So I don't know about you, but I could do with a bit of cheering up this festive season. This year more than any other, escapism has been high in-demand, and while the ball landed squarely in television's court this year, there have still been a number of standout films worth celebrating from the desolate remains of what was once a pretty promising 2020 release slate: the shiniest of the cinematic gems that kept us going through the strife.
Last year's rules are still in play, so only films that begun their wide UK release in 2020, and while I did make a reasonable effort to catchup, there will of course be films I missed (although I think this year's list is pretty agreeable). And if you're intereseted to see how the rest of this year's films stacked up, you can peruse the full ranked list here.
5. Portrait of a Lady on Fire - Céline Sciamma
Perhaps a little lower on the list than most people would have gone for, but hey it's still on the list, what do you want from me. This film seems to have really struck a chord with a lot of people, and while I did really enjoy it, I probably should preface that I don't quite love this film as others do, or at least not yet. My opinion may climb on a rewatch, but for now, Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a really solid fifth place.
In any character-focused romantic drama, it's the acting and direction that make or break the film, and I think a lot of Portrait's success is down to these two crucial elements. Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel are phenomenal as the leads: their passion for each other is so believable, and their interactions throughout the film are brimming with a really genuine chemistry that's often quite rare in the genre.
Céline Sciamma's direction, too, pulls all the elements together to create a film that feels surprisingly relaxed, even calming at times with its beautiful beach-side setting and small, intimate scale. And yet beneath it all, every scene is loaded with emotion, both joyous and melancholy alike, be it in subtle subtextual flickers or in powerful frissonic creschendos. The final scene in particular left me with a bittersweet pit in my stomach, and even, almost, some tears.
So any reason why it's not higher up the list? No, not really. Potentially a bit of overhype may have crept in, as I only managed to see this last month and I've been hearing about this film since at least February. I mentioned at the top, I suspect my thoughts may improve further on a rewatch, and it's certainly something I'm looking forward to. Now I just have to wait for the Criterion bluray to get a region B release... (pretty please). 8/10, High Recommendation
4. Tenet - Christopher Nolan
Tenet will probably end up making a lot of other people's lists just out of sheer lack of competition, but even in a busier year I think I'd find it difficult to leave it off. It's without a doubt the weakest film here objectively speaking, but something about it just keeps drawing me back in: I've really not stopped thinking about it since I first saw it, and that was four months ago. We have discussed Tenet on the podcast, and I will be doing a big ol' post going into more detail on my thoughts at some point next year, so for now I'll try my best to summarise.
There are a lot of reasons to dislike Tenet, and I'd probably agree with most of them. The characterisation is laughable, in fact we don't so much have characters as we have cogs to turn the plot. We have a villain who wants to destroy the world because he's evil, and a man who wants to stop him because he's been told to: it's all a bit lacking in emotion and human motivation. The plot and time travel mechanics are frequently obtuse and either underexplained or not given enough time to be taken in, and yet the film constantly patronises its audience for not being able to keep up, in a way that's quite reminiscent of Primer, a film which thoroughly pissed me off for this exact reason.
And yet, Tenet also has some of Nolan's best action sequences yet (and that's saying something), both on smaller scale scenes like reversed one-on-one brawls, all the way up to a for-real plane crash and a truly breathtaking truck heist. Underneath it all, we have what might be my favourite film score since Blade Runner 2049, maybe even better than. From The Mandalorian to this, Ludwig Göransson is fast becoming my new favourite film composer, and here his soundtrack pulses with a frantic energy that pushes every action scene into overdrive, imbued with backwards rhythms and ticking clocks and looped sirens; it's the Dunkirk score on crack, an ever-present reminder that time is running out and every precarious, death-defying scenario could bring everyhing crashing down. POSTERITY, 747, TRUCKS IN PLACE, FAST CARS, RAINY NIGHT IN TALLINN. If you haven't already, go listen to these tracks and you'll see exactly what I mean.
Tenet is everything you've come to associate with Nolan's films, but pushed to the extreme, both the good and the bad. The result is a film that I, and many others, have found a lot of issues with, and yet I just can't ignore how much this film excites me every time I think about it. That's got to be worth something, right? 8/10, High Recommendation
3. Soul - Pete Docter
A pretty late entry in the year, but it counts. While Pixar has made their fair share of mediocre sequels and Good Dinosaurs over the past few years, they still have the capacity to deliver phenomenal animated features, and Soul is up there with their best.
A comparison to Inside Out, director Pete Docter's last film, is pretty inevitable, as on paper both films are on different sides of the same coin: one exploring the human mind and one exploring the human...well, soul. It's not really fair to judge either film as a comparison to the other, since they are doing their own distinct things, but since I did rewatch Inside Out this Christmas period anyway, I figured I should probably mention it.
I still really enjoy Inside Out and it retains a lot of that emotional power it had on my first viewing, but I do like Soul more. For me, a big part of it was that I went into Soul expecting a big sad moment like in Inside Out and other recent Pixars like Coco and Onward, and was pleasantly surprised when I realised Soul didn't have one and, more to the point, didn't need one.
Soul is a lot more of a relaxed, easy-going experience, and I actually really appreciate that. In some ways it feels like a more mature film: there's almost something quite transparent about the way Inside Out tries to pluck at your heartstrings, while Soul has realised that it doesn't need to be emotionally devastating to be profound or memorable. In fact, despite dealing with concepts of life and death and even the meaning of existence, Soul's story feels very low-key and almost unburduned by the weight of its existential concepts. Instead, Soul's message is all about appreciating the small details of life and the value of simply being, and existing in the world.
There's also some gorgeous animation on display, particularly in the Great Before, where entirey metaphysical concepts are rendered visually in a way that live action could never even attempt. Even the Great Beyond, a relatively simplistic design inspired by A Matter of Life and Death, through its animation and sound design mananges to fully communicate a truly unnerving existential dread while still maintaining a beautiful, yet disquieting simplcity not unlike a black hole.
Soul is exactly the kind of meaningful, optimistic content we all need right now, and it made me want to just lie down in a field somewhere and take
in the smell of the grass and the currents of wind moving across my
face and listen to the birds sing in the distance. Which was quite a shame
considering the circumstances. 9/10, High Recommendation
2. The Lighthouse - Robert Eggers
Man, it feels like I watched this film in a different era, let alone a different year. I saw this for the first time when I met a friend for the afternoon in London: we saw it with about forty other people crammed into the tiny screen at BFI Southbank centre, a sold-out screening. Inconceivable now, but back then it was just a normal year.Considering how 2020's release slate was all but wiped out from April onwards, it's probabaly no surprise that the top two slots came from the first quarter of the year, which I suppose is unusual considering often it's the end of the year when the big hitters are released. 2020 became less a year of anticipating which film would shine brightest and more if there was anything left to compete with these early champions that set the bar so high.
The first of these was The Lighthouse, which quite prophetically is all about being confined to a small building and isolated from the rest of the world. Broadly speaking a horror, but thats proabably a debatable point depending on how you define the genre, and The Lighthouse kinda straddles several genres anyway.
The best way to decribe it is a film of textures. The movietone ratio and black and white photography go hand-in-hand with the production design and period dialogue to give the film this air of scratchy authenticity, that only amplifies the opressive atmosphere created by the purgatorial setting. Special mention also goes to the film's haunting, nightmarish soundscape that drenches every scene with an encroaching malaise: the roar of the waves, the creaking of wooden floorboards, the thundering fog horn, the screams of seagulls.
Together, it creates a powerful paranoia that imbues every scene with symbolic suggestion. Is it just an argument about cooking? Just a fight with a seagull? Just a lighthouse, even? Or is there something more mythical at work beneath it all. Soon the lines between reality and insanity are blurring, and you know nothing good can possibly come from this as the characters hurtle towards their fates.
The Lighthouse is rich in potential meaning, but while there is plenty of room for audiences to discuss and debate their intepretations, the film still works on a literal level as a tale of deteriorating lucidity amongst men trapped at sea, so while it's still definitly closer to art-house than mainstream cinema, it retains a level of accessibility that not only endears itself to general audiences, but will keep them coming back for more. 9/10, High Recommendation
1. Parasite - Bong Joon-Ho
Surprising absolutely no-one. I mean, even if Corona hadn't happened and this year's original lineup of films proceeded as planned, I'd still be willing to wager Parasite would be sitting here on top. Seemingly every viewer and critic on the planet has unanimously adored this film and as far as I'm concerned it's with very good reason, because it's really not that often that a film as finely crafted as this one comes around. Not only is it a masterfully-assembled, genre-defying work of cinema, it's even managed the rare triumph of being accessible and appealing enough to the western masses to find mainstream success without sacrificing any of its artisitc integrity at all, instead merely telling a well-told story that is recognisable and translatable across all nations and still exciting at the same time, to the point that even people who don't watch foreign/subtitled films gave Parasite a shot. Even the Acadamy loved it enough to give it the first ever Best Picture award for a non-english language film, and they're not exactly known for their diverse taste in film.
I do insist on keeping these top fives spoiler free, and so if you want to hear some more in-depth and specific comments I have on the film, you can watch our Parasite discussion from the podcast here, and if you haven't seen Parasite yet you absolutely should check it out, no questions asked. In the meantime, I'll do the best I can here.
There really are very few things to speak ill of, and overall it's one of those beautiful experiences where the more you think about any given detail, the more meaning and intricacy and subtext you discover. The one thing I will say is that on the second watch the film becomes a little unbalanced pacing wise; after quite a significant event which feels like it should be more of a midpoint, we go almost immediatly into the climax, which still works but considering how fresh and drastic the shift in status quo is, it feels like maybe a little more down time inbetween these moments, perhaps playing with the new precarious scenario, could help break up the tension a bit and even out the last half hour, pacing-wise (Hopefully that made sense for the people who've seen the film). But this is a minor quibble on an otherwise near-impeccable product. Any other element you care to name is phenomenal. The ensemble cast? Fantastic. Cinematography and editing? Beautiful. Production design? Exquisite. The writing? *chef's kiss* And at the centre of it all is a director wielding complete elegant mastery over his craft.
Bong Joon-Ho is up there with Park Chan-Wook as one of the finest directors of South Korean cinema, and while Parasite is far from his first hit, this definitly feels like a consolidation of all his past achievements into one magnum opus that's put him squarely in the spotlight. And now the world watches and waits for his next move with breathless anticipation. 9/10, High Recommendation
And so the gaping maw of 2021 lays ahead, promising more misery and frustration, no doubt. For me, this year will be a game of 'how many of the delayed 2020 films are gonna get pushed back to 2022', with a bonus round of 'count the dying breaths of the golden age of streaming'.
Well, who knows what state the world and the film industry will be in this time next year. It's an incredibly hard time to be optimistic, but I'm sure no matter what happens, we'll all find our own ways to pull through, and the ever-enduring human spirit will defeat the roughest of what the year has to offer.
For what it's worth, I wish all of you readers a happy and prosperous 2021, and a great big thank you as always for reading (and listening), and I hope you'll return for many more ramblings in the new year!
