Top Films of 2015
Top Films of 2015
1.
Brooklyn—I
have here chosen a problematic film for this year as my top choice. Yes, this
is the whitest movie of a very white year of Academy nominations. Here we have
an old-fashioned, safe, innocuous story of love found and questioned by an
Irish immigrant in post-war America. This charming narrative, however, is riven
by our very present concerns of inclusion and diversity. Here we have a story
of a New York borough where the only diversity comes from Italians and Irish girls trying
to deal with their own xenophobia. How have we created a vision of Brooklyn in
the 1950’s that erases the presence of blacks, Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, and
Jews? This film in its technicolor glory
and its superb, tight script by Nick Hornby (based on a novel by Colm Toibin)
exposes the blindness of all aspects of the Hollywood studio system; it serves
as an indictment of a system that refuses to change. As Viola Davis stated in
her Emmy acceptance speech in September, “the only thing that separates women
of color from anyone else is opportunity. You cannot win an Emmy for roles that
are simply not there.” With a slate of films that investigate, probe, or
sometimes simply celebrate whiteness, we have not overlooked black actors
(except in the case of Idris Elba), we have simply ignored them in casting them
in anything other than a funny sidekick, a nefarious criminal, or faces to
bring in local color. Although Brooklyn is the most charming film of the year,
it is a film that demonstrates how far we have yet to go to create an American
culture of inclusivity that respects and honors the voices of those that live
outside the confines of whiteness, however broadly defined.
2.
The
Revenant—In a masterful revisionist western, Alejandro G. Iñárritu has constructed
a view of the harsh, violent reality of the nineteenth-century frontier.
Following the trials and tribulations of Hugh Glass, who experiences some of
the most brutal details of survivor narratives, the film exposes the racism,
aggression, and fear that undergirded the experience of these explorers and
furriers. The “whoosh” of arrows, the dark unknown beyond the trees, and the
constant terror of dangers both manmade and natural around every corner create
the tense atmosphere of a slasher film; however, what Iñárritu achieves is a
radical re-assessment of the Western. These are not the Indians of Hopalong
Cassidy; this is not the honor system of Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven; this is a brutal world of male exhibitionism that
simply masks a culture of death and dread.
3.
Mad Max:
Fury Road—In another revisionist Western, George Miller has outfitted the
legendary Australian outback post-apocalyptic with a refreshing feminist lens.
Eve Ensler famously served as a consultant on the film to provide the female
characters with such shocking things as motivation, delineation, and desire. Charlize
Theron has become one of the most complex frontier women since Joan Crawford
and Mercedes McCambridge dueled in Nicholas Ray’s Johnny Guitar (1954). She rages; she cowers; she storms. The plot
may have a few problems: they travel a very long way, only to decide to turn
around and go back the way they came. The interplay between a set of
well-defined characters brings this franchise into the 21st century.
4.
Carol—Todd
Haynes’ quiet adaptation of a Patricia Highsmith novel traces the lines of
desire between two women divided by class and upbringing in 1950’s Manhattan.
Cate the Great Blanchett constructs a woman of fragility and passion masked by
a façade of icy superiority. Rooney Mara shines as an upstart store clerk, unsure of her
own feelings. In this film, the men are brutes unaware of their selfish demands
that see women as merely the accessories of their successful lives. The drama
emerges from this conflict of women wishing a fulfilled existence that negates
the presence of men. These men fight these tendencies but with absolutely no
understanding of the pleas of these women with whom they wish to outfit their
homes of domestic bliss. Cate’s final monologue is a master class in poise and
control.
5.
Spotlight—A
superb ensemble cast led by Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo, Rachel McAdams and
Brian D’Arcy James relates the story of the Boston Globe’s attempts to expose
how the pedophilia scandal of the Catholic Church reached into the highest
echelons of the structure of the institution in the fall of 2001. The desires
of this journalistic team to expose a story and to give voice of the victims
of sexual abuse comes into a direct conflict with their editor (Live Schrieber)
who is certain that the story is deeper and bigger. The uncovering of how the
Church moved priests time and time again to different parishes leads to an
explosive set of stories that no good Catholic in Boston could ignore. The
scandal was at every level of the Church and it was not a mere example of a bad
apple or two.
6.
Room—A
harrowing film based on Emma Donoghue’s novel about a woman kept imprisoned for
years in an environment of rape with her son bred of this assault is a fine
example of cinematic relation of trauma and resilience. How do we imagine a
child who has known only two individuals for his six years of life would be
reintegrated into a society he has never known? Brie Larson’s finely crafted
and raw performance takes an interesting character in a novel into a fully-fledged
example of pain, persecution and survival. She does deserve the Oscar. The film
has not performed terribly well at the box office (currently grossing only $7
million in the North American market), but it is a film whose power is
undeniable, even if it proves for difficult viewing material.
7.
Beasts of
No Nation—Cary Fukunaga is a master of crafting narratives that take
characters whose motivations may seem morally repugnant and investigating
exactly how such individuals can rationally come to make such decisions. Here
we find Idris Elba (in a role for which he should have been nominated) playing a
commandant of a small army of child soldiers in Ghana during a brutal civil
war. Although the film does not do enough to trouble the narrative of the
exceptionalism of African violence, we do witness the story of a brutal
commander who sees his role as a protector and savior for the nation and his
children, even if that paternal role results in the sacrificing of children to
the horrors of war or to his own sexual desires. It is a complex and
complicated piece.
8.
Ex
Machina—The film industry managed to create a set of films that questioned
the received structures of genres, such as the western, the boxing film, and
here a scifi piece. We see a cyborg created with emotional human tendencies,
including deception and self-aggrandizement. Oscar Isaac and Alicia Vikander
perform off one another’s strengths in a tug-of-war of power. Isaac, who has
become one of our most prominent actors (without being labeled and pigeon-holed
as a Hispanic actor), delights in a performance that hovers around a morally
ambiguous center but never fully disposes of humor. His vacillations keep both
the other characters and the audience uncertain of what may happen next.
9.
Inside
Out—Pixar created a bold vision of how the emotions in our head battle each
other for prominence, only to learn that they all must work together in order
to create the individual whom they drive. If you fail to feel anything at Bing
Bong’s last scene, you are dead inside.
10.
Straight
Outta Compton and Dope—Two fine
hip-hop films demonstrated the pressures of the film industry to craft films
that relate the black experience without pandering to the audience. Straight
Outta Compton’s brash, big Hollywood-style portrayal of the rise and fall of
NWA harkens back to musical biopics from the 1950s about Lorenz and Hart,
Lillian Roth, Jane Froman or Cole Porter. These stars witness a meteoric rise,
only to encounter obstacles created by the industry, their relationships with
one another, and the demands of fame. Some fail to rise again, while others
adapt. Dope, on the other hand, took a quiet approach to following a group of
youths who revel in nostalgia for early 90’s hip-hop, unsure of where they fit
in their neighborhood and culture. This small indie, which was a huge hit at
Sundance, made only a fraction of Compton’s box-office intake, but, in fact,
broke through more stereotypes in its crafting of characters forging their own
identities that appear to be in conflict with those around them.
11.
The
Martian—I have become a huge fan of having a big space movie every fall.
First, it was Gravity’s technical prowess that stunned us, then Interstellar
demonstrated a perhaps pretentious but fascinating narrative of spiritual angst
in the universe. Ridley Scott’s film doesn’t quite achieve either of those two
films’ high aspirations, but it does tell a rollicking good story guided by a
tongue-in-cheek performance from Matt Damon. It is fun, and it is relevant with
our latest discoveries from Mars that demonstrate that perhaps in Interstellar
McConaughey should have just taken his group to Mars rather than going through
wormholes.
12.
Creed—Rocky
Balboa punched his way into the American consciousness in 1976. Nearly forty
years later, Stallone comes back to train the son of his former rival, Apollo
Creed. This is a fine example of a genre film that makes us question the usual
structures of that genre. Ryan Coogler, who became an indie darling with Fruitvale Station, has now demonstrated
soundly to Hollywood that he can direct a big-budget film as well.
13.
Clouds of
Sils Maria—Kristen Stewart received heaps of praise for this film,
including becoming the first (?!) American actress ever to receive a
competitive César Award (the French equivalent of the Oscar). However, it is
not Stewart that dominates this complicated tale of an actress revisiting one
of her earlier successes in a new film. Juliette Binoche commands her presence,
and her generosity as an actor allows Stewart to appear more human than she
ever has on screen. Binoche occupies a storied place among French actresses,
along with Jeanne Moreau, Catherine Deneuve, only Marion Cotillard rivals her
for force and variability.
Honorable Mentions:
Noah Baumbach has softened his
navel-gazing ways in a recent stream of movies. Although his characters are
still troubling narcissists, his films have become more highly attuned to
competing desires and narratives with a keener eye for visual ingenuity and
more satisfying structures. This year, he told the stories of a set of rather
bumbling misfits in Mistress America and
While We’re Young that form an interesting
trilogy with Frances Ha.
The Big Short narrates a complicated set of events that underpinned
the collapse of financial markets in 2008. Adam McKay, who previously directed
Will Ferrell gross-out comedies, has not traded in comedy for serious Oscar
fare, but rather has directed his eye towards more sophisticated stories while
still maintaining that comedic flare.
Far from the Madding Crowd is typical Thomas Hardy fare. Love
triangles, missed connections, returns of ghosts, and a woman who is faced with
obstacles that verge on the sadistic. Carey Mulligan’s intensity is on display
yet again, and its timid portrayal marks her as someone who should be more
highly sought after than she is.
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