Andrew Swafford: Top Ten Films of 2019
#10 – Knock Down the House
By Rachel Lears
[USA]
Many great documentaries can trace their origins to the filmmaker being in the right place at the right time, and Knock Down the House – which tracks the grassroots campaign of the now famous representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, among others – certainly seems like one of those on a certain level. There has been so much misinformation weaponized against Ocasio-Cortez that this doc has value simply on account of its myth-busting potential, but what has stuck with me about this film is the stories it tells about its other three subjects, whose campaigns were choked out by their well-entrenched, wealthy opponents. AOC is a rare example of someone breaking through this power structure, but she’s the exception to the rule.
#9 – Hustlers
Lorene Scafaria
[USA]
My favorite American multiplex release of the year, Hustlers re-appropriates the rise-and-fall template of Scorsese’s crime classics to tell a new story: the 2008 financial crash as experienced by scorned sex workers. (Scorsese himself, of course, made his own update to the formula this year with The Irishman, but I enjoyed this throwback a bit more.) The film is both bombastic and nuanced – while the action is driven by sensational musical sequences and inspired editing choices, the drama is given life by the warmly human performances of Constance Wu and Jennifer Lopez, who are able to communicate a profound bond of friendship simply in the way they look at one another.
#8 – Parasite
By Bong Joon-ho
[South Korea]
If American multiplexes frequently offered American audiences the opportunity to watch films from other countries, I could imagine Parasite being one of the highest grossing films of the year. This South Korean thriller about a poor family secretly leeching off of an uber-rich household is gripping, suspenseful, and consistently surprising in a way that feels nothing short of Hitchcock-caliber. At once broadly crowd-pleasing and rich with subtextual meaning, Parasite is a perfect piece of genre filmmaking.
#7 – Shadow
By Zhang Yimou
[China]
Speaking of perfect genre filmmaking, Shadow is a masterpiece of reality-breaking wuxia action from Zhang Yimou, best known for films like Hero and House of Flying Daggers. Where his previous films have been vibrant with rainbow hues, Shadow works within a limited palette of black and white, with only skin tones and blood intrude upon the perfectly realized greyscale. The action is equally graceful and innovative – where else can you see a fight choreographed to lute music or a fight driven by a razor-sharp umbrella?
#6 – Transit
By Christian Petzold
[Germany]
In recent years, it has become understandably common for prestige film directors to make movies about Nazis: just this year brought us anti-Nazi parables from Terrence Malick and Taika Waititi. In my eyes, the only director to nail this trick is Christian Petzold, who has already built his career on reimagining historical classics (Vertigo in Phoenix, Carnival of Souls in Yella, etc.). Here, Petzold tells a Casablanca-esque story based on a WWII-era German novel – but, crucially, sets it in the present day, with the police violence looking frighteningly familiar. Seeing the slow creep of fascism and the urgent need for subversive action existing on the margins of this doomed love story is deeply evocative. Rather than looking back on history with a self-congratulatory posture, Transit forces us to consider the ways that the atrocities of the past are alive and well.
#5 – Under the Silver Lake
By David Robert Mitchell
[USA]
A sprawling daylight noir set in a memorabilia-obsessed Los Angeles, its many mysteries explored by a perpetually horny wastrel. It’s Inherent Vice for the internet age, in which all the dots must be connected somehow, and fandom of retro video games is surely the key to it all. I don’t know if Under the Silver Lake ultimately makes any sense (there’s one theory that it leaves pointless clues only to mock its own puzzle-box-solving audience, which makes the subreddit dedicated to decoding it that much funnier), nor do I know if its sexist depictions of women are meant to be farcical or sincere. One thing I know for certain, though, is that this thing is endlessly fascinating in its wackiness, and I spent most of 2019 watching other movies and saying to myself: “well, that wasn’t as entertaining as Under the Silver Lake…”
#4 – Portrait of a Lady on Fire
By Céline Sciamma
[France]
Although it premiered at TIFF in September and is playing in New York and LA now to qualify for the Oscar race, this won’t release in most American cities until Valentine’s Day of next year. As much as I want people to see this ASAP, the film’s distributor, Neon, is making a wise move by presenting this as a possible date movie, because Portrait of a Lady on Fire is one of the steamiest movies I’ve ever seen. In a seaside manor, a woman waits to be married off to a man she’s never seen – but first, she must send him her portrait, which is being surreptitiously painted by a female painter who must steal glances to complete her work in secret. When she falls in love with her subject, Portrait of a Lady on Fire becomes a film about the sensual nature of looking, and it features a consistently ASMR-inducing soundscape that will raise the hairs on the back of your neck.
#3 – Homecoming
By Beyoncé Knowles
[USA]
When Beyoncé’s 2018 Coachella performance was live-streamed and dubbed “Beychella,” I remember many critics dubbing it one of the best concert “films” ever made. Now that it officially exists as a bona fide film, this fact is indisputable. Not only does Beyoncé maintain an unbelievable amount of ferocious energy as she stomps across the stage for the film’s 2.5-hour runtime, but she also brings that same dynamism to her role as a film director. The shots that make up this concert film are never just haphazardly capturing the action on stage – they’re always meticulously blocked for maximum affect, as evidenced by the way the film’s editing is able to seamlessly switch between the two-night performance in which Beyoncé and company wear different colored costumes. There are only so many engaging camera angles one can create in filming a stage performance, but Beyoncé finds all of them.
#2 – Long Day’s Journey Into Night
By Bi Gan
[China]
Since this is a 2 hour-20 minute noir with a near-impossible-to-follow plot that drops its title card 70 minutes in before then switching to 3D for a 50-minute long closing shot, Long Day’s Journey Into Night might be seen as one of the most difficult films of the year. Nevertheless, I keep coming back. Long Day’s Journey is truly mesmerizing, with director Bi Gan creating inexplicable textures and sensations by almost imperceptibly moving his camera over surfaces and spaces as its trance-inducing score rings out with synth drones and delicately plucked electric guitar strings. I’ve seen Long Day’s Journey three times now and am only now getting a good grasp on its plot, but I’m kicking myself for not seeing it a fourth time when I had the chance.
#1 – Climax
By Gaspar Noé
[France]
If anyone ever accuses me of liking films solely for their politics (see: most of this list), I will point them to Climax, a film that, if you think about it too hard, is downright reprehensible. An EDM musical horror film about a drugged-out dance troupe’s descent into hell, Climax is either completely hollow, or it’s an X-rated PSA fear-mongering about drugs, gender fluidity, and racial diversity run amok. I choose to believe it’s hollow, because on a craft level, Climax is the most thrilling experience I’ve had in a theater all year. Opening with a 5+ minute ensemble dance sequence captured all in one take and featuring incredible physical performances, Climax then proceeds to make one boldly aggressive camera move after another, and the result is an electrifying experience. To quote Alien, “Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility.” It might be genuinely evil – or at the very least, dumb – but I can’t wait to subject myself to Climax again.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Andrew Swafford’s Honorable Mentions (in Alphabetical Order):
American Dharma by Errol Morris – This interrogation of Steve Bannon has been hotly debated and continuously delayed since its release at TIFF back in 2018, but I find it to be a valuable case study in political calculation.
The Farewell by Lulu Wang – A cross-cultural family portrait about processing grief and reconnecting with disparate family, The Farewell feels a cut above typical family dramas thanks to a great lead performance by Awkwafina and strong directorial choices from Lulu Wang.
Greta by Neil Jordan – Dismissed as badly done camp by most critics upon release, I was absolutely thrilled by this Isabelle Huppert-led stalker story that still manages to shock with traditional Hitchockian flair.
Joker by Todd Phillips – This is another movie whose politics I’m not sure I can vouch for, but I felt strangely compelled by the performance and cinematography that carry this grimdark supervillain-story-by-way-of-Scorsese-riff. I also think there are compelling economic readings of this movie, but it’s entirely possible that Phillips is just trolling us all like the clown he is.
Midsommar by Ari Aster – I found Ari Aster’s debut feature Hereditary to be excessive, messy, and, at times, irresponsible. These are all critiques I still hold, to a certain extent, about Midsommar, but the fairy tale morality at the heart of the story – plus the compelling performance by the great young actress Florence Pugh – has made this one stick with me.
Vitalina Varela by Pedro Costa – I don’t have enough words to explain what exactly Pedro Costa’s unique approach to cinema is, but Vitalina Varela, the fifth film in an ongoing series, has been the film of his that I’ve found most moving. Despite his trademark nightmarishly gloomy cinematography and unflinching documentary realism, Vitalina Varela manages to find light in the darkness.
Reid Ramsey: Top Ten Films of 2019
#10 – Gemini Man
By Ang Lee
[USA]
While destined to be relegated to the world of Best Buy TV demos, Gemini Man produced not only the most thrilling action of the year, but also some of the most genuinely emotional sequences. To take down aged-out assassin Henry Brogan (Will Smith), the evil government corporation must send out their next best assassin: Henry’s clone (de-aged Will Smith). The plot to Ang Lee’s newest may not be the freshest on this list, but it’s formal execution sure is daring. Lee uses the same high frame rate technology as he did with Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk to render beautifully hyperreal images and sequences.
What truly cements Gemini Man as a great movie of the year is not the wonderfully sweet father-son dynamic that develops between Henry and Junior, or the experimental use of new technologies; instead it’s the marriage of the form and content. If high frame rate is a cloning and “enhancement” of traditional film, and Junior is an enhanced clone of Henry, then what statement may Lee be making about the relationship between this emerging tech and movies as we know them?
#9 – Shadow
Zhang Yimou
[China]
An action movie of a different ilk, Shadow is at first contemplative and eventually bizarre thrilling. In black and white with intermittent moments of color, it leaves little to the thematic imagination while providing an absolute visual feast. To an extent, Zhang Yimou’s film can serve as an antidote to those who don’t like Gemini Man, in that it owes more to wuxia films and grounds much more of the movie in visual composition than solely in image clarity. Shadow is a joyously unashamed genre movie.
#8 – High Flying Bird
By Steven Soderbergh
[USA]
Perhaps the most legitimate complaint one could lob against High Flying Bird is that it’s about too much. It’s about basketball. It’s about transactional relationships. It’s about unions and lockouts. It’s about the silent violence faced through suppression. It’s about too much. But Tarrell Alvin McCraney’s screenplay, flying out of the mouths of André Holland and Zazie Beets, shot on iPhone by Steven Soderbergh, could sell just about anyone anything. The better of Soderbergh’s Netflix collaborations this year comes almost as an entry into the director’s heist filmography. By the time the credits role it feels as if everyone has pulled off the unthinkable, including Soderbergh who sells you on the electric look of a basketball-centric film in which no one actually even plays a game of pick-up.
#7 – High Life
By Claire Denis
[France]
Denis’ sci-fi prison drama, High Life, is one of the coldest films of recent memory. It also happens to be one of the most hopeful. Monte (Robert Pattinson), a death row prisoner, joins a suicide mission made up of other prisoners to a black hole in a last ditch to extend his life. The ship they crew is full of violence of all kinds — physical, sexual, emotional. Yet at the end of the debased, horrifying journey, Monte is given a choice for redemption, and it seems fairly evident that in even the darkest of matters, he chooses life.
#6 – Ad Astra
By James Gray
[USA]
Anchored by a phenomenal Brad Pitt performance, Ad Astra offers a glimpse of why we desire to see the ends of the universe and the lengths we will take to get there. It doesn’t try to answer these questions through a broad scope of humanity, but instead through some remarkable specificity. Pitt’s astronaut is so inside his own head, that the view of space is often limited to the view through his visor. With such a narrow point of view, it’s truly a miracle that Gray and his team managed to pull off a movie with hopeful and elegantly-stated themes.
#5 – Diamantino
By Gabriel Abrantes and Daniel Schmidt
[Portugal]
Massive fluffy puppies frolicking in a haze of pink fog. A missed penalty kick by the world’s greatest soccer star. A tax fraud investigator going undercover as an African refugee. And all this in the first act of Diamantino! Apart from being wonderfully bizarre, the Portuguese film is especially poignant for anyone in touch with international soccer culture. A Cristiano Ronaldo look-a-like named Diamantino leaves his beloved game after becoming a laughingstock. The plot follows his devolve as his astronomical privilege obscures any of his genuine attempts to do good in the world. Diamantino may not work perfectly on every level, but for fans of the absurd, it’s a must watch.
#4 – Parasite
By Bong Joon-ho
[South Korea]
What sets Parasite apart from other domestic/class thrillers is the sheer perfection of the filmmaking. Bong Joon-ho, coming off two English language films (Snowpiercer and Okja) returns to South Korea with his hilarious and violent twisty thriller. The true excellence of Parasite comes as you realize Bong’s ability to cause the audience to laugh, and then have that same laugh catch in the back of the throat before another chuckle can even follow.
#3 – The Irishman
By Martin Scorsese
[USA]
Much like Her Smell, The Irishman is truly about accumulation. Scorsese’s newest gangster flick is far from a retread of any of his previous exploits and instead stands as a melancholy chaser to any of those long-celebrated movies. Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) is a hitman who callously takes orders over the years, never questioning the morals of his actions and allowing the hits to corrode him into barely an outline of the man he wanted to be. The movie’s running time (3.5 hours) becomes elucidated in the final act as the accumulation of all Frank’s actions backs him into a corner. He’s left spouting his stories in a nursing home, without a single person who wants to listen.
#2 – Her Smell
By Alex Ross Perry
[USA]
Far and away the loudest movie on this list, Her Smell is a constant tumble through backstage hostility, addiction, and aggressively poor parenting. It almost never stops moving at a breakneck pace which looks like it won’t leave any character undamaged. About two-thirds of the way through, though, the electrifying movie starring Elisabeth Moss becomes an utter emotional masterpiece. In the midst of a tough period of rehabilitation, Moss’s ex-rockstar Becky Something sits down with her daughter to play piano. She softly sings “Heaven” by Bryan Adams. This single take is easily the most affecting moment of filmmaking this year, and it comes in the middle of an intensely visceral movie-watching experience.
#1 – A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
By Marielle Heller
[USA]
A journey into the poison of human un-forgiveness couched in a children’s TV show, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood defies all expectations, especially those expectations of a nice, Mr. Rogers biopic. Despite the inclusion of the legendary minister-turned-children’s television host (played wonderfully by Tom Hanks), Neighborhood is not an especially nice movie. It features a fighting and brooding depiction of reporter Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys) as his supposed puff-piece on Rogers coincides with his sick father attempting to enter his life again. Vogel’s character is broad enough that it can strike a lot of resonance, and specific enough that it can ruffle some feathers. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is an intensely personal film, and ultimately an incredibly special one.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Reid Ramsey’s Honorable Mentions (in Alphabetical Order):
Crawl by Alexandre Aja – This tight alligator thriller demonstrates the heights to which genre cinema can climb — and the speed at which they can swim.
Light From Light by Paul Harrill – While this succinct ghost story may take a little while to get rolling, it offers an astonishingly clear-eyed and emotional payoff that is sure to affect all viewers, not only those who can sympathize with its landscape.
Long Shot by Jonathan Levine – It’s genuinely funny. It’s genuinely romantic. Charlize Theron is great.
Once Upon A Time…in Hollywood by Quentin Tarantino – In Tarantino’s quest to demythologize recent history, he’s landed with the Manson murders from 1969. This subject that may initially seem to, um, not suit someone with such tendencies as Tarantino turns into his most heartfelt, and affecting movie of his long career.
Woman At War by Benedikt Erlingsson – A magical take on the environmental crisis that is funny, endearing, and honest. It flits between reality and fantasy so seamlessly and ends with one of the most potent ending shots in recent memory.
