The Bad Guy's Top 50 Movies of 2015

[The Bad Guy]

20. Son of Saul

I often purchase a hot tea before my movie's showtime. Since it's too hot for my palate at first, I'll let it cool down during the trailers and into the opening of the film. But when Son of Saul ended, I looked down and noticed I hadn't taken one sip of my tea. It had been beside me for the full two hours and it was bitter cold. That's never happened to me before. Son of Saul may not be my favorite film of 2015, but I can't deny that it made a strong impression on me. Even half an hour later, I was walking around a convenience store in a bit of a daze, not knowing what to buy.

I don't want to say too much about the plot, since much of the film is filled with tension and uncertainty. The basic plot point is that our protagonist, Saul, a Hungarian Sonderkommando in Auschwitz. As a Sonderkommando, his duties involve helping the Nazis exterminate incoming victims, procure their valuables and eventually dispose of the bodies. Since the Nazis didn't want to do this sort of grunt work themselves, they force these men to do their bidding for them. We meet Saul at a point where he's been doing this for quite some time, and he appears to be at his mental breaking point. After witnessing the death of a young boy he claims is his son, he makes it his mission to give his body a proper Jewish burial. How that plays out and in what way is better left for you to find out.

One of the first things you notice about Son of Saul is that it has unique cinematography. The focal point and framing are very close to our main character, this looming third person perspective stays pretty constant throughout the film's running time. That, combined with the aspect ratio, gives the film a claustrophobic feel. We're meant to see everything through this character, so even when it's apparent that there's death and mayhem going on all around, we only see it happening from the edges. All of this makes it easy to forget that you're watching a movie.

However, just because we don't see a lot of the atrocities in wide sweeping shots doesn't mean that we're being shielded from the horror. We're shown just enough that there's never any doubt about what's happening. If you have a weak constitution or just don't feel like exposing yourself to this nightmare scenario, then maybe Son of Saul isn't for you. As I said earlier, I watch a lot of films and it's not often something shakes me up as much as this did. No other film about the holocaust has ever haunted me like this one has. The only other film with comparable subject matter that had a similar impact was Lu Chuan's City of Life and Death. It's impressive that this is László Nemes' first film, since it feels like the work of seasoned professional.

19. The Revenant

Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu, The Revenant is based on the Michael Punke novel by the same name. It tells the (mostly) true story of Hugh Glass, a frontiersman in 1823 South Dakota. If you're not already familiar with Hugh Glass or the novel, then I'd suggest keeping it that way. I personally went into the film not knowing it was based on history or a novel and I felt this added a lot to my enjoyment of the film. The only thing I will say about the plot is that it is a brutal story of man's struggle to survive in an unforgiving wilderness.

When I say brutal, by the way, I'm not kidding around. This is one of the most intensely violent and uncompromisingly harsh films I've seen in recent memory. The film never shies away from showing us graphic images of violence to people, violence to animals, or the lasting effects injuries can have on people if left untreated. One theater in my area even had a large sign at the ticket window, warning patrons of just how intense it gets. I just say this to let you know that if you're deciding on a film with a friend or a spouse who can't stomach violence, then this is probably one you're going to want to skip or watch on your own. For me, I really appreciated how the film embraced the hardships of the natural world. It gives you a sense of just how dangerous nature can be, while simultaneously showing how beautiful and awe-inspiring the open wilderness is.

Despite strong performance by Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hardy, the real star of this film is Emmanuel 'Chivo' Lubezki. If you're a movie person then you've probably heard of Lubezki, as he's one of the world's greatest living cinematographers and it should be obvious to anyone that watches The Revenant. I can't stress enough how breathtaking the cinematography is in this film. If you were lucky enough to see it on an RPX or IMAX screen, then congratulations, because it was truly epic. Making it all the more impressive is that there was no studio lighting used here. Chivo chose to use the light of the sun and the occasional use of fire, instead. This is insanely difficult to do and it created all sorts of complications for the production, because the actors would have to rehearse a scene throughout the day, knowing that they'd only have a very limited window of time to shoot it for real. All of this pays off, however, because The Revenant is one of the most beautiful looking films in modern memory.

Despite its dreamlike sequences and highly artistic production values, The Revenant is telling a fairly simple story. I'm not saying this as a criticism, since a lot of great films and even great storytelling comes from taking a simple premise and doing it well. There are very long stretches in the film where there are no words, but the audience can follow everything that's going on without any difficulty. It's an emotionally investing journey and one that is vicariously exhilarating and even exhausting at times. This is incredibly ambitious film making used to tell a gripping, minimalist plot.

[dreamdead]

One of the things that was especially resonant for me with Brooklyn is how each character makes logical choices and no one is really demonized. When Eilis returns to Ireland, we see the draw that the country has for her precisely because everyone is trying to reach out and aid her—although there is a degree of selfishness in their actions, they also simply believe that there’s no reason why Eilis wouldn’t desire to stay in her native country. In that sense, Eilis is quietly indicted for her attempt to erase her own history she's developed in America.

It’s a film that appeals to the quietly memorable Merchant Ivory productions of my youth. It’s got a clear vision and it does swing for emotional transcendence at times, in ways that can seem saccharine rather than earned, but it is phenomenal in everything that it achieves for me. That final scene is simply so powerful.

My wife’s finishing up the novel and saw TóibÃ*n talk about it back in January. Apparently there’s an extended bit where Eilis encounters African Americans, and it’s a shame that the film didn’t make time to explore that angle, but I’ll likely read it over the summer and try to figure out its overall affect in the character arc.
--
I’ve lost a little bit of interest in Room over the past month. Up until the overbearing score and camera pull-out, it generally works. That said, while I’m tolerant of overbearing poetic voiceovers—as a devotee of Malick I have to be—the juxtaposition between Tremblay’s voiceovers and the other scenes stand out a little bit too consciously. The film orchestrates some interesting dynamics, charting his ability to more readily adapt to his new reality over Brie Larson’s character. The film worked remarkably well when they were in the room. After they escape, the film works to find an anchor and while the actors find theirs, the film becomes a bit too polite for me. I should note that there was something wholly powerful in William H. Macy’s character. The fact that it’s so short in the film was a bit perplexing, since that dimensionality didn’t come through in other spots.
--
Spring break is coming up for me, so I’m hoping to get to Sicario, Bone Tomahawk, and The Forbidden Room next week. Halfway through Barbara right now, in response to your earlier query, and it’s not quite as revelatory as Phoenix, but it’s still good. We’ll see how it sticks its landing.

[Dukefrukem]

I'm not sure Bridge of Spies would be in my top 60 movies of 2015.

[The Bad Guy]

One of the things that was especially resonant for me with Brooklyn is how each character makes logical choices and no one is really demonized. When Eilis returns to Ireland, we see the draw that the country has for her precisely because everyone is trying to reach out and aid her—although there is a degree of selfishness in their actions, they also simply believe that there’s no reason why Eilis wouldn’t desire to stay in her native country. In that sense, Eilis is quietly indicted for her attempt to erase her own history she's developed in America.

It’s a film that appeals to the quietly memorable Merchant Ivory productions of my youth. It’s got a clear vision and it does swing for emotional transcendence at times, in ways that can seem saccharine rather than earned, but it is phenomenal in everything that it achieves for me. That final scene is simply so powerful.

My wife’s finishing up the novel and saw TóibÃ*n talk about it back in January. Apparently there’s an extended bit where Eilis encounters African Americans, and it’s a shame that the film didn’t make time to explore that angle, but I’ll likely read it over the summer and try to figure out its overall affect in the character arc.
--
I’ve lost a little bit of interest in Room over the past month. Up until the overbearing score and camera pull-out, it generally works. That said, while I’m tolerant of overbearing poetic voiceovers—as a devotee of Malick I have to be—the juxtaposition between Tremblay’s voiceovers and the other scenes stand out a little bit too consciously. The film orchestrates some interesting dynamics, charting his ability to more readily adapt to his new reality over Brie Larson’s character. The film worked remarkably well when they were in the room. After they escape, the film works to find an anchor and while the actors find theirs, the film becomes a bit too polite for me. I should note that there was something wholly powerful in William H. Macy’s character. The fact that it’s so short in the film was a bit perplexing, since that dimensionality didn’t come through in other spots.
--
Spring break is coming up for me, so I’m hoping to get to Sicario, Bone Tomahawk, and The Forbidden Room next week. Halfway through Barbara right now, in response to your earlier query, and it’s not quite as revelatory as Phoenix, but it’s still good. We’ll see how it sticks its landing.

I also liked how Brooklyn didn't really have an antagonist, with the exception of the nasty Irish shopkeeper. I think that even those moments that appear saccharine are bolstered by Ronan's performance. Some of the stuff does seem manipulative, but I didn't care too much when experiencing it through the actress' vantage point. I'd be curious to know how the subplot with the African Americans impacts the novel's story, or if there was a reason why it was omitted from the film. Perhaps there are some DVD commentary or special features which will address this?

Your criticism of Room feeling too "polite" in its second half is one I can empathize with. I imagine that I had less of a problem with it, since the story has to walk a fine line between playing it too safe and becoming too sensationalized. While I'll admit that it definitely played it closer to the former, I still felt like it was handled quite well. Personally, I'm not sure what having William H. Macy's character around more would have accomplished after the dinner scene. That moment was admittedly powerful, but it also conveyed everything that needed to be said in that one sequence.

I'll be curious to know what you think of those three films. What did you ultimately think of Barbara's ending / the film as a whole?

I'm not sure Bridge of Spies would be in my top 60 movies of 2015.

Fair enough

I had seen that there were quite a lot of mixed opinions about Bridge of Spies on this forum. Clearly, I'm very much a fan of the movie, but whether someone told me it was below average or their favorite movie of the year wouldn't surprise me (both have happened so far). For whatever reason, it seems to be one of 2015's most polarizing films.

[The Bad Guy]

18. Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter

When I first heard about the synopsis for Kumiko, I became incredibly intrigued. The story is about a Japanese woman who becomes convinced that Steve Buscemi's buried treasure from Fargo is real. A quiet introvert stuck in an unsatisfying job, Kumiko (brilliantly acted by Rinko Kinkuchi) begins to spend all of her free time studying clues as to the treasure's whereabouts. Eventually, she begins to plan her trip to North Dakota. Director David Zellner mentioned that part of the appeal of this was the notion of a 21st century treasure hunter. It seems like an antiquated idea, putting together a collection of clues and maps in the hopes of finding buried treasure. The film really plays on this idea, and much of it feels mythical or fantastic.

One of the first things I noticed about this movie is that it has a great eye. What could have easily been a by-the-numbers film opens with a gorgeous shot of Kumiko walking along a beach and another as she enters a mysterious cave. The cinematographer, Sean Porter, is able to consistently get great shots in a variety of environments (perhaps why this was why they chose not to release a DVD, making it a Blu Ray exclusive). This is paired with a very good score by the Octopus Project, adding in music that feels appropriately weird. Another thing you notice early on is that the film has a clever sense of humor. The comedy isn't aggressive, but it's consistently effective. All of these stylistic aspects help add to the experience, making an already interesting concept feel even more original and daring.

At its core, I feel that Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter is a movie about belief. Our heroine is a recluse and introvert by choice, yet she increasingly finds herself unhappy with her life. By finding the old Fargo VHS tape in the cave, the idea of this treasure begins to give her a sense of purpose that had been missing. By pouring all her time and energy into finding the treasure, she desperately needs it to be real. But even if the treasure doesn't exist, is Kumiko better off pursuing the fiction than wallowing in her misery? The story is able to show both sides of this without ever explicitly commenting on it, something I really appreciated. It's the sort of film that lingers in your memory long after you've seen it. If nothing else, it should provide for some worthwhile post-viewing discussion and analysis. I'm very excited for whatever the Zellner brothers do next.

17. The Gift

Easily one of the biggest surprises of 2015, The Gift seemed to be destined for failure after its disappointing and misleading trailer. Thankfully, I don't watch trailers, so I immediately became intrigued by this movie that kept getting stellar review scores and internet buzz. All of the hype is warranted in this case, as The Gift is one of the best mystery/thrillers in a long time.

Joel Edgerton wrote, directed and stars in this film. It's unusual for an artist to be involved in this many layers of a production, and it's often an indication that the work is going to be very bad (The Room) or very good (Citizen Kane). In this case, Edgerton has done a great job with all three aspects. Edgerton's character of Gordo is creepy but mysterious, at first appearing not to understand because social decorum, but as time goes in he starts to feel menacing. For instance, there are genuinely frightening moments where Rebecca Hall's character, Robyn, is alone in the house and you can't tell if she's being stalked or not. As the movie goes on, the stakes and tension get ratcheted up. I don't want to reveal specifics, but as I uncovered more information I began to reconsider my initial assumptions. I genuinely couldn't see where the story was going at times and I loved that. This is a wickedly smart film that draws you in with intrigue and misdirection.

Those expecting a conventional horror film are going to be disappointed, since that's not what The Gift is. Instead, this is a low-octane and pulse-pounding thriller. It takes its time setting things up, but once the tension and mystery kick in you won't want to take an intermission. Just as its setting up the suspense, the film is also introducing its themes at a slow but steady pace. The story asks us to consider how well we can really know somebody, as well as the lasting impact of words and ideas on a person's life. It may even cause you to look back and scrutinize your own past.

The three leading performances in this movie are each impressive. I loved Joel Edgerton and Rebecca Hall, though the most noteworthy performance is that of Jason Bateman's Simon. Bateman is someone who has been consistently type-cast as the straight, deadpan guy in comedies. As a result, he's the kind of actor that audiences may have a hard time seeing in a different role. Yet very early on in the film, I stopped seeing the guy from Arrested Development and only saw the character he was portraying. This is a potentially game-changing performance for him, as it shows he has tremendous range.

16. Inside Out

A lot of Pixar's top talent has been getting plucked away by Disney, lately. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the 2013 hit Frozen was worked on by a lot of key ex-Pixar minds. Meanwhile, the studio has been stuck in a bit of a rut since Toy Story 3. The only original concept they've introduced since then was Brave, a film that was met with mixed reactions from critics and audiences alike. The rest of their works have been sequels to franchises like Monsters Inc. or Cars, movies that may seem like perfectly adequate animated fare if not for the studio's stalwart reputation. Yet somehow, Pixar managed to produce another incredible film in 2015.

Directed by Pete Docter and Ronnie del Carmen, Inside Out is about the emotions that rule our consciousness. If a movie about psychology seems a bit much for younger audiences, you're not wrong. Like many of Pixar's best films, this is one that is primarily for older audiences, yet it's disguised as a colorful animated roller coaster that parents can take their kids to. But also like Pixar's best works, this is one that kids will love. Some children may not be able to comprehend the film's mature themes of psychology and fading youth, but I imagine they'll be too wrapped up in the excitement to care. By the end of the film, I'd also wager that many of theme will have picked up on some of the basic themes, like how you can't just be happy all the time and that each of these emotions has a role to play in our lives.

While some have expressed dismay at how the film works outside of the control station, it's pretty hard to come up with strong criticisms of this one. Just about everything in this is done with skill and invention. It's brilliantly cast, the animation is meticulous, the script is intelligent and surprisingly emotional at times. There are a few moments in this film where it's difficult to fight back tears. This is destined to become a Pixar classic that can hold its own against heavy hitters like Wall-E or Up. If you're a fan of the studio, then I imagine you've already seen it. If you haven't, then what are you waiting for?

[The Bad Guy]

15. Mustang

Directed and co-written by Deniz Gamze Ergüven, Mustang tells the story of five sisters living in Northern Turkey. One day, the girls are playing innocently on the beach with some boys from school. But when they get home, their neighbor has informed their grandmother and uncle of what happened, which is misinterpreted as sexually deviant. In the blink of an eye, their lives change forever. They are increasingly isolated from the outside world and trained to become proper wives in arranged marriages. The house slowly becomes a prison for the five sisters, whose electronic communications are cut off and their windows become fortified with steel bars.

One of the things I loved about this film was how genuine these girls felt as characters and siblings. You really get a sense of who these young women are, especially since they live in a bubble where their sisterhood means so much to them. It's also an aspect that makes the film very re-watchable, as it's interesting to go back and examine each of the girls different personalities and how they fit in to the group. The most memorable of the sisters is the youngest, Lale. There's a palpable sense of resiliency that the group has in spite of their circumstances, but it's Lale who embodies this the most. She's the most free spirited of the bunch, and as the story moves inevitably towards the arranged marriages of her older sisters, she is determined not to follow them down that same path.

I got the sense that Ergüven was trying to educate viewers about the societal hardships that go on in this Muslim communities. But, more than that, I got the feeling that it was a story that was intended to anger and emotionally frustrate viewers like myself. Even now as I'm writing this blurb, I find myself getting emotional thinking back on the film. It's a melancholic and quietly devastating story, though it's not without optimism or even humor. We're shown the broad range of these girls' experiences, which can come in the form of adventure or kinship, but also in scenes which are heartbreaking to watch. Like the film's title would imply, this is ultimately a story of perseverance through difficult circumstances. Mustang seems to be arguing that freedom is not a given for young women in these environments, but that it can and should be fought for.

14. Boy and the World

A story without any dialogue, Boy and the World is a beautiful tapestry of animation and ideas. It's immediately apparent how imaginative the film is, as we see Cuca frolicking in a wildly colorful backdrop of nature. Despite the simplicity of the hand drawn characters, the aesthetic blends will with the geometry and creativity of the world around them. As we journey from the natural landscape to the industrial world, there is never a shortage of memorable images and places. A pond transitions to a plethora of plant life, a train winds its way through a pure white backdrop, and fireworks light up the night sky over a stadium. All of this is paired with a memorable soundtrack of recurring samba music and Brazilian hip hop.

Alê Abreu's film unfolds like visual poetry. Since what little dialogue there is here is spoken in Portuguese and played backwards, it intentionally comes off as gibberish. It's up to the audience to make sense of Cuca's journey. His life upended when his family moves from the country to the city, we see him embark on this quest to reunite his family. Yet as he continues on this path, the story starts to sink deeper into the rabbit hole. It becomes less clear what his goals are as the world becomes more daunting and complex. We see the vastness of the city lights and the enormity of the industrial operations. As time goes on, Cuca befriends a mysterious stranger who becomes his companion through this whirlwind of sight of sound.

Some of the movie's intentions are obvious, like its love of nature and aversion to environmental destruction. These are played out explicitly, even using real world footage to highlight these themes. But other aspects of the film are more poetic and mysterious. It's not always readily apparent what's happening in terms of the literal plot, so when aspects of the story are finally revealed they can be emotionally gratifying or even devastating. I was always engrossed by the world building and vibe of the film. Yet it wasn't until I started to contextualize everything that the film elevated itself into something great. I genuinely loved this film, and as the credits came on the screen with the closing music, I simply sat there in quiet appreciation until the screen went dark.

[Spinal]

I recall one scene where Amy walks out of her apartment and we can see the flashing lights of the cameras envelope her so completely that the screen becomes a torrent of white light. I'm not exaggerating when I say that it's a terrifying scene.

Yes, completely horrifying. As I was watching, I was wondering whether the documentary team had added any effects to achieve that nightmarish atmosphere. I don't really mind either way. If it's untouched, then that's just sickeningly sad.

Also, I love the picture you chose. That was my favorite moment of the movie. All the image drops away and for a few seconds, you see a genuine, real person. It's notable that by the time she gets around to the acceptance speech, the bravado is back in full effect.

[The Bad Guy]

13. Man from Reno

Directed and co-written by David Boyle, Man from Reno is a stellar mystery/thriller that flew under the radar last year. Man from Reno was made on a Kickstarter budget of less than $55,000 and despite getting little in the way of distribution, the film has been a hit in terms of critical response. It just goes to show that a solid script and a talented group of people can do a lot with a little.

The story involves a Japanese crime writer who finds herself in the midst of a real life crime mystery. Along the way, she's assisted by an American detective as they hope to untangle this yarn. It's hard to say more, since spoiling a mystery plot would be a bad idea. But if you're a fan of noir detective stories, this is one that you'll likely love. It's an interesting blend of classic styles in a modern film, feeling rooted in its genre's aesthetic and tone. For example, its San Francisco setting is shot in present day, but it feels reminiscent of Hitchcock's Vertigo. Despite the retro feel, this is also not your run-of-the-mill genre screenplay. For reasons that I obviously can't get into, the mystery felt fresh and even daring at times.

Despite its numerous twists and turns, the film is definitely a slow burn. Unless you're a professional detective, you probably won't have enough clues to piece everything together until the film's last act. I personally enjoy stumbling around in darkness and trying to make sense of the story, but the movie is asking the audience to be attentive and patient. When everything is more or less concluded, I imagine a lot of people are going to walk away feeling it was very much worth the wait. This is a film that has a terrific ending, one that floored me and lingered in my mind long after seeing it. It also makes for an interesting re-watch, because once you've mastered the plot you can go back and see the story play out in a new light. It's a shame they don't make more films like this nowadays.

12. Gett: The Trial of Viviane Ansalem

Shlomi Elkabetz and Ronit Elkabetz's Gett plays out as a lengthy legal proceeding in a rabbinical court, one that is tied up in years of litigation and legal bureaucracy. This may sound like a hard sell for a movie, as audiences can be assured there is no romantic intrigue or action sequences here. Much of the film plays out through dialogue in the same small, bland looking courtroom. Despite all of this, Gett is absolutely riveting to watch.

Part of what makes the film work so well is its script. There are brilliant verbal exchanges between these characters, but the dialogue also takes a backseat to quite a few dramatic pauses where a person's expression (or lack thereof) can speak volumes. Considering the vast amount of time the story covers, it's surprising that everything feels fast paced. This is because the script has no fat on it, deciding to ignore the slice of life moments that take place outside the courtroom. Instead, the film will simply cut to the next scheduled court appearance months into the future. This doesn't highlight the amount of time passing quite as much as Chaitanya Tamhane's movie Court, but the edits have the advantage of keeping things fast paced and interesting.

Because it plays out in the style of a stage play, this is a movie that demands strong performances from its actors/actresses. Thankfully, everyone in this film does a great job with their respective character. It's actually the lawyers themselves who do much of the talking. Menashe Noy is excellent as Viviane's fiery attorney. Sasson Gabai is fascinating as Elisha's lawyer, a man who takes a more dispassionate view of the proceedings. Though as you may expect, it's Ronit Elkabetz's performance that is the real emotional center of the film. She has complete command of this character and even when she's not saying anything you can't help but key in on her body language and expressions. I personally thought it was some of the best acting I saw all year.

Honestly, this movie is a lot to take in. It's not without its more tranquil or even comedic moments, but the vast majority of its running time is packed with nerve-wracking drama. There were moments where I found myself standing up and pacing the room, just to help process with what was unfolding. I love it when a movie can make me feel this way.

[The Bad Guy]

11. The Hateful Eight

Older films tend to be more revered, whether it's deserved or not. A film made by a director from twenty years ago has an automatic leg up on a film that came out a few months ago. I've been a part of post viewing Q&As or film discussions where people have said you can't compare established classic film A to movie we just watched B. But at some point, classic film A was just another movie playing on a Thursday evening. It takes time for works of art to gain academic approval, and some deserving works simply aren't seen by enough people to merit that consideration. In the end, however, literary professors will eventually concede Jane Austen wrote some good books. The reason I mention all of this is because I believe Tarantino's last three films may be his best, so I'll be very interested to see how people are ranking and talking about his filmography decades from now.

Part of what I love about this and Django Unchained, is that it feels like Tarantino is letting himself go and just having fun with everything at this stage in his career. He's obviously been known to do unconventional things when it comes to genre-blending, but these last two feel especially humorous and playful. At my Christmas day screening in 70mm, there were by far more laughs than at any other movie I attended this year. At nearly every turn there's a clever bit of dialogue or a ridiculous development that had me chuckling. Nearly everything out of Walter Goggins and Tim Roth's mouth had me smiling, but every character in the script gets a chance to shine. Especially when it comes to Samuel Jackson, who delivers a monologue for the ages. Even a small recurring gag about closing a door works brilliantly.

The film breaks out the Panavision 70 with 65mm lenses, opening with a sweeping shot of a snowy landscape. You might imagine that this special camera would be used to shoot epic, sprawling scenes of nature. But this is nothing like The Revenant. Instead, most of the film takes place in closed environments like a stagecoach or a cabin. The ultra-wide 2.75:1 lens is used to get a lot in the shot, so that if you're paying close enough attention you can identify things in the background of the cabin. The wideness of the shots also are meant to enhance the sense of claustrophobia. Tarantino had said that he made the actors come to his house and watch The Thing, just to give everyone a sense of what he was going for in terms of being trapped in a small space with a foreboding sense of danger.

Whether you like this movie will probably come down to how much you like Tarantino's flare for violence and especially his dialogue scenes. If you're someone who feels his scripts can get a bit too chatty, then this probably isn't for you. There are very long stretches of talking without action in this film. I'm someone who loves the way Tarantino's dialogue flows in his movies, so I enjoyed every moment of this nearly three hour script.

10. The Look of Silence

By now, you've probably heard of Joshua Oppenheimer's film The Act of Killing. This newest documentary, The Look of Silence, is a companion piece to it. Both films are focused on the genocide that took place in Indonesia in 1965. But while The Act of Killing takes a surreal and imaginative re-enactment approach, this latest work by Oppenheimer is structured much more like a conventional documentary. That's not to diminish The Look of Silence or even imply that it's an inferior film in some way, as it's every bit as distressing and mesmerizing, albeit in a different way. It's a stark and uncompromising look at what human beings are capable of in terms of thoughts and actions.

Due to Joshua Oppenheimer's work on these projects, a family came to learn the way in which their son was brutally murdered. They also learned the identities of the men responsible, who are living their lives as though they did nothing wrong, like many who partook in the slaughter. The family's youngest son Adi, who was born just after the genocide, finds himself struggling with this scenario. He wonders how it can be that the society simply accepts this dynamic, and he worries about raising his children in such a morally imbalanced world. Undeterred by the danger and profound awkwardness, he decides to confront each of his brother's killers.

It can be extremely frustrating to watch a lot of these interviews play out, since those who were complicit in these crimes have no incentive or desire to repent. Even when you get the sense that some may be harboring private doubts, there is often little in terms of their demeanor to suggest a moral crisis is taking place. I suppose this is why the film is called "The Look of Silence", because for much of the documentary it's alarming to watch the indifference or double-talk surrounding these crimes. Some of these men say that they drank the blood of their victims in order to prevent going crazy, claiming that those who didn't drink blood had since gone mad. Obviously, human blood can't cure insanity, but perhaps this placebo effect really did work for some of them. It's difficult to say when the human mind is capable of incredible fictions.

However, there are a few encounters where you get a sense that a perpetrator or their family are struggling with these horrors in their own way. One ex-leader gets so defensive that he demands to know the whereabouts of Adi's family, retreating back into his shell of anti-communist rhetoric and intimidation. In another scene, a family is so distraught at what Joshua and Adi are showing them that they become loud and defiant, claiming that their mother has a heart condition and can't be subjected to this. But, for me, the one moment that really stands out is when an older man and his daughter are confronted by Adi. The father is incredibly dismissive, while the daughter is horrified to learn of what her father once did. As the conversation goes on, we see a rare glimpse of someone actually empathizing with Adi and the loss of his brother. In the midst of so much indifference and hopelessness, it's a sign that there is perhaps hope for the future generations of Indonesia. Perhaps this country will one day alter its narrative and learn from its past, even if that day seems far off.

[The Bad Guy]

Yes, completely horrifying. As I was watching, I was wondering whether the documentary team had added any effects to achieve that nightmarish atmosphere. I don't really mind either way. If it's untouched, then that's just sickeningly sad.

Also, I love the picture you chose. That was my favorite moment of the movie. All the image drops away and for a few seconds, you see a genuine, real person. It's notable that by the time she gets around to the acceptance speech, the bravado is back in full effect.

I think that moment may be the best, most succinct counter-argument for being famous. I can't imagine getting mobbed like that upon leaving my home/apartment. It's also doubtful that Kapadia touched up the effect, though I can't say I know such a thing for certain.

Thanks regarding the picture, by the way. I try to pick a shot from each film that either has personal meaning for me or shows something important without spoiling things. It was so elating when she won - to see the expression on her face, to feel like she'd turned a corner in her life. But that comment a few minutes later from her friend broke my heart. There she is in what should be one of the happiest moments of her life and she's telling someone who loves her that it's all so boring without drugs.

[The Bad Guy]

9. The Assassin

From the moment Hou Hsiao-hsien's The Assassin came on the theater screen until the time it ended, I felt like I was in another world. The visual aesthetic combined with the pacing transports the viewer to eighth century China, provided they're able to give the film their full attention. I often find myself getting lost in movies, but it's rare that it happens to this extent.

This will sound hyperbolic, but The Assassin may be the most beautiful looking film I've ever seen. Mark Lee Ping Bin's cinematography is so gorgeous that I occasionally found myself mouthing the word "wow" or looking on in stunned admiration. Every frame of this film is so good that you could pause it at any time, snap the screenshot and hang it on your wall. Interestingly, the film uses a near 4:3 aspect ratio for most of its running time, though we see it break into a more standard ratio for a musical scene involving a zither, for instance, which makes the instrument look full and majestic by contrast. There's also the use of black and white to show scenes from the past, prior to Yinnian's assignment in Weibo. The Assassin won the Golden Horse award and the Asian Film award for best cinematography, though it was sadly ignored at many other awards ceremonies. If you watch this film on a DVD you are doing yourself a great disservice, as Blu Ray technology exists for a movie like this one.

Despite its obvious strengths, this is a film that I've seen get a lot of criticism on social media and film forums. Some declare it a masterpiece, while others simply didn't connect with it and found it plodding or dull. Admittedly, the story is not expository at all. Character motivations and plot points are very slowly revealed, and there were times during my first viewing where I was having trouble piecing it together. However, this seems like a deliberate approach on Hou Hsiao-hsien's part. The film asks a lot of its audience, but it rewards attention to detail. As the script goes on, I think everyone will recognize the character motivations and political circumstances. This slow reveal makes things feel that much more exciting once we recognize what's at stake, anticipating what decisions Yinnian will make before the story comes to a close. While I obviously can't reveal the ending of the film, the closing shot is one that stayed with me for a long time. Like the film itself, it's not the sort of thing you see every day.

Allow yourself the opportunity to get lost in this film. Honestly, there aren't too many films that are as artistically ambitious as this, and even fewer that can pull it off with such grace. This is a beautiful and haunting work of art.

8. World of Tomorrow

World of Tomorrow is only sixteen minutes long. It's also drawn with stick figure animation and what seems like an almost non-existent budget. Despite all of this, the film is packed with some of the most original and provocative science fiction I've ever seen. The story involves a young girl named Emily who is contacted by a mysterious woman. The stranger reveals that she is this young girl's future self, a third generation Emily whose consciousness has been passed along through hundreds of years in a transfer and cloning process. With an apocalyptic event imminent in Emily's distant future, she has decided to reach back through time and speak to her young self about the life she lived.*

Using experimental time travel and memory transfer, the third generation Emily is able to show Emily Prime her future world in all its complexity and wonder. The two wander through seemingly random memories, though there are obvious thematic parallels in these shared visions. As we progress through them, we're treated to a plethora of bold sci-fi ideas. Many of these individual concepts could make for a feature length film, yet they're presented to us at a relentless pace. All of this makes World of Tomorrow eminently re-watchable and it provides excellent fodder for philosophical discussion.

The film is emotionally heavy, but it's also able to utilize the audience's sense of adventure and humor. Above all, this is an intellectually profound film that will challenge audiences in all the best ways. I'm sure that I'll still be thinking about it years later. There's really not much to say about this short film other than "Bravo, Mr. Hertzfeldt". If you haven't already, you should go watch it right now.

[The Bad Guy]

7. Youth

Paolo Sorrentino's latest film opens with several minutes of music. We see a a musical performance of The Retrosettes 'You've Got The Love' at an alpine resort, the camera intimately close to the singer's face as the circular stage rotates continuously. The luxurious Swiss backdrop is blurred, though we can see people dancing beneath the night sky. Several hours later, the film ends with another musical performance.

Michael Caine's character, the composer Fred Ballinger, has a line in the movie about how he was never skilled with words. He claims that music is the only thing he was ever any good at, because you don't need thoughts and experience to understand music - it just is. There may not be a better summary of Youth than this. It's easy to get lost in the film's complexity, as it's loaded with themes and ideas that may seem all over the map. Yet the film is always captivating. There was never a dull moment where it wasn't eliciting some type of response from me. It's filled to the brim with comedy and absurdity, but there are moments of sheer wonder and even sadness. The film moves its audience like a beautiful piece of music, eliciting these emotional reactions in us even if we can't say why.

On the surface, the film appears to be about two elderly friends played by Michael Caine and Harvey Keitel. The two men are living out their final years at an upscale Swiss resort, reminiscing on their past experiences and feeling melancholic about their loss of memory. Caine's character is a retired composer who is refusing to do his conduct his simple songs for the Queen of England, while Keitel's character is a director working on his final film entitled Life's Last Day. We're joined by other notable characters like Ballinger's daughter, played by Rachel Weisz, a woman looking after her father and undergoing a rough breakup. Paul Dano's character is a Hollywood leading man, yet he laments the fact that he's only remembered for playing the part of a robot in a blockbuster film, rather than his work on independent films. This hodgepodge of plot and character develops in interesting ways, yet it's all secondary to the experience of watching the film. It's not the sort of movie that has a conventional plot, as it's more interested in the overall experience than any individual character. There's another line in the film spoken by Keitel's character where he says "You say emotions are overrated. Emotions are all we've got." Again echoing this theme of emotional resonance trumping narrative.

As you might expect, the film is brilliantly realized in terms of direction and acting. Michael Caine and Rachel Weisz are particularly excellent here, giving the caliber of performances that we've come to expect from them. I'm very interested to see what Paolo Sorrentino does next, as his last two films have been stellar. If you enjoyed The Great Beauty as I did, then you owe it to yourself to watch Youth. Likewise, if you didn't enjoy The Great Beauty, then you probably won't be won over here, as Youth covers a lot of the same thematic territory.

6. Carol

I've always been a fan of the saying 'better a pebble with flaws than a diamond without'. It's difficult enough to find examples of movies without flaws, and even when you do it's often a mediocre product without any obvious problems. Not only am I unable to find any blemishes on Carol, but nearly every aspect of the film is exceptional. That's an unusual thing, and Carol is a rare cinematic treat.

Based on Patricia Highsmith's novel The Price of Salt, Todd Haynes' adaptation centers on a female relationship in 1950s Manhattan. It's about the relationship between a young store clerk named Therese and an older married woman named Carol. The marriage is one of convenience, however, and it doesn't initially stand in the way of their bond and eventual romance. As Carol's marriage begins to unravel she decides to divorce her husband Harge, but by then it has become increasingly apparent to him that Carol's friend Abby is really an ex-lover, and that her current interest in Therese is romantic. With the law on his side, he threatens to revoke custody of their daughter if their marriage ends. Carol then finds herself faced with an impossible choice between the woman she loves and her own daughter.

Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara have such a rich chemistry in this film. I've long been a fan of both actresses, so seeing them be able to play off one another is exciting. Some have argued that Blanchett gives the performance of her career in this film, which is a tall order when you consider her work on films like Blue Jasmine, but a case can certainly be made. Rooney Mara may actually be even better, which doesn't shock me given her work on films like Dragon Tattoo. It's often said that acting is reacting, and the subtle mannerisms and inflections feel completely real. So much of the communication between these two actresses is nonverbal, as a slight glance or the placement of a hand says so much without dialogue. I can't remember the last time I've been so emotionally invested in an on-screen romance.

I could keep going about all the positive aspects in the film. The gorgeous cinematography, impeccable set & costume design, the lovely score which boasts the best theme music of the year etc. all of it comes together in harmony. The social and political implications are obvious, exploring themes that still resonate strongly today. But at its core, this is a film about the anguish of forbidden love. For as long as there's been romance, the heart has often wanted what it can't have. The pain of unrequited love is powerful and knows no time period or gender. This is destined to become one of the all-time great romance films. It should be as resonant fifty years from now as it is today.

[Ivan Drago]

Youth was criminally underseen, man. Its imagery and soundtrack still resonate with me to this day, and I'm still thinking about that final shot. It's one of those films that's so beautiful and emotionally involving with its artistry, that I felt a little deflated once the end credits began.

[The Bad Guy]

Youth was criminally underseen, man. Its imagery and soundtrack still resonate with me to this day, and I'm still thinking about that final shot. It's one of those films that's so beautiful and emotionally involving with its artistry, that I felt a little deflated once the end credits began.

I know what you mean. I was fortunate enough to see it for free at an Italian festival near UPENN's campus. The theater was packed with hardly any empty seats, and it was awesome to see it alongside so many film enthusiasts. The post-viewing Q&A was a little messy, since it's the kind of film you really need to let marinate overnight. But from the moment it ended I knew that it was a borderline masterpiece and one of my favorites of the year. Such an emotionally rich and varied experience.

[The Bad Guy]

5. Wild Tales

It's kind of odd that there aren't more movies like this. Wild Tales is basically an anthology film, telling six different stories in roughly two hours. The characters have nothing to do with each other, thankfully avoiding the gimmick of having the plots intersect. But the tales all have something in common thematically, as they each deal with people at their worst moments. There's a common thread of revenge through these stories, and if you take the six plots as a whole it's not hard to see writer/director Damián Szifron's intention.

The most important thing to mention about Wild Tales is that it's fun. It's a blast, actually. Movies this outright entertaining don't come out very often but I sure wish they did. As you might expect from an Argentinian film, the only theater that played it in my area was a more independent art house place. But even among a more highbrow audience, there were laughs and gasps the likes of which you'd expect at a raunchy comedy playing at a United Artists. For a movie that's often quite dark, it's filled to the brim with jokes. Even the most violent or twisted segments are captivating, like a beautiful disaster that we can't help but look away from. The film is like a roller-coaster of voyeuristic carnage and excitement from beginning to end.

I don't want to delve too deeply into each plot, as each of these plays out better if you know next to nothing going in. I will say that some of my favorite segments were the road rage bit and the car towing fiasco. But, for me, the one that elevates the film to greatness is the final segment of the wedding. It's probably at or near the very top if you're talking about the craziest movie weddings of all time. Not only is it the most memorable of the six segments, but it's the perfect thematic note to end the film on. When the music began playing and the credits came up on the screen, I knew I'd just seen something special.

A few of the segments aren't as strong as the others, but even then they're still very much worth watching. This is a sharply edited and energetic film with a really cool soundtrack as well. If you're fan of short films or simply like being entertained, then you really need to see this one.

4. Ex Machina

The author Sam Harris attended a private conference on artificial intelligence about a year ago. Although he was legally prohibited from mentioning who else was at the conference, as the event was shrouded in secrecy. He was a bit alarmed at the timescale that people were viewing the inevitable rise of A.I., which he had thought was nearly a half century away. But everyone at the event seemed to think this was something imminent in the next twenty years, or even sooner. An anonymous friend of his, who he has always thought of as a fairly reasonable guy and not prone to hyperbole, even claimed that the rapid rise of advanced A.I. was a greater threat to the long term survival of mankind than nuclear weapons or climate change. Harris' friend isn't alone either, as Elon Musk has also talked about the unchecked advance of A.I. as "summoning the demon".

All the implications and perils of an advanced artificial intelligence are explored in writer/director Alex Garland's latest film Ex Machina. The story deals with a young software engineer Caleb Smith (Domhnall Gleeson) who wins a lottery contest to spend a weekend at the estate of Bluebook's creator and CEO Nathan Bateman (Oscar Isaac). But as Caleb arrives at the gorgeous and secluded estate, Nathan reveals his true intentions. He has created an A.I. and wants to run a sort of Turing test between his robot Ava (Alicia Vikander) and Caleb. As the test progresses, we're introduced to a bevy of ideas about the nature of artificial intelligence and what it means to be human. For instance, if you create a computer that is unbeatable at chess, would it even know what chess is or that it's playing a game?

While Ex Machina is primarily a movie of ideas, it's also a suspenseful mystery. Caleb increasingly wonders whether he can trust Nathan, as much of what he was told at the outset was false or misleading. But at the same time, we're also left to wonder about Ava's intentions. After all, what will happen to her if she doesn't pass the Turing test? Even if she does, how does she know that her memory won't be wiped for a more advanced model? It's a life-changing experience for both Caleb and Ava, as each of them is encountering something new for the first time. As their understanding of one another deepens, how will their relationship impact the results of the study and where is it all headed?

Domhnall Gleeson is good, but as you might expect, Oscar Isaac and Alicia Vikander are the ones that really shine. The film also has a visual flare to it, with the cinematography making good use of the house and surrounding environment. The visual effects team did a great job on such a small budget as well, even taking home the Oscar in their category. But, in my opinion, the real star here is the intelligent script that addresses fundamental questions about A.I. in ways that are rarely handled in movies.

[The Bad Guy]

3. Breathe

I didn't hear about Breathe (aka Respire) until very late last year. The film got almost no distribution and nobody I knew was talking about it. But I was intrigued when I heard that Mélanie Laurent, the actress of Inglourious Basterds and Beginners, had directed a film. I've always liked her acting, but I wasn't aware of her as a director until now. After seeing this masterpiece, I will always think of her as director first and an actor second.

The film reveals its thematic focus early on. Our young protagonist, Charlene, is listening to her high school teacher ask the class whether passion diminishes our liberty. Do our emotions make us more free or less free? After all, we can't control what we feel. Passion is harmful when it becomes excessive, he warns, which is most of the time. The film explores this idea through a high school friendship between Charlene and a new arrival named Sarah. Sarah is, in many ways, everything the diminutive Charlene isn't - confident, spontaneous, and outgoing. Almost immediately, Charlene finds herself under Sarah's spell. The two girls form an instant connection, spending nearly all of their time together and becoming emotionally intimate.

Somewhere along the way, however, the friendship starts to sour. As Charlene obsesses over the schism, the problem only worsens. In one particularly memorable scene, Charlene and Sarah reach their lowest point. From this moment on, it's hard to see the two ever getting back together. The girl who was once Charlene's best friend quickly transforms into her relentless tormentor. The personal secrets she had shared with Sarah are now weaponized against her in the form of malicious gossip. Charlene could fight back, but she chooses not to. Instead, she recoils into her private world of misery and abuse. She does this because, despite everything she's going through, she still loves Sarah and desperately clings to the hope that they can be reunited.

Charlene isn't alone in feeling this way, either. Other characters have relatively little screen time, but we see several examples of people who pin their hopes to people that may not deserve it. Before Charlene met Sarah, her best friend was a girl named Victoire. Even after the friendship with Sarah becomes poisoned, she continues to ignore a tearful Victoire who longs to be close to her old friend again. A boy named Lucas is infatuated with Charlene, yet she acts as though he doesn't exist. Even Charlene's mother is in a relationship filled with emotional abuse and infidelity, yet she continues to make excuses for the man she loves. In one memorable scene, she asks her mother why she always goes back to him, knowing how wrong he is for her. Her mother simply replies "because I can't do otherwise". So much for passion making us more free.

Mélanie Laurent directs this film like a seasoned pro, showing that she's an immensely talented filmmaker. I hope someone out there is taking notice of Laurent, because it would be a tragedy if she can't garner enough opportunity to make this a successful career. Joséphine Japy and Lou de Laâge are flat out brilliant in this as well, giving two of the better performances I saw last year. I could see both of them going on to be well-known actresses for decades to come. As for the film as a whole, I've already stated that I consider it a masterpiece. I watch a lot of films, but it's very unusual that I'm as shell-shocked from a viewing as I was here. I was literally walking around for days afterward thinking "Oh, my God, that freaking movie..."

[dreamdead]

In Carol, Rooney Mara is so pixie-ish that it becomes less an actor’s performance and more just other. While she’s shown a range of character since The Social Network, I yearn to see her more recognizably human and not simply other. I read Highsmith’s novel prior to seeing the film—curious as to how Haynes would direct it.
While it’s a luscious film, and accompanied by a lovely score, there’s something occasionally inert about the whole affair. Some of that belongs to the adaptation choices, which thrust a frame tale onto a text that didn’t need nor gain much by the initial part of the bookend. Further, and more frustrating for me, was the abandonment of Therese’s career and excursions into exploring it throughout the film—a trait that the book includes and which makes Therese far more active throughout.
---
Man from Reno is one that I saw recommended over at koreanfilm.org in an incredulous review about how San Francisco was populated in an American film without Asian performers. It’s one that I think I need to rectify immediately, and which I’ll be privileging here soon.
---
Sicario was rather wonderful. I remember reading Mike D’Angelo’s original comments on that film over at The Dissolve, where he expressed trepidation for the film, only to reverse himself as the film revealed how false Blunt is as our surrogate hero. I question if it ever quite rises to the level of the freeway siege, where the tension is just phenomenal. Nonetheless, the radical act of using Blunt to undercut all of our expectations works surprisingly well, and while the script otherwise remains a bit average, it’s so beautifully filmed and considerate in its social space that I am highly impressed.
---
By the by, I finished Barbara. It lacks the revelatory simplicity of Phoenix, though it remains a solid cultural study of an era. It’s well directed and performed, but it remains a quality film without ever becoming superlative. Hoss is solid in it, and engenders real emotion without having to do too much; whereas, however, the Dardennes excel at the sort of transcendent ending that pivots onto a specific sense of a character’s moral cleansing, which Phoenix also captures, Barbara never quite moves into that territory.
---
Heard great things about Breathe, so this excites me even more.

[The Bad Guy]

2. Sicario

The first seven minutes of Sicario are going to give people nightmares. We arrive at a crime scene that is profoundly disturbing. But instead of showing us the horrifying imagery and moving on, the film comes back to these shots and hangs on them. The audience might want to look away, but the camera won't let us. We're meant to feel uncomfortable. We're not supposed to forget what we've seen.

Sicario lays its cards on the table early. If you're uncomfortable with what you're watching, then you're free to leave. But, more importantly, it's letting us know what's at stake. The only question left is how far you're willing to go to stop this. When our protagonist is given the opportunity to join an inter-agency task force, she is asked by her superior to think very carefully before responding. She only asks one question - "Do we get a shot at the men responsible for today?" When the answer is yes, she immediately volunteers. Unfortunately, she doesn't realize what she's gotten herself into.

The real conflict of this film isn't between the cartels and law enforcement. The battle is an ethical one, waged between our protagonist Kate Macer and the man in charge of the special operation, Matt Graver. Kate is an inexperienced but principled agent, someone who believes in the rule of law and doing things by the book. Graver is an uncompromising pragmatist, willing to get his hands dirty and skirt the rules whenever necessary. He is perfectly willing to use extreme measures like torture or placing innocents in harms way, so long as it achieves a worthwhile objective. Emily Blunt's character is our eyes and ears, so it's not surprising that she's the moral center of the film. Yet the script also paints her as being in over her head or ill-equipped to deal with these problems. Her views are admirable, but their application in this war often appears naive. What I love about this script is that it's asking some very difficult questions about whether the ends justify the means, and it's not offering any easy answers. In the end, it's up to you to decide what your principles are.

The film is masterfully done on almost every level. The three main performances by Emily Blunt, Benicio Del Toro, and Josh Brolin are excellent. A lot of people felt that composer Jóhann Jóhannsson had the best original score of the year, offering a dark, pulsing soundtrack that feels ominous and almost evil at times. Director Denis Villeneuve has been steadily upping his game, and with this film he should now have everyone's full attention as a rising star in the industry. But the man of the hour is obviously Roger Deakins, who I thought did the best job of any cinematographer last year. Unlike The Revenant or The Assassin, much of Sicario takes place in fairly ordinary environments that you wouldn't think of as photogenic. Somehow, Deakins is able to make magic out of nearly every frame of this picture, using a technical precision and attention to detail that's stunning. There is a scene where a pack of black SUVs cross over into Juárez which I've seen over and over again, never tiring of its craftsmanship. Other shots, like the one I chose for this review, or so clever and beautiful that they almost seem obvious in retrospect.

This isn't a movie for the faint of heart, but it's one you owe it to yourself to watch. Its script challenges our moral boundaries, and it makes for a fascinating reference point when discussing modern issues like America's drone program or the drug war. The ideas at play in this film date back to thinkers like Immanuel Kant and Niccolò Machiavelli, and there's plenty to be said for the differing views presented in this film. It should make for some very interesting post-viewing analysis and debate. But if nothing else, it's one hell of a ride.

[The Bad Guy]

1. Mad Max: Fury Road

There's a moment from Mad Max: Fury Road that I'll always remember. Our protagonist, Furiosa, is driving a war rig into a massive storm. With three war parties in pursuit, she can either surrender or risk dying in the tempest. As the rig goes into the storm, the music shifts from a frenetic action score to a stunning orchestral interlude. The apocalyptic winds carry her pursuers into the sky, their bodies tossed amidst the lightning and explosions. Most movies couldn't even dream of a scene like this. If they did, it would be saved as the epic finale after hours of buildup. But this isn't a normal movie, and this amazing sequence takes place before we've even hit the half hour marker.

Much of the criticism I've heard regarding George Miller's latest film is based on the screenplay. It's not uncommon to hear someone deride it as nothing more than a two hour chase sequence. I'll touch on some of these criticisms later, but whether these charges have merit misses the point. Regardless of what you might think about the script, it's merely one aspect of a larger whole. No matter how good or bad a script is, it's something that precedes every other aspect of film-making. At a basic level, the screenplay is going to need a budget. It's going to need a director and a team of artists to pull it off. In this case you're going to need costume designers, makeup artists, sound designers, sound editors, film editors, a cinematographer, a composer, stunt experts, production designers, a visual effects team, actors... you get the idea. You can go down the line and give it a nearly perfect grade in every category. It's no accident that this film won six Oscars and more cumulative awards than any other film in 2015. Believe it or not, every aspect of film-making is important when it comes to making a good film.

But let's take a step back and examine this maligned screenplay. A lot of the criticism stems from its lack of dialogue and character development, as we're shown just enough to get the gears going. An unfavorable reading of this might argue that this is action porn like The Raid: Redemption, a movie that has spectacular action but is paper thin on story. I actually don't feel this is the case here. In fact, what I think Mad Max: Fury Road does is actually very clever, though it's admittedly difficult to see on a first viewing. While most big budget films give us too much exposition, this film intentionally gives us almost none. We have enough relevant information to follow the story, but there are layers here that you might not get until your second or third viewing. Further still, there are some mysteries that are left to viewer interpretation. A savvy viewer might realize that the dynamics between Furiosa and her crew suggest a long-standing relationship, and that she's obviously done missions like this for Immortan many times before. When she talks about redemption, we don't know exactly what she means, but we're able to connect the dots. But when she says her line about being remembered, that's something you'll be left pondering whether you see the film once or eleven times. Furiosa's character has a hidden back story that could probably be an entirely separate film, but she's not the only example of how this film is imaginative and open to interpretation.

There are so many impressive things I could say about this film, like how there's surprisingly little CGI and it uses incredibly dangerous stunt work for its choreography. I could go on about Junkie XL's phenomenal soundtrack, or talk about how George Miller is a 71-year-old rock-star. But I imagine you don't want to read a twenty paragraph review where I run down the list from A to Z. Suffice it to say, this film had a more profound impact on me than anything I saw last year. I consider 2015 to be maybe the best year in modern memory, but putting this film at the number one spot wasn't a difficult choice. I admittedly wasn't as excited for this project as many of my friends, but when I left the theater after my first viewing I was flabbergasted. I went back to see it again in the theaters. I re-watched it over and over again on Blu Ray. The more I see of this film, the more I'm convinced it's a timeless classic and a true masterpiece. It's the best action movie I've ever seen.

[Dukefrukem]

Love your #1 and #2 choice.

No arguments here.

[baby doll]

I've just seen eight of your top fifty. (Also, I've read The Price of Salt, which bored the bejesus out of me.)

Son of Saul is my probably my favourite film of 2015 so far, though About Elly, The Forbidden Room and Mistress America wouldn't be far behind. Wild Tales was lots of fun, especially the last episode, though the upbeat ending struck me as a bit of a cop out. I think I've said enough about The Revenant on this forum and don't feel the need to repeat myself. (In short, I'd rather watch a real Tarkovsky movie, thank you very much.) I found When Marnie Was There tepid and wan; certainly nothing to rival Yonebayashi's Arrietty the Borrower, which was probably the last truly great Ghibli film. (The best anime I saw last year was The Boy and the Beast.) Mommy did a good job of showing how awful life is small town Quebec, but to what end? I prefer Dolan's early, funny movies (J'ai tué ma mère is basically the same movie but an hour shorter).

[The Bad Guy]

In Carol, Rooney Mara is so pixie-ish that it becomes less an actor’s performance and more just other. While she’s shown a range of character since The Social Network, I yearn to see her more recognizably human and not simply other. I read Highsmith’s novel prior to seeing the film—curious as to how Haynes would direct it.
While it’s a luscious film, and accompanied by a lovely score, there’s something occasionally inert about the whole affair. Some of that belongs to the adaptation choices, which thrust a frame tale onto a text that didn’t need nor gain much by the initial part of the bookend. Further, and more frustrating for me, was the abandonment of Therese’s career and excursions into exploring it throughout the film—a trait that the book includes and which makes Therese far more active throughout.
---
Man from Reno is one that I saw recommended over at koreanfilm.org in an incredulous review about how San Francisco was populated in an American film without Asian performers. It’s one that I think I need to rectify immediately, and which I’ll be privileging here soon.
---
Sicario was rather wonderful. I remember reading Mike D’Angelo’s original comments on that film over at The Dissolve, where he expressed trepidation for the film, only to reverse himself as the film revealed how false Blunt is as our surrogate hero. I question if it ever quite rises to the level of the freeway siege, where the tension is just phenomenal. Nonetheless, the radical act of using Blunt to undercut all of our expectations works surprisingly well, and while the script otherwise remains a bit average, it’s so beautifully filmed and considerate in its social space that I am highly impressed.
---
By the by, I finished Barbara. It lacks the revelatory simplicity of Phoenix, though it remains a solid cultural study of an era. It’s well directed and performed, but it remains a quality film without ever becoming superlative. Hoss is solid in it, and engenders real emotion without having to do too much; whereas, however, the Dardennes excel at the sort of transcendent ending that pivots onto a specific sense of a character’s moral cleansing, which Phoenix also captures, Barbara never quite moves into that territory.
---
Heard great things about Breathe, so this excites me even more.

Agree to disagree about Rooney Mara's performance. I imagine that reading the novel (which I didn't even know about until after seeing the film) probably colors one's perception both for good and for ill. Obviously, I felt an emotional connection toward her character and had a strong connection with the film as a whole.

--

Glad to hear that you enjoyed Sicario, which you now can see was my second favorite film from last year. I like your comment about Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) undercutting audience expectations. I feel like she represents the idealist who is ill-equipped to deal with the problem, even if one is ideologically predisposed to her views. Graver (Josh Brolin) is obviously more capable, though a lot of this stems from his willingness to act and his consequentalist philosophy.

--

I hope you get a chance to check out Man from Reno and Breathe. I'd be especially curious to hear your thoughts on the latter.

Thanks for sharing your opinion on Barbara.

Love your #1 and #2 choice.

No arguments here.

I've just seen eight of your top fifty. (Also, I've read The Price of Salt, which bored the bejesus out of me.)

Son of Saul is my probably my favourite film of 2015 so far, though About Elly, The Forbidden Room and Mistress America wouldn't be far behind. Wild Tales was lots of fun, especially the last episode, though the upbeat ending struck me as a bit of a cop out. I think I've said enough about The Revenant on this forum and don't feel the need to repeat myself. (In short, I'd rather watch a real Tarkovsky movie, thank you very much.) I found When Marnie Was There tepid and wan; certainly nothing to rival Yonebayashi's Arrietty the Borrower, which was probably the last truly great Ghibli film. (The best anime I saw last year was The Boy and the Beast.) Mommy did a good job of showing how awful life is small town Quebec, but to what end? I prefer Dolan's early, funny movies (J'ai tué ma mère is basically the same movie but an hour shorter).

I can't fault anyone putting Son of Saul at the top of their list. It left a much stronger impression on me than I was anticipating.

Interesting to me that you consider Arrietty to be the last great Ghibli film. I enjoyed it (had it on my list years back) but I absolutely loved The Tale of The Princess Kaguya, which I had as my #1 from 2014. I actually consider it Ghibli's best film overall.

My local theater is playing The Boy and the Beast right now and I'd like to go check it out, as they're showing some of the screenings subtitled. I've only seen two of his films, but I've been a fan of Hosada's work. I much preferred Wolf Children to Summer Wars, but from what I understand I really ought to see The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.

[TGM]

Not only did Breathe steal my movie title, it stole my character names, too. :P

[baby doll]

Interesting to me that you consider Arrietty to be the last great Ghibli film. I enjoyed it (had it on my list years back) but I absolutely loved The Tale of The Princess Kaguya, which I had as my #1 from 2014. I actually consider it Ghibli's best film overall.

I haven't seen that one yet, which is why I said Arrietty was probably the last great Ghibli film.