficiently, even if it does lack a real ending.

Maybe this was the point, and it seems like it very well might have been. It’s a gorgeous looking film regardless of plot however. The forests and gold rush era setting dazzle with their authenticity and it becomes a nice respite to a time of simpler visual aesthetics. Cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt (“Meek’s Cutoff,” “mid90s”) uses the 4:3 aspect ratio simply and effectively, blending some great shot construction and depth work with the dream-like oldness of the setting.

“First Cow” is a slow film that somehow doesn’t feel slow thanks to the chemistry between its lead actors. Its easy to nitpick it apart, but what Reichardt has delivered is an enjoyable tale with dreamlike qualities and a non-standard plot that just wants to be about why people love food and why capitalism can be a killer. It’s a quaint film, nothing less and nothing more, and its all the better for it. 4/5