The Best Films of 2018

The Top Films of 2018

This past year showed a greater than 5% increase in box office receipts from the previous year, and it gave us a slate of popular films that were met with critical acclaim. The overall feeling of the industry, however, seems to be one of crisis.  Beyond the increasingly lengthy list of men being faced with lawsuits and criminal indictments for allegations of harassment and sexual assault, the industry has shown little real progress in diversification. The proliferation of online streaming platforms has eaten into the number of tickets sold and the freedom granted to filmmakers in this new platinum age of television allows stories to be told over ten hours, rather than limits of 120 minutes. What compels anyone to leave the house to patronize the neighborhood movie theater these days? The tent-pole films of this age seem to be spectacular superhero movies that can appeal to the widest audience, both domestically and internationally. I have listed what I believe are some of the best films of the year below.

1. The Favourite: Yorgos Lanthimos has not directed a corpus of film that is known for accessibility. His narratives are often interested in the violence prevailing under a sheen of bourgeois respectability. He revels in the uncomfortable, pushing his actors from Nicole Kidman to Colin Farrell to engage in pause-laden scenarios of seething hatred. He is not one for easy conclusions or pat endings. When it was announced that he was directing a film about the court of Queen Anne, I worried that any attempt of historical accuracy would be tossed out the window. The results, however, are a surprisingly fresh rendition of the early eighteenth century. Not everything is accurate, especially those dances that are certainly not a gavotte or quadrille, but the cast of Rachel Weisz (as Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough), Emma Stone (Abigail Hill), and the indomitable Olivia Colman as the Queen have presented us with an excellent rendition of the events in the last years of her troubled reign. We may not know whether lesbian acts were committed by these women, but we do know that Sarah accused Abigail of "acts of tribadism." The film is rich with humor and intriguing takes on the courtly protocols of a rarefied air. And it is a costume drama that does not feel like homework. (I wasn't even ambivalent about Emma in this one.)

2. Roma: Alfonso Cuarón’s lovingly told reminiscences of his childhood in the eponymous neighborhood of Mexico City does have its detractors, but the masterfully crafted and shot narrative holds a compelling vision of a city riven by distinctions of class and ethnicity. The exquisite black-and-white cinematography captures the city in its post-68 era in a part of the city that was hit hard by the 1985 earthquake (and the earthquake that hit in 2017, as well). Yalitzia Aparicio has been the breakthrough star of the film, becoming only the second Mexican to be nominated for Best Actress (the first was Salma Hayek for Frida). As the maid who caters to her middle-class employers, she serves as the film’s conscience (even if critics allege that Cuarón fails to present her without objectification), and the harrowing centerpiece of the film is almost exclusively focused on her. The hosting of a foreign film of such depth and magnitude on Netflix has its drawbacks. This is a film that deserves a big-screen viewing; however, providing widespread access on a streaming platform of foreign films may actually encourage the viewing of more such films by the broadest audience possible.

3. Cold War: This haunting tale of the love affair of a singer and her musical director seems to give credence to the axiom that "the personal is political." They are often separated by the vagaries of Polish communism and its place behind the Iron Curtain situated between the East Germans and Soviets. The musical director's dissidence of his country and escape set the stage for a story of over a dozen years of being separated and coming together. The film is worth watching both for its romance set in a time of simmering tensions (much like Casablanca) but also for its staggering lead performances and the simply stunning cinematography. This is a modern classic. Every shot is composed in a manner that harkens back to the Golden Age of Hollywood, French New Wave, and yet never sacrifices Pawel Pawlikowski's unique perspective and voice. I may just watch it again tonight.

4. Green Book: Look, I know this is Driving Miss Daisy in reverse. It has its issues, and trades in clichés, but it serves as the best exemplar of what I term a “Mom movie.” You can take your mother to lunch and then see this as a matinee, and she will think it is charming and that Mahershala and Viggo are delightful. It is the type of heartwarming Hollywood tale that doesn’t receive financing any longer, but the film provides an excellent platform for Mahershala Ali to display his many gifts as an actor. In addition, the exposure that audiences are receiving of the work and legacy of Don Shirley is an unheralded benefit of this film. Don Shirley struggled to gain respect as a classical pianist and he often felt himself relegated to playing what audiences expected of a jazz pianist (blues, and popular hits from Berlin and Porter), while he sought to master technical virtuosity. The musical sequences of the film restore Shirley as a visible marker in the tradition of black pianists from Ellington to Herbie Hancock. Regardless of whatever dumb things screenwriter Nick Vallelonga has said on the Twitter machine, a film that celebrates Shirley with a sensitively crafted performance from Mahershala is worthy of your time.

5. Eighth Grade and Mid90s: I am cheating here, but these two coming-of-age films mesh so well that they can be slotted in the same place. Bo Burnham and Jonah Hill (yes, that Jonah Hill) have helmed directorial debuts that provide a new perspective on the bildungsroman. There is no compulsion to identify the awkward age of middle school as simply a step on the ladder to adulthood but to provide a glimpse into those years that are often tormented and tormenting. With skilled child actors in both parts, these first-time directors structured their films in a way that respect the characters. These are touching, complex figures, and rarely are eighth graders presented in that way, even if we all remember the lack of understanding from our families during that time or our own struggles in communicating the ever-shifting emotional terrain of those years.

6. Can You Ever Forgive Me?: Lee Israel was a respected biographer with a drinking problem who faced a bit of a cash-flow problem, so what did she do? She forged letters from literary luminaries, such as Noel Coward and Dorothy Parker, and sold them to unsuspecting collectors, until the FBI caught up with her. It is a true story that beggars belief. Melissa McCarthy plays the part with pathos, without sacrificing humor, and is paired with Richard E. Grant in the type of role that allows him to break free from the stilted costume drama he was almost pigeonholed into in the 1980s and 1990s. This is the type of character-driven movie that you expect to be in full supply in awards season, and yet this year they seemed to be few and far between.

7. RBG and Won’t You Be My Neighbor?: Cheating again. This was a phenomenal year for non-fiction cinema. I could throw into this category Three Identical Stranger, Whitney,  Reversing Roe, and those Fyre Festival docs. This could actually be a golden age of documentaries. Not only is the supply gargantuan, but they are making money (Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Grossed over $20 million at the North American box office). These particular films focusing on Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Fred Rogers seemed to speak to discontented liberals irate with the Trump administration and the fraying of all norms of political life. These films gave us a sense that perhaps this national nightmare could someday end and we could return to a sense of normalcy where kindness and expertise were once again possible.

8. Black Panther: I often find myself increasingly frustrated at Marvel movies. I sit there often trying to remember what happened three Iron Man movies ago, or wondering why I am learning about Captain America’s parents in a Thor movie (and then expected to remember this detail at the next Captain America movie two years from now!). Ryan Coogler’s Black Panther did not raise my hackles in the same way. It felt like a standalone film that did not require intense understanding of the minutiae of the Marvel universe. Additionally, it felt like the event film of the year, and, unlike all Marvel films previously, it contained a political edge. There on the screen were gathered some of the finest black actors of our generation in a film about a mysterious African nation with the most advanced technology. It may not have quite achieved the radical status of Afro-futurism, since it came clothed in Disney capitalism, but it may be the closest we come for a movie that grossed $1.3 billion worldwide.

9. The Wife: This is a perfect film for our current #MeToo moment. A prominent American novelist is awarded the Nobel Prize. As soon as the early-morning call from Stockholm arrives, something seems amiss in his marriage. A foreboding sense of unease pervades the first three-quarters of the film, until all is upended in a masterful twist. The film is marred by the presence of Christian Slater (what is he doing there in Sweden? I mean, who paid for his flight?? How does he know any of this? What is his backstory? I don’t understand!), but Glenn Close is Glenn Close in all of her nuanced glory. If she doesn’t win the Oscar this time (her seventh nomination!), I may just scream.

10. Isle of Dogs: Another film with many detractors. Allegations of cultural appropriation and insensitivity have run rampant. Several of these criticisms are very valid. Wes Anderson's work embodies the problematic category of precious, as well. Yet I connected formatively to this tale of a young boy who has gone searching for his dog who has been exiled to an island with all the other dogs of this Japanese prefecture. The animation is visually stunning. I cried multiple times--multiple times. 

11. If Beale Street Could Talk: I found Barry Jenkins’ follow-up to Moonlight disappointing. It has some beautiful photography, stunning performances from Stephen James and Regina King, and a script adapted from a fantastic James Baldwin novella, but it failed to hang together. There were tonal shifts that felt jarring. Regina King needed a couple more scenes to shade her role, and Kiki Layne’s blandness failed to capture the layers of Baldwin’s character. There is no denying that Jenkins has a definitive voice and viewpoint, and his fortitude and directorial grace merit attention.

12. Boy Erased: I am all in for this new phase of Nicole Kidman’s career where she plays steely moms whose cracking under pressure somehow leads to renewed invigoration. IT is akin to the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with molten gold. She has done this now with The Beguiled, The Killing of the Sacred Deer, and now with Boy Erased. I am still confused as to why a cast and crew of Australians (Director Joel Edgerton, Kidman, Russell Crowe, and Troye Sivan) decided to make a movie about gay conversion therapy in Texas, but it is an earnest and serious film. It may be a little heavy on the moralization, but Lucas Hedges has proven himself to be a formidable actor. However, it is Nicole who stood out and softened to moralistic tone with her quiet glamor.

13. A Quiet Place: From Crazy Rich Asians to the latest iteration of Mission: Impossible, a group of high-budget and high-grossing films hit that cinematic sweet spot of critical and commercial acclaim. Besides the aforementioned Black Panther, I would also list John Krasinski’s literally quiet horror film as one of the year’s best. A harrowing tale of a family living in some wretched, horrifying post-apocalypse, where sounds trip off alien invaders to your presence and imminent death. The anxiety is almost immediate because Emily Blunt is pregnant early on. How it god’s name is she going to give birth silently? Brace yourself for white-knuckle viewing.



Honorable Mentions:

Hereditary: So weird, so strange, perhaps a bit nonsensical, but oddly compelling.

Colette: A sober, and yet very pretty biopic of the French novelist, most famous for Gigi. Keira Knightley has cornered the market on these types of historical personages.

Vice: Just for the makeup and Bale’s transformation. The movie itself is a mess.