The 100 Best Movie Performances of 2021

I’ve already counted down my favorite films of the year (if you missed that list, check it out HERE!) but what about performances? In one of my most compulsive activities, I’ve spent all year keeping track of my favorite film performances, and have whittled the list down to my 100 favorites. Did yours make the list? Find out below!

 

100) Sandra Hüller as The Employee—I’m Your Man

 

99) Bradley Cooper as Stanton Carlisle—Nightmare Alley

 

98) Brenda Deiss as Lil—Red Rocket

 

97) David Rysdahl as Mike—Nine Days

 

96) Jim Broadbent as The King—A Boy Called Christmas

 

95) David Marsais as Jean-Gab—Mandibles

 

94) Jila Shahi as Zaman—There Is No Evil

 

93) Lynn Cohen as Mrs. Litvak—The Vigil

 

92) Sienna Sayer as Rachel—Martyrs Lane

 

91) Rachel Zegler as Maria—West Side Story

90) Denzel Washington as Macbeth—The Tragedy of Macbeth

 

89) Jesse Plemons as George Burbank—The Power of the Dog

 

88) LaKeith Stanfield as Cherokee Bill—The Harder They Fall

 

87) Max Harwood as Jamie New—Everybody’s Talking About Jamie

 

86) Kotone Furukawa as Meiko—Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

 

85) André Holland as Brian Redfield—Passing

 

84) Jude Hill as Buddy—Belfast

 

83) Adarsh Gourav as Balram Halwai—The White Tiger

 

82) Alana Haim as Alana Kane—Licorice Pizza

 

81) Robin de Jesús as Michael—tick, tick…BOOM!

80) Mohammad Valizadegan as Javad—There Is No Evil

 

79) Amy Seimetz as Mary Wertz—No Sudden Move

 

78) Amir Jadidi as Rahim Soltani—A Hero

 

77) Grégoire Ludig as Manu—Mandibles

 

76) Gillian Wallace Horvat as Gillian Wallace Horvat—I Blame Society

 

75) Marion Cotillard as Ann Defrasnoux—Annette

 

74) Jayne Houdyshell as Deirdre Blake—The Humans

 

73) Jessie Buckley as Leda Caruso—The Lost Daughter

 

72) Jesse Plemons as Roy Mitchell—Judas and the Black Messiah

 

71) Danielle Deadwyler as Cuffee—The Harder They Fall

70) Richard Jenkins as Erik Blake—The Humans

 

69) Jerry Mofokeng Wa Makhetha as The Lesiba Player—This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection

 

68) Mahtab Servati as Nana—There Is No Evil

 

67) Katsuki Mori as Nao—Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

 

66) Ciarán Hinds as Pop—Belfast

 

65) Colman Domingo as Abegunde “X” Olawale—Zola

 

64) Katja Herbers as Femke Boot—The Columnist

 

63) Mike Faist as Riff—West Side Story

 

62) Adèle Exarchopoulos as Agnès—Mandibles

 

61) Jim Cummings as Jordan Hines—The Beta Test

60) Clayne Crawford as David—The Killing of Two Lovers

 

59) Beanie Feldstein as Brigid—The Humans

 

58) Isabelle Fuhrman as Alex Dall—The Novice

 

57) Regina King as Trudy Smith—The Harder They Fall

 

56) Jeffrey Wright as Roebuck Wright—The French Dispatch

 

55) Dakota Johnson as Nina—The Lost Daughter

 

54) Suzanna Son as Raylee—Red Rocket

 

53) Ariana De Bose as Anita—West Side Story

 

52) Anders Danielsen Lie as Aksel—The Worst Person in the World

 

51) David Strathairn as Pete Krumbein—Nightmare Alley

50) Gaby Hoffmann as Viv—C’mon C’mon

 

49) Alec Utgoff as Zhenia—Never Gonna Snow Again

 

48) Kirsten Dunst as Rose Gordon—The Power of the Dog

 

47) Ehsan Mirhosseini as Heshmat—There Is No Evil

 

46) Dominique Fishback as Deborah Johnson—Judas and the Black Messiah

 

45) Dev Patel as Gawain—The Green Knight

 

44) Vikash Bhai as Farhad—Limbo

 

43) Troy Kotsur as Frank Rossi—CODA

 

42) Kiera Thompson as Leah—Martyrs Lane

 

41) Aris Servetalis as Aris—Apples

40) Zazie Beetz as Emma—Nine Days

 

39) Aoba Kawai as Nana Aya—Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

 

38) Mads Mikkelsen as Markus—Riders of Justice

 

37) Ann Dowd as Linda—Mass

 

36) Jasna Đuričić as Aida Selmanagić—Quo Vadis, Aida?

 

35) Olga Merediz as “Abuela” Claudia—In the Heights

 

34) Olivia Colman as Anne—The Father

 

33) Reed Birney as Richard—Mass

 

32) Haley Bennett as Roxanne—Cyrano

 

31) Amir El-Masry as Omar—Limbo

30) Valerie Mahaffey as Mme. Reynard—French Exit

 

29) Aitana Sánchez-Gijón as Teresa Ferreras—Parallel Mothers

 

28) Woody Norman as Jesse—C’mon C’mon

 

27) Mohammad Seddighimehr as Bahram—There Is No Evil

 

26) Winston Duke as Will—Nine Days

 

25) Léa Seydoux as France de Meurs—France

 

24) Hidetoshi Nishijima as Yūsuke Kafuku—Drive My Car

 

23) Tessa Thompson as Irene “Reenie” Redfield—Passing

 

22) Renate Reinsve as Julie—The Worst Person in the World

 

21) Penélope Cruz as Janis Martinez—Parallel Mothers

20) Fusako Urabe as Moka Natsuko—Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

 

19) Michelle Pfeiffer as Frances Price—French Exit

 

18) Maren Eggert as Dr. Alma Felser—I’m Your Man

 

17) Peter Dinklage as Cyrano de Bergerac—Cyrano

 

16) Jason Isaacs as Jay Perry—Mass

 

15) Agathe Rousselle as Alexia—Titane

 

14) Adam Driver as Henry McHenry—Annette

 

13) Patti Harrison as Anna—Together Together

 

12) Ruth Negga as Clare Bellew—Passing

 

11) Magdalena Koleśnik as Sylwia Zajac—Sweat

10) Anthony Hopkins as Anthony—The Father

9) Dan Stevens as Tom—I’m Your Man

8) Martha Plimpton as Gail Perry—Mass

7) LaKeith Stanfield as Bill O’Neal—Judas and the Black Messiah

6) Simon Rex as Mikey Davies/Mikey Saber—Red Rocket

5) Olivia Colman as Leda Caruso—The Lost Daughter

4) Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny—C’mon C’mon

3) Daniel Kaluuya as Fred Hampton—Judas and the Black Messiah

2) Kathryn Hunter as The Witches—The Tragedy of Macbeth

 

And my pick for the best performance of 2021 is...

1) Mary Twala as Mantoa—This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection

 

 

A couple of notable statistics:

 

The only actors to make more than one appearance are Olivia Colman, LaKeith Stanfield, and Jesse Plemons, with two appearances apiece.

 

With 5 performances mentioned, There Is No Evil is the film with the most entries on my list. That's followed by Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy, Judas and the Black Messiah, and Mass, with 4 apiece.

 

But that's my list. What does yours look like? What performances do you think I overlooked? Which ones do you agree with. Which ones are you yet to see? Let me know in the comments!

The Best Films of 2021: Part 2

In Part 1 of my annual “Best Of” countdown, I already went through 20 of the amazing movies that 2021 had to offer. Now, here are my absolute favorites.

 

#10 Together Together

In many ways, Together Together is a standard-issue rom-com. The films follows a new relationship between Matt and Anna (Ed Helms and Patti Harrison) and explores the ways in which that relationship develops. They learn about each other, they support each other, they argue, and they make big decisions about their future together. But there’s one big thing that sets Together Together apart from other rom-coms: Matt and Anna are not in a romantic relationship. Matt is a single man eager to become a father, and Anna is the surrogate carrying his baby to term. It’s an interesting angle to pursue, and the lack of romance doesn’t take away from the seriousness of the relationship or the platonic intimacy between the two. In fact, it allows Nikole Beckwith’s excellent screenplay to dig even deeper into the dynamics of their relationship without the distraction of attraction. The relationship at the center of Together Together is one that I’ve never seen represented on film before—it's a friendship, but it’s also a lot more. As Anna’s boss Jules (a truly hilarious Julio Torres) says, “I know you’re not fucking, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have a thing. It’s something. And it’s finite. Just because you’re not ‘together together’ doesn’t mean you haven’t created a bond.” These types of relationships exist out in the world, and it’s wonderful seeing one displayed in all of its complexity without succumbing to pressure to make it “more” than what it is. Of course, any rom-com (or non-rom-com, I guess) survives on the strength of the couple at its center. Helms and Harrison have a wonderful presence on screen together, and maintain a lovely rapport throughout the film. Helms’ natural affability is on full display here. I feel like his filmography never really took off the way it once seemed destined to, but this performance proves he has the chops to be a reliable headliner. But it’s Harrison who truly commands the film. Her arc as Anna is the heftier one, and the more complex one, but Harrison makes it look easy. Her on-screen presence is cool and enigmatic, and hints at a larger life and emotional range beyond just what’s shown in the scenes we’re privy to. It’s an immensely confident performance, and her internal arc is what truly makes Together Together so wonderful.

 

#9 Limbo

A comedy about the treatment of refugees might be difficult to imagine, but Ben Sharrock’s incredible debut sold me on the concept within the first five minutes. This is a film with a strong sense of identity wins you over easily with its quirky charm, and then gets under your skin with its emotional message. Limbo tells the story of Omar (Amir El-Masry), a Syrian musician living with other refugees on a remote Scottish island while they await the results of their claims for asylum. As the title suggests, Limbo is a story about the painfulness of waiting, especially for a decision that is so completely out of your hands. In one of the film’s most distinctive conventions, Omar and his fellow refugees take a series of classes taught by Helga and Boris (Sidse Babett Knudsen and Kenneth Collard) supposedly meant to teach them about life in their new country. These classes are, of course, utterly bizarre, and blatantly unhelpful. Instead, Omar’s real lessons rise from his own observations from his surroundings. El-Masry is wonderful to watch—Omar is a quiet character, but you can see how active he is despite his passivity. For a movie that frequently relies on long stretches of silence, it always feels like something is going on thanks to his intriguing central performance. And Omar isn’t the only intriguing character. The other refugees he lives with (Kwabena Ansah, Ola Orebiyi, and Vikash Bhai) also give wonderful performances, especially Bhai, whose character of Farhad is one of the most memorable of the year. He’s quirky and tragic, and compliments Omar’s stoicism nicely. As funny as Limbo is (and it really is frequently laugh-out-loud funny) it ultimately succeeds because of the strength of its story and its message. While it nicely highlights the absurdity of the situation these refugees are in, eventually the bleak reality of their situation takes over and Sharrock knows exactly how to navigate a drastic tone shift while still making the film feel cohesive in tone. It all leads to a climax that is fairly predictable, but still wonderful to behold, and rather poetic in its execution. Limbo isn’t blind to the harsh reality of the situation it’s depicting, but still strives for hopefulness without feeling dismissive. There’s another notable film this year that considers itself a comedy about a “big issue” (hint: it’s inexplicably going to be a Best Picture nominee despite a 55% Rotten Tomatoes score) but if you compare that film and Limbo, I think it should be clear just how much stronger (and funnier!) Limbo is. We need more films like this. Perhaps Sharrock’s next effort will garner more attention.

 

#8 I’m Your Man

Perhaps it’s due to how rapidly technology has become a part of our lives, and perhaps it’s because of the success of Black Mirror, but technology-based sci-fi is having a moment of late. The German film I’m Your Man (which made the shortlist for the International Film Oscar) is one of the most intelligent entries into this genre. And while its ultimate message is one that’s been conveyed on film many times before, it’s rarely presented this eloquently. The film follows Dr. Alma Felser (Maren Eggert), an archaeologist who reluctantly agrees to act as a tester for a new product: a robot designed to simulate romantic companionship (and no, not just a sex robot, but an actual partner). She’s assigned the robot Tom (Dan Stevens), whose seeming perfection is immediately irritating to the love-averse Alma. She’s clearly uncomfortable with the very idea of this new invention, and much of the early part of the film plays out like a standard rom-com, observing the growing pains of a new couple (where one of them happens to be a robot). But as the film progresses, it becomes clear that writer/director Maria Schrader has a lot to say about life and love, and what genuine human connection actually means. It’s an unpretentious portrayal of love: both in showing the messiness that comes with sharing your life with another person, and in showing the joy and security that this sort of connection can bring. The greatest surprise is how hopeful the film actually is. The second greatest surprise is the performance of Stevens. Stevens has been in a lot of projects over the last few years, and I’ve often felt like he’s not given a lot to work with. His performance in I’m Your Man is easily his best and most interesting work to date. What’s fascinating is that, as a robot, Tom’s directive is to become more human. Stevens has to chart this progress from scene to scene, starting off stilted and gradually becoming more lifelike scene by scene. When his character experiences hurt, we SEE that difference in the rest of the film. The film’s thesis rests on this change, and Stevens rises to the challenge with ease. The film only works if the audience falls in love with Tom in line with Alma, and thanks to Stevens’ stellar performance, that’s exactly what happens.

 

#7 Nine Days

There have been many cinematic depictions of the afterlife, examining the question of what does it look like once we’re no longer on earth. But there are far fewer depictions of a “beforelife.” It’s a bit of a surprise when you stop to think of it. The afterlife might feel like more of a profound unknown, but when it comes to a question of souls and “the meaning of it all,” surely the place where we are before coming to Earth is as good of a setting to examine these ideas as wherever we go afterwards. That’s the backdrop for Nine Days, a new film from Edson Oda which starts with one of the most intriguing premises of the year, and only gets better from there. The film follows Will (Winston Duke), some sort of supernatural arbiter whose job is to interview potential souls and choose who gets the opportunity to live a life on Earth. After one of Will’s previous selections, Amanda, kills herself unexpectedly, Will meets a group of new candidates and must choose who will fill that vacancy at the end of a nine-day process. The stakes are unbelievably high from the outset—both for the candidates (if one thought death was the ultimate high stakes, never existing is even higher) and for Will himself, who feels an additional burden to choose correctly after feeling like he is responsible for Amanda’s suffering. These characters are wonderful—even the candidates who we don’t get to spend as much time with make a wonderful impression and are a colorful lineup of distinct personalities. And Will himself is a fascinating character at the film’s center—an awkward and lovable being who is wholeheartedly human even as he struggles to figure out what exactly that might mean. As Nine Days goes on its philosophical journey, there are multiple beautiful moments. But one of my favorite conceits of Nine Days is the gift that Will gives to each candidate who doesn’t make it to Earth. After he turns down the candidates, he offers them the chance to experience one life event of their choosing, which he attempts to recreate in his studio. Simple moments like going to a beach or riding a bike become major productions, and take on a newfound beauty in the eyes of these characters. Nine Days made me think, and made me cry. It’s one of the most original films of the year, and I’m so sad that it passed by unnoticed this year. Do yourself a favor and experience Nine Days. If this is what Oda has accomplished in his feature debut, I can only imagine what wonders he will bring to the screen next.

 

#6 C’mon C’mon

I don’t understand the industry’s continued apathy towards Mike Mills. His films have always picked up their fair share of accolades, in particular for the performances, but I don’t think any of his movies have ever received the attention they deserved. For me, he’s one of the most essential American filmmakers working today, and his films are some of the most sensitive and intelligent movies about family ever made. C’mon C’mon is his latest classic, and I’m frustrated that it has faded quite a bit from the awards season conversation. C’mon C’mon follows Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix), a radio journalist in the middle of a large interview project. When his sister Viv (Gaby Hoffmann) has to spend time caring for her estranged bipolar husband (Scoot McNairy), Johnny agrees to look after their nine-year-old son Jesse (Woody Norman). Mills has a real talent for bringing a great deal of complexity to what seems like a straightforward story, and he’s showcased that talent again here. While the story follows a basic arc that we’ve seen many times before (kid and unlikely guardian butt heads, then reconcile, and form a lasting and significant relationship), the way that story unfolds feels both genuine and surprising, and Mills brings real stakes to a story that should have been a lot more predictable. What’s wonderful about C’mon C’mon is that it feels wise without feeling pretentious. The characters’ struggles are just presented so honestly that you can’t help but love them and root for them. The cast is wonderful. Norman is a revelation, and Hoffmann is a fantastic presence throughout the films. Even much smaller roles, like McNairy’s, leave an impression. And while they’re not exactly acting, the kids who are interviewed by Johnny for his radio project are joyous. But of course, the star here is Phoenix. Phoenix is an incredible actor, but his performances sometimes lose me when he’s not reigned in (I much prefer his work in Her to Joker, for example). But he’s really marvelous here. There’s a vulnerability to his performance that is unmatched by any other this year. You don’t feel like he’s acting, you just feel like you’re observing him. It’s not my pick for the best Joaquin Phoenix performance (that honor will probably always belong to You Were Never Really Here) but C’mon C’mon is a close second. As artists, both Phoenix and Mills place a lot of trust in their audience. Their work here is understated, but incredibly strong and surprisingly joyous.

 

#5 I Blame Society

During the two previous awards seasons, there have been two films featuring “edgy” characters which I’ve gone on record as not being a big fan of: Joker and Promising Young Woman. I don’t want to rehash my specific criticisms of each film (which I’ve laid out in previous Oscars analysis on this blog), but on the whole I ultimately felt like both films failed to achieve the goal they’d set for themselves. Neither of these main characters felt particularly dangerous to me, in a way that the film’s success seemed to hinge on, and so their behavior felt non-sensical (and a bit silly and contrived) as opposed to chaotic or suspenseful to me. And if fans of those films don’t understand what I’m possibly talking about, I will now always direct them to I Blame Society, one of the most underrated movies of the year. It’s a low-budget marvel of character and chaos. Director and co-writer Gillian Wallace Horvat stars as a (hopefully mostly) fictionalized version of herself: a struggling filmmaker who, while working on her latest project, devolves into a serial killer. Now THIS is a character who actually feels dangerous. Even before she kills anyone, it becomes clear that she’s capable of tremendous violence. But as erratic as her behavior is, the films avoids feeling like it has abandoned the rules it has set out. As chaotic as her behavior is, Gillian clearly lives by her own warped sense of morals and logic, and those remain consistent throughout the film. At one point, her concerned boyfriend cautiously reminds her that, “There’s no movie that is worth hurting someone for,” to which she replies, “I don’t agree. If it’s a very bad person for a very good movie.” It’s a reprehensible thing to say, of course, but I Blame Society never tips its hat to how ludicrous it knows it is. Sometimes, the film even pulls off a wonderfully uncomfortable trick when you find yourself agreeing with Gillian despite her terrible actions. When Gillian eavesdrops on the most obnoxious person on the planet, and then smilingly says to the camera, “He has to die,” it’s impossible to not at least understand the sentiment. Perhaps what sets it apart from films like the ones I mentioned above is that it’s actively unconcerned with whether you find the protagonist likeable or not. Instead, it simply invites you to come along for the ride and lets Gillian’s journey speak to you however you see fit. In doing so, it manages to be a lot more insightful and interesting. I should also mention that this script is unbelievably funny. Those who can’t watch cringe comedy should maybe stay away, but it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed so much at a movie. Oftentimes, I’d find myself laughing and gasping in horror in the same scene—sometimes during the same line. It’s comedy by way of dread. Wallace Horvat and her co-write Chase Williamson (who also plays a character in the film) have a distinct comic voice that is wonderfully defined and confident, and genuinely pushes boundaries without being offensive. And the humor in the film isn’t extraneous—the comedy is an inherent part of the storytelling, and the use of comedy reveals a lot about the characters (and a lot about the audience watching). I Blame Society looks like it was made with practically no budget, but its strong sense of perspective marks Gillian Wallace Horvat as a tremendous talent and I cannot wait to see what she does next. I Blame Society may not have gotten any attention during its initial run, but hopefully it can be recognized as a cult classic. Honestly, it would be fitting.

 

#4 The Father

Before I saw The Father, I thought I knew exactly what kind of movie it would be. I thought it would be your run-of-the-mill Alzheimer’s family drama, with some good work by some good actors, but ultimately a really depressing movie that I’ve seen many times before. But within the first few minutes of the film, I was shocked to find out that not only was this movie not what I was expecting, but I was immediately hooked. There has never been a film about Alzheimer’s like this one. What sets The Father apart from other stories about this subject is that it tells its story from the perspective of the person who has Alzheimer’s. Instead of just trying to make its audience feel sad, it makes us feel disoriented. I don’t know if I’d say that The Father is a horror movie outright, but it uses horror tropes to tell its story in a way that it is visceral and spellbinding. Time shifts, the set shifts, and characters change names and faces in front of our eyes. It’s brilliant, and allows us as an audience to feel the same paranoia and confusion that the main character feels. We don’t feel sorry for the character, we have a chance to genuinely empathize with them. But what makes The Father so masterful is that it pulls this off while still maintaining clarity. Even though we see things from our main character’s unreliable perspective, The Father plays out like a mystery. We get to piece together a true narrative from the fragments we’re presented with. This film is far more like Memento than Still Alice. And, of course, one can’t talk about The Father without talking about the excellent performances. Unfortunately, The Father is probably going to be best remembered for the Best Actor in a Leading Role debacle at The Oscars. For those who somehow missed it, The Oscars made a baffling decision last year to award Best Picture over the final two acting awards, making Best Actor in a Leading Role the final category of the night. It was seemingly done in anticipation of Chadwick Boseman winning—as that win for the tragically departed actor would have been a climactic end of the evening. Instead, the award of course went to Anthony Hopkins for The Father, who wasn’t even present to accept the award. So everyone was disappointed about Boseman, and then Joaquin Phoenix just sort of calmly accepted the award on Hopkins’ behalf, and then everyone suddenly went home. It was unbelievably awkward, and unfairly set up Hopkins’ win as being at Boseman’s expense. But if you put that snafu aside, I do think Hopkins earned that award with this performance. Hopkins’ filmography is formidable, but this just might be career-best work from him. It's subtle, while still being emotionally raw. It’s rare for an actor as recognizable as Hopkins to truly disappear into a role, but that’s what he does here, and the film would not have worked as well if not for his work. And the rest of the small cast is also excellent. The ensemble of Olivia Colman, Mark Gatiss, Imogen Poots, Rufus Sewell, and Olivia Williams match Hopkins in every scene. Everything about The Father is a masterclass in innovative storytelling. If the film didn’t seem of interest to you initially, I urge you to take a chance on it. I guarantee it will surprise you.

 

#3 Judas and the Black Messiah

While it obviously did quite well, I still don’t understand how Judas and the Black Messiah didn’t completely dominate the awards season last year. This is the rare example of a film that feels like Oscar bait which still maintains a high degree of artistry. Absolutely everything about this film works, and even though it was released in February of 2021, I never had any doubts it would be firmly towards the top of my year-end list upon my first viewing. It’s bold, energetic, and genuinely thrilling, and is the rare period piece to still feel contemporary and relevant. And while the film’s two stars are the ones who received the brunt of the accolades during last year’s awards season, director and co-writer Shaka King is a major talent who I hope will gain deserved recognition in the future. Judas and the Black Messiah tells the story of Bill O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield), an FBI Informant who infiltrated the Black Panther Party, and whose betrayal ultimately led to the assassination of activist Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya). It’s a vital story, and one that goes well-beyond the history taught in schools. Kaluuya won the Oscar for this role and undoubtedly deserved it. His performance as Hampton is captivating and heroic—he doesn’t just indicate Hampton’s heroism, he embodies it. It’s a portrayal that goes beyond mere imitation, so that you understand not Hampton for who he was AND who others perceived him as. But the film’s masterful feat is that it also provides complexity to O’Neal. Stanfield is one of the best actors working today, and he had an incredibly difficult challenge as O’Neal. It would be easy to dismiss O’Neal as cowardly or traitorous, but this film has no interest in that narrative. Rather, it acknowledges that O’Neal was similarly a victim of a much larger conspiracy at play. Hampton may have been the FBI’s target, but O’Neal was similarly a casualty, and the film shows a great amount of empathy for both. Despite his involvement in Hampton’s death, O’Neal is still a person that Hampton was fighting for—and the film understands that fight implicitly. It’s a cautionary tale that also serves as a sobering call to action.

 

#2 There Is No Evil

Some of the most powerful art comes from places where art is most censored. Artists either have to figure out a way to hide a message in their work that won’t be understood by the government, or they throw caution to the wind and brazenly make a statement in the face of potential consequences. are few places where art—and film in particular—is more censored, and the result is a wave of work that is bold, creative, and immensely political and thoughtful. Some of Iran’s finest directors have been charged with filmmaking bans, and must make their work in secret. It’s essential work that demands to be seen, and Mohammad Rasoulof’s There Is No Evil is the latest film to solidify Iranian cinema as some of the most incredible in the world right now. Banned from being shown in Iran, this anthology film features four separate stories that focus on the death penalty in Iran—specifically four men who are either currently or were previously enlisted as executioners. If that sounds dark then, yeah you’re right it definitely is, but Rasoulof isn’t interested in being exploitative or heavy-handed. He doesn’t get bogged down with political intricacies, and rather presents his four chapters as moral parables, focusing on the characters’ stories as opposed to hitting you on the head with what he’s trying to say. Anthology films can often suffer from a lack of cohesion, but these four pieces work together perfectly. Each works and feels complete on its own, and Rasoulof establishes a different tone and aesthetic for all four films. But they benefit from being presented with the other offerings, as certain themes resonate and shift as you view the films in succession. All four are strong, but I was particularly taken with the first and last films. The first, also titled “There Is No Evil,” follows Heshmat (Ehsan Mirhosseini), a seemingly ordinary man simply going about his day with his family. It is a masterclass in restraint, seemingly mundane up until a true gutpunch of an ending—it quietly sets the tone for the rest of the film, and is a film that holds up under repeat viewings. The fourth and last entry, “Kiss Me,” is the most epic and far-reaching of the four installments; the four films crescendo nicely in terms of scope and intensity. It follows a couple (Mohammad Seddighimehr and Jilla Shahi) who are visited by their niece Darya (Baran Rasoulof, the director’s daughter) at their secluded home where they keep bees. The first three films deal with a series of characters forced to make choices, but “Kiss Me” is the one that most deals with the aftershocks of making such a choice, and the effects that such a dilemma might have on someone’s sense of morality. There Is No Evil gives its audience a glimpse into the difficulties of life under this government’s control, while making grander points about humanity which will resonate no matter where you are watching from. If you are interested in exploring Iranian cinema, it’s hard to imagine a better example of what makes it so distinct and powerful.

 

#1 This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection

It is quite difficult for African films to find international recognition. But there is a vibrant film culture in Africa, and I’m glad whenever a film from that continent breaks through and gains wider distribution. The country of Lesotho in particular is not widely known for its films. I couldn’t find out for sure if This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection is the first film the country of Lesotho to ever get a release in the United States, but it is definitely the first has ever submitted to the International Film category at the Oscars, and is certainly the first film from Lesotho I’ve ever heard of. That alone made it a film I wanted to seek out, and I’m so glad I did. There were many excellent films released this year. This Is Not a Burial, It’s a Resurrection is the only I one I can refer to as a masterpiece. The film follows Mantoa (The late, great South African actress Mary Twala), a widow mourning the recent loss of her son, who leads her whole town to rise up against a proposal for a dam that would flood the local cemetery. The story is clear, substantive, and familiar—many reviewers spoke to how it plays out like a modern-day fable. But the story primarily serves as a backdrop for writer/director Lemohang Jeremiah Mosese to bring to the screen interpretations and visualizations of themes like grief, pride, and resistance. It’s nothing short of cinematic poetry. This is a movie that you feel rather than watch, and it was utterly breathtaking to experience. Mosese is a profound talent, who understands film as an artform innately. His work here is profound and beautiful and haunting in ways that most directors can only hope to aspire to. His cast is also excellent, with a standout being Jerry Mofokeng Wa as the film’s narrator, credited only as The Lesiba Player. This man’s voice is intoxicating, and this film features as great a use of voiceover narration as I’ve ever seen. But the clear standout of the film is Twala. Twala sadly passed away in 2020, after a long and prolific career in South African cinema (she’s probably best known to American audiences for being featured in Beyoncé’s film Black is King). Her work here is nothing short of astonishing, and for me there simply wasn’t a better or more captivating performance this year. It is a tour de force performance at the center of a truly breathtaking film.

 

 

Those are my picks for my favorite films of the year! Did your favorite make the cut? Let me know, and keep watching great films! And you can see my countdown of the 100 best performances of the year here!

The Best Films of 2021: Part 1

We're already a month into 2022, but if COVID has taught us anything, it's that time is meaningless. And now that I've had a chance to see some of the late-released heavyweights of the year, I finally feel like I can say with confidence that these are my absolute favorite films of 2021. It's been an interesting year for the film industry to say the least. Film distributors are still unsure of exactly how best to operate in a COVID world. When it comes to movie theater ticket sales, there are numerous reports of films being box office disappointments, but I always wonder how these returns can be classified as "disappointing" when every movie underperforms unless it has Spider-Man in the title. While some look at poor box office returns as the sign of an industry in decline, I have to disagree. Rather, I think it's a sign that the way in which we consume film is drastically changing. And, for the record, this change was happening before COVID. With factors like rising ticket prices and the sheer convenience of streaming services, the movie watching experience is entering a new era. It doesn't have to be a disastrous transition unless the industry makes it one.

 

And part of the reason I'm so optimistic is that there have been numerous really exceptional movies released this year. There are still great movies being made, and great filmmakers with things to say. Every year, I reach a point where I think that I'll limit the number of films I talk about in this roundup, but every year there are 30 films that I genuinely think are excellent and deserve discussion. More than 30 in fact; there were some excellent films that I assumed would make my year-end list no problem, which just narrowly missed out because of the excellence of the year (my honorable mentions this year go to Norwegian Oscar contender The Worst Person in the World and the future cult classic Psycho Goreman). So, without further ado, let's look at my personal 30 favorite movies of the year (as always, I say FAVORITE because this is completely subjective), all of which give me hope that film will survive as a necessary and popular medium.

 

#30 Cyrano

With both West Side Story and tick, tick…BOOM! being awards season stalwarts this year, most awards season rosters have already filled their unofficial movie musical quota. Which is unfortunate, because there were several strong movie musicals which probably would have been in the conversation in another year. For example, In the Heights was once seen as a Best Picture contender, but its early release date means it has sadly faded from a lot of voters’ memories. And then there’s Cyrano, which had the opposite problem of being released far too late. And this is unfortunate, because this should have been in the running for multiple awards. Even with so many films in contention, it was one of the strongest movie musicals of the year.

 

Based on a recent stage musical, Cyrano is a retelling of the classic story of Cyrano de Bergerac (Peter Dinklage) Dinklage has been a respected actor for a long time, and this is his best role since Game of Thrones launched him to superstardom. While I’m sure some purists will miss the trademark nose, Dinklage’s portrayal is incredibly recognizable as Cyrano, and brings the necessary amounts of intellect and sensitivity to the role. If anything, his Cyrano reads particularly true because the nose isn’t there as a distraction. His insecurities stem from real life prejudice as opposed to a prosthetic, and it’s a remarkably effective choice. Dinklage remains true to the character while still providing a fresh take on him that feels organic and is genuinely moving. His supporting cast is also excellent, with Haley Bennett being particularly standout as Roxanne. Oftentimes, Roxanne can be mistakenly portrayed as shallow or foolish, but to do so is a major disservice to the character. Bennett imbues Roxanne with the strength needed to match Cyrano beat for beat, and her scenes with Dinklage showcase a lot of chemistry between them. The musical score (written by The National) might not be as iconic as, say, West Side Story, but it’s highly original and works both as an independent piece of music, and within the context of the film as a whole. And the direction from Joe Wright is incredibly strong. Wright is an industry stalwart who is known for his lush visuals, and this is easily his best film since Atonement. It's fun getting to watch Wright be whimsical after the dourness of his most recent works. I can imagine an alternate universe where Cyrano was much more prominent this awards season. But as this won’t be the case, I can only encourage you to check it out for yourself. It may be a familiar story, but it’s a more than worthy adaptation.

 

#29 The Novice

Considering how popular indie horror films can be, I’m honestly shocked there’s not more buzz surrounding The Novice. It’s certainly been well-reviewed, but it hasn’t gotten nearly enough attention as it should have. The Novice stars Isabelle Fuhrman as Alex Dall, a freshman striving to be at the top of her university’s rowing team. As the film goes on, Alex becomes increasingly ruthless and self-destructive, making it one of the tensest thrillers of the year. The themes explored have been seen on film before, and it seems to directly hint at both Black Swan and Whiplash as obvious sources of inspiration. But The Novice still manages to forge its own identity, and Alex’s journey towards perfection is a fascinating one to watch. Perhaps what sets The Novice apart from the other films I mentioned is that Alex’s journey is more clearly a part of a group. While the protagonists in Black Swan and Whiplash are certainly part of a unit, they are nonetheless seeking individual glory. For Alex, she can only achieve her form of perfection with the help of others. That dependency makes her actions particularly dangerous and chaotic, and add to the malicious edge that this movie possesses.

 

#28 Encanto

Why do I love Encanto so much? Well, simply put, Encanto is Disney’s best movie in years. While the studio hasn’t exactly been in a slump, Encanto is the first time in a while that I’ve felt completely taken with one of their films. It has all the hallmarks of a truly great Disney movie—impressive visuals, fantastic music, a heartwarming story. But more importantly, it feels like a departure from the well-trod territory of many of its previous efforts. Disney’s animated films tend to tell familiar and/or pre-existing stories, and does its world-building primarily through visuals and music. But the very premise of Encanto is intriguing, and while the story was satisfying enough for a contained standalone film, I would genuinely love a whole series of films following the amazing Madrigal family.

 

#27 Riders of Justice

Riders of Justice follows Markus (Mads Mikkelsen), a soldier who returns home after his wife is tragically killed in a freak train accident. But Otto (Nikolaj Lie Kaas), a survivor of the same accident believes that it was no accident at all, and was orchestrated by a gang to take out a key witness in an upcoming trial. Markus, Otto, and a pair of ragtag scientists team up to figure out who was responsible for the death of Markus’ wife, and seek revenge if needed. I must admit that I initially dismissed this film. Based on the advertising and the general plot summary, I thought it would be a somewhat generic revenge movie, but I’m happy to say I couldn’t have been more wrong. Riders of Justice is a brutal and compelling drama with a surprisingly sensitive core to it. While the film does center around revenge, it’s about so much more, and grand themes like loss, anger, and destiny play just as much of a role. In many ways, Riders of Justice even plays as an anti-revenge film, while still providing a satisfying conclusion to the revenge arc at its center. For those who only know Mikkelsen from his English-language performances, I encourage you to watch him act in his native language of Danish. He’s always compelling, but Danish films tend to take much more advantage of his versatility—he can play a lot more than just villains. Once again, Mikkelsen turns in a wonderful performance here—the character of Markus is not good at showing emotions, but Mikkelsen still makes him vulnerable and sensitive in a way that a lesser actor couldn’t have, and as the emotional core of the movie, this choice is crucial for the film to work. And, as the picture above indicates, if you watch the film you will be rewarding by images of Mikkelsen in a cozy Christmas sweater during the it's superb conclusion.

 

#26 Sweat

There have already been a few films made about influencer culture, and there are doubtless going to be more as the topic becomes increasingly relevant. Still, I imagine Sweat will hold up as one of the best examinations of the issue we'll ever seen on screen. Sweat stars Magdalena Koleśnik as Sylwia, a fitness instructor and influencer who struggles to hold her personal life together while dealing with her massive fanbase. What I think sets Sweat apart is that while it is critical of influencer and celebrity culture in general, it never feels critical of Sylwia herself. The screenplay smartly makes her someone that you root for and shows her humanity and vulnerability even as she drowns in the public identity she has created. And, of course, a lot of credit is due to Koleśnik who shines as one of cinema’s best heroes of the year.

 

#25 The Vigil

Religion is a frequent and often compelling backdrop for horror movies—but often that religion tends to be Christianity. I mean, how many nuns have popped up in the Conjuring universe alone? But The Vigil is the first time I’ve seen a film that uses the same religious horror tropes and applied them to Judaism (well, I guess the first part of A Serious Man is a good example). But I hope The Vigil starts a new trend of excellent Jewish horror, because this film just touches the surface of some great subject matter to explore. The film focuses on Yakov (Dave Davis), a man who has left the Orthodox community he was raised in, but returns to keep vigil over a recently deceased member of the community. Over the course of the night, he struggles with both metaphorical and literal demons, and the film delves into mythology and feelings of grief and guilt. And yes, it gets really dark and spooky. It’s a wonderful and macabre journey, and my favorite straight-up horror film of the year.

 

#24 The Power of the Dog

The Power of the Dog is one of the most prominent titles on my list. It has been a constant presence this awards season, and while a lot can change in a couple of months, it appears to be the current frontrunner to win Best Picture. It may not be my personal #1 pick this year, but should it take the top prize at the Oscars, it’s certainly a worthy choice. While art is subjective and the word “Best” is meaningless when it comes to judging art, The Power of the Dog is objectively a very well-made film. And while it maybe didn’t resonate with me quite as much as it did with others who have it on the top of their ballots, it nonetheless earns its place on this list because of the craftsmanship at work. Director Jane Campion has had a long and decorated career, and this film is an example of why. She’s very good at playing with the information her audience receives. The Power of the Dog is a masterclass in storytelling, where Campion never plays her hand and always seems to be a step ahead of her viewers.

 

A lot of attention has been paid to the excellent cast, with Benedict Cumberbatch and Kodi Smit-McPhee both being touted as serious Oscar contenders. They’re both good here, but for me the standout performances belong to Kirsten Dunst and Jesse Plemons. While she’s not seen as a frontrunner to win, Dunst is a strong possibility to score her first ever Oscar nomination. She’s given Oscar-worthy performances in the past, and I hesitate to say this is her BEST performance, but it is a performance that really highlights how commanding of a performer she can be. Plemons, meanwhile, is the only one of the main cast who has been completely left out of the awards conversation, and I don’t understand it. He’s truly excellent here, and I would argue that he actually has one of the more difficult characters to portray. Considering how awards seasons tend to fall back on a consensus pick, The Power of the Dog is ultimately a great option. It may at times feel like standard awards-season fare, but nonetheless maintains its own artistry and purpose, along with being an excellent showcase for a filmmaker of Campion’s caliber.

 

#23 Never Gonna Snow Again

Many of my favorite films are the ones that I feel defy categorization. One such film is Never Gonna Snow Again, a genre-bending, magical film from Polish filmmakers Małgorzata Szumowska and Michał Englert. Never Gonna Snow Again follows Zhenia (a mesmerizing Alec Utgoff), a massage therapist from Chernobyl who takes up residence in a wealthy community. Shortly after his arrival, he amasses a considerable following, as reports of his skill spread from neighbor to neighbor. Zhenia, it turns out, is a lot more than just a massage therapist, and his sessions place his clients under a form of hypnosis, where repressed memories are uncovered and secrets are revealed. The film tows the line between whether Zhenia actually possesses some supernatural gift, but for the unhappy people in this city, the results of his magic are very real, and the effect it has on the people surrounding him is significant. Equal parts whimsical and macabre, the film leans into a certain dreamlike, fairy tale quality, but it’s clear early on that this film won’t have a “fairy tale ending.” The film’s title refers to the possibility of there being no snow due to climate change, and the veil of a barren winter is palpable in the air. The excellent production design makes the film LOOK cold, with all of the beauty and brutality that entails. It would be reductive to say that Never Gonna Snow Again is ABOUT anything, but during the course of this dreamlike tale, it touches on themes of global warming, immigration, class divide, and more. For fans of magical realism like myself, this is a must-see.

 

#22 Mass

Simplicity is difficult to pull off in film. The smaller the cast and the more limited the set, the fewer places there are to hide, and it can risk feeling like a filmed play more than an actual movie. But when done well, it’s a reminder that you really don’t need a lot to create a compelling narrative. I'll always remember being blown away the first time I saw Twelve Angry Men (still one of my favorite films of all time) and seeing what sort of tension could be achieved with twelve actors in a single room. In the case of Mass, writer/director Fran Kranz only needed four.

 

The film follows two couples: Gail & Jay (Martha Plimpton and Jason Isaacs) and Linda & Richard (Ann Dowd and Reed Birney) who apprehensively meet in a room in a church to have an arranged conversation. After not too long, it becomes clear what the conversation is about (and, while I think it’s pretty obvious, if you want to avoid any and all spoilers, skip to the next entry): years ago, Linda & Richard’s son was a mass shooter at a high school and killed multiple students, including Gail & Jay’s son and then himself. It is, understandably, an intense conversation, but writer/director Fran Kranz’s script is admirably not preachy or exploitative. He doesn’t try to pass judgment on his characters, and simply asks you to observe them. While the characters inevitably try to find a source of blame for what happened, that’s not what this film is about. It’s about catharsis. When people talk about this film they almost exclusively talk about the cast, and I will too in just a second, but I have to say that the craft that went into this film is excellent and easy to miss. While it’s not particularly flashy, the cinematography from Robert Jackson Healy is brilliant, with an understanding of light and framing that subtly increases feelings of tension and relief that are necessary for the film to have an impact. The screenplay does a lot of the heavy-lifting, but the camera and design accentuates these beats in a harmonious way. As for the cast, these four theatre veterans are all incredible, and work together beautifully. They work graciously during scenes featuring all of them, but also rise to the occasion when their characters are given individual moments to control the narrative of the story. It’s a masterclass in ensemble work. Dowd and Birney are both wonderful (and, perhaps due to her Handmaid’s Tale cred, Dowd has easily picked up more accolades than anyone else on this awards season circuit) but for me, this movie belongs to Plimpton and Isaacs. Going into the film, I would have thought the parents of the shooter would have had the heftier storyline to work through, but like I said, this film isn’t concerned with blame. Gail & Jay’s grief and eventual fulfillment offers the most profound journey, and these actors are a powerful presence who sell their emotions without falling victim to stereotypes. It’s not a happy film to watch, but it’s an immensely rewarding one should you choose to trust your emotions in this cast’s capable hands.

 

#21 The Tragedy of Macbeth

Film adaptations of Shakespeare can be a mixed bag. And while Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth is not immediately going to claim any BEST SHAKESPEAREAN FILM EVER titles, it’s still a credible entry into the cinematic Shakespearean canon. It manages to capture the dark themes of the play without feeling unbearably dreary (like the horrendous Justin Kurzel-directed version from a few years ago), and while it does take some liberties from the original text, they tend to be intriguing, or at the very least not wholly distracting. The visuals might not be completely original (there are a lot of references to the Orson Welles Macbeth from 1948) but are nonetheless spectacular. Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel has a wonderful eye for shadow and space, and the look of the film feels simultaneously lush and hollow in a disconcerting way. The film’s aesthetic is impressive while never losing sight that the cinematographer’s main goal is to serve the story. Ultimately, if you want to see a film of Macbeth, this is a great one to turn to.

 

But what elevates this film from good to great is the interpretation of the three witches, all portrayed by Kathryn Hunter. Hunter is one of the best stage actors working today, and hopefully she will pursue more film work after this. She’s an absolute revelation here—unbelievably creepy and impossible not to watch. It’s a performance that is physical, ruthless, and fully-embodied. I, in fact, wish that Coen had thought to use her talents even more prominently than he did, but nonetheless I’m incredibly grateful for the gift of Hunter’s performance. See it for her, and stay for a film that provides her with a suitable backdrop.

 

#20 Nightmare Alley

There’s something really wonderful when a director with a signature style tackles a new genre. Guillermo del Toro may not have made a film noir before, but Nightmare Alley proves it’s a great genre for his sensibilities. His familiar stylish flair, dark themes, and masterful use of tension is on full display here, but channeled in a way that feels like exciting new territory. Del Toro is one of the most beloved directors working right now, and I don’t know of anyone who wouldn’t say he’s a good director, but Nightmare Alley shows a sense of refinement which reminds us just how savvy a filmmaker he is. This story filled with magicians and con men is perfectly suited for del Toro’s talents as a showman, and the elaborate set pieces feel as if they’re a playground for del Toro’s camera. This is one of the reasons Nightmare Alley is so great—you can just tell how much fun del Toro is having. Even though this story is far from happy one, there’s a sense of excitement in the craftsmanship that keeps it from feeling unbearably bleak. The visuals, as one would expect, are gorgeous and evocative (the film has a great use of color, but I would LOVE to see the black & white version shown at some screenings). The cast is similarly strong. Bradley Cooper gives one of his best performances to date as carnival worker turned con-man Stanton Carlisle. And the world of the film is filled out by a stacked ensemble cast of character actors who make a strong impression, often with very little screentime. The standout to me was David Strathairn, who acts as the emotional core of the film, and whose presence is felt even though he’s only in the first third of the film. While I wouldn’t say Nightmare Alley breaks any new ground in the genre, it’s ultimately just a really well-made film, and seeing someone like del Toro’s take on the story makes it a tremendously rewarding watch.

 

#19 Apples

If you’re a fan of Yorgos Lanthimos’ films, I highly recommend delving further into contemporary Greek cinema. The film culture of that country is not limited to Lanthimos alone, and it has a very distinct and weird sensibility when it comes to its cinematic storytelling. Apples, which was Greece’s official entry to the Oscars last year, is the latest great contemporary Greek film, which finds a lovely poetry under its oddball surface. Although it was made before COVID, the film is set in a world in the throes of a pandemic—but this is a pandemic that causes amnesia. Our main character, Aris (Aris Servetalis) is the pandemic’s latest victim, and he enrolls himself in a recovery program for other patients with this sudden and unexplained memory loss. Rather than medication, his doctors assign Aris a series of tasks to simulate life experiences that they hope will jog his memory in some way. This isn’t necessarily a happy or hopeful film, and early on you get the sense that the medical professionals he’s working with are well-meaning but completely out of their depth. But Apples is more about the journey than the destination. The ambitious screenplay from Stavros Raptis and director Christos Nikou seeks to ask what makes life meaningful, and what links our sense of identity to ourselves. It’s a question that no movie can fully answer on its own, but Apples nonetheless provides a lovely reflection on these large ideas. For its humor, introspection, and moments of true beauty, Apples is profound and…dare I say it…unforgettable.

 

#18 Red Rocket

Sean Baker is one of the most exciting American directors working today. His films (such as the acclaimed Tangerine and The Florida Project) tend to revolve around themes that are taboo in American culture, and the heroes of his films tend to be societal outcasts who are looking for a miracle. Baker is an incredibly sensitive filmmaker, and he has a special talent for treating his film’s subjects with respect and empathy—his characters are survivors, and he attempts to give them dignity during their lowest moments. The protagonist of Red Rocket, down on his luck porn star Mikey Saber (Simon Rex), is a bit different. He’s certainly an outcast, and definitely living life without hope, but he’s far harder to root for than most of Baker’s hero’s. Mikey is pure chaos, and easily among the most unlikable film characters of the year. As portrayed by Rex, he’s like a wild animal whenever he’s on screen—dangerous, malicious, and desperate. Remember when everyone was upset that Adam Sandler wasn’t nominated for an Oscar for Uncut Gems? Well, Rex’s performance hit similar beats, but I feel is done even more masterfully, and I wish he had the same swell of support that Sandler had. It’s committed, full-throttle work. As reprehensible as Mikey is, Baker still manages to make him pitiable. Together, Baker and Rex find a certain pathetic quality that makes Mikey genuinely fascinating. While never endorsing his behavior, Baker still tries to find some reason behind it; in doing so, he treats Mikey with the same respect as he treats all of his characters. It’s an uncomfortable experience to go on, but in the hands of a filmmaker as strong as Baker, it’s an undeniably rewarding one.

 

#17 West Side Story

Remaking a film like West Side Story can be a tricky affair. It’s not enough to just make a good movie, you have to truly go above and beyond to justify why the movie had to be made in the first place. I’m happy to say that the new West Side Story absolutely does this, providing a fresh take on the story that feels current and new, but will still appeal to long-time fans of the piece. It can be easy to take Steven Spielberg for granted as a director—his most iconic films are from much earlier in his career, and the innovations he’s known for no longer feel particularly new. But a movie like West Side Story is a reminder of just how good Spielberg is. He understands the medium better than almost anyone, and the sense of movement in this film is electrifying and masterful. The film is also incredibly well-cast (well, mostly…the less we talk the choice to portray Tony as a particularly unexpressive slab of wood the better), with the cast of mostly newcomers successfully providing their own spin on familiar characters. Rachel Zegler, Mike Faist, Ariana DeBose, and David Alvarez are all great, but I especially want to commend Rita Moreno and Josh Andrés Rivera here. They might not give my absolute favorite performances in the film, but I think both really rise to the challenge of completely changing our perspectives on who some of these familiar characters are. Rivera plays Chino, a character who has always played an important role in West Side Story but has typically had nothing to do and is barely a character in the first place. Rivera completely recontextualizes Chino in a way that feels like a revelation and completely changes the arc of the story for the better. As for Moreno, it would have been a joy to see her in this film even in a smaller cameo, but it’s especially nice to see her get something substantial to do. As Valentina (a new character, standing in for Doc), her performance never feels like a gimmick. The interpretations of these two characters specifically speak to just why this remake of West Side Story feels so refreshing: the very smart and purposeful choices made to update the story. Tony Kushner’s screenplay is the film’s secret weapon, and shows an understanding of what themes needed to be highlighted to resonate today. It’s a great example of how to remake a classic. The new West Side Story doesn’t take anything away from the original, but still stands tall as a West Side Story for a new generation.

 

#16 Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

Director Ryusuke Hamaguchi released not one, but two truly excellent movies this year. And while Drive My Car is the one showing up on most of these “best of” lists (including mine…just keep scrolling) his second most prominent release of 2021 deserves just as much love. Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy is a beautiful anthology film about intimacy and deception, and it’s the rare anthology film where all parts feel like they are working in perfect tandem with each other. In one story, a model hears about her best friend’s new lover, and must determine how to react when she realizes that lover is her ex. In another, a woman tries to seduce a professor at her lover’s request, in an attempt to eventually ruin him. And in the third and final story, a woman believes she has been reunited with her first love from her school days, only to discover that she has the wrong person just as she’s about to make a personal confession. While the characters are different from piece to piece, the thematic elements are quite similar, and the last piece in particular brings out purposeful components that you otherwise might have missed in the first two installments. What I think is most refreshing about Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy is that despite the similar themes, none of it feels repetitive. Hamaguchi takes a set of motifs and uses them to tell three separate stories from three separate perspectives. The result is that Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy doesn’t feel like Hamaguchi is trying to force any opinion onto you—instead he presents the stories for what they are and allows his audience to respond to them as they are so inclined. Depending on who you are, and even how you’re feeling that day, you’re going to respond to different things in Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy, but whatever you latch on to will feel satisfying and intentional. It’s maybe the most honest film of the year, and a calm and poetic reflection on human relationships. It's the less flashy of Hamaguchi’s offerings this year, but it’s just as worthy of discussion and contemplation.

 

#15 The Lost Daughter

There’s something incredibly special whenever a new director seems to already have a defined sense of style in their feature debut. The excitement comes not just from watching a good film, but from the promise of a new voice with a full filmography ahead of them. When that director is already known as an actor, that excitement only increases. They’re someone familiar to us, but it feels like we’re getting a chance to understand them in a different context. This is certainly the case with Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut The Lost Daughter, a startlingly good first feature which showcases her clear understanding of filmmaking, and sets a promising precedent for the types of stories Gyllenhaal wants to tell.

 

Based on Elena Ferrante’s novel, The Lost Daughter follows Leda Caruso (Olivia Colman), a translator whose holiday in Greece is disrupted by an intrusive but intriguing large family. When a young girl in the family goes missing, Leda helps find her but, unbeknownst to anyone else, steals the girl’s favorite doll. The act brings back memories of her youth as she reflects on her own role as a mother to two young girls—something she did not take to naturally. The word “lost” is an evocative one—referring here to both literal absence and a metaphorical loss of purpose. If you don’t pay attention, it would be easy to feel like nothing happens in The Lost Daughter, but there’s remarkable depth going on under the surface. It’s an introspective story, which had the potential to feel murky and detached, but in Gyllenhaal’s more than capable hands, The Lost Daughter takes on a lyrical quality that feels surprisingly thrilling. Perhaps because of her acting background, Gyllenhaal brings out particularly strong performances from her cast, with Colman, Jessie Buckley, and Dakota Johnson being the main standouts. Colman has recently gone from an underrated talent to a heavyweight mainstay in the industry, and The Lost Daughter is arguably her greatest performance to date. She utterly embodies Leda, with all of her contradictions—this character could have been incredibly unlikable, but Colman makes her interesting and engaging without denying her flaws. It’s one of the best performances of the year, and has been rightfully lauded, but it’s not fair to praise Colman’s performance without also mentioning Buckley. As young Leda in flashback scenes, Buckley’s performance works perfectly in tandem with Colman’s, and it’s only through the combination of both performances that the character feels so wonderfully fulfilled. They’re both really wonderful to watch, as is Johnson as the young mother who Leda sees as a version of herself. The Lost Daughter is a wonderful film in its own right, but is especially exciting as an announcement of Gyllenhaal’s arrival as a filmmaker. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

 

#14 The Mitchells vs. the Machines

Few things bother me more than when children’s entertainment is lazy. The best media for kids offer clear, emotion-based storytelling told in inventive ways. It encourages broad, creative premises and distinct visuals. If you limit yourself to only consuming media “for adults,” you will miss out on some exceptional books, television, and of course, movies. When a particularly lazy children’s film comes along (I’m looking at you Sing 2) it’s really irritating to me because there’s no excuse for it to not be better. But when a particularly great children’s film comes along, it’s something really special. And The Mitchells vs. the Machines is indeed something special. The film follows the Mitchell family, who must deal with a technology uprising while dropping of eldest daughter Katie (Abbi Jacobson) at college. The screenplay, by Jeff Rowe and director Michael Rianda, is one of the best of the year. It’s genuinely hilarious, with humor that will appeal to both kids and adults. The whole film has a madcap energy that is wonderfully absurdist and genuinely surprising. This movie features everything thing you could imagine and more: an evil SIRI voiced by Olivia Colman, a giant Furby hellbent on destruction, world-saving apocalyptic road warriors, and a series of mini-films starring a particularly inept pug. The Mitchells vs. the Machines features world building that’s on par or better than any sci-fi or fantasy film released in recent years. But for all of its wackiness, The Mitchells vs. the Machines thrives because of its story. Katie is one of the most realistically portrayed teens I’ve ever seen in film, and the conflict she has with her father (Danny McBride) who’s frustrated that they’ve grown apart, is an incredibly relatable one. The family story at the center is what holds the whole movie together and really allows it to shine. It’s a movie I would have loved to have watched when I was Katie’s age, and one I’d be excited to watch as a parent should I ever have any kids.

 

#13 Passing

As someone who thinks about the film awards season all year long, it’s interesting to see which films are designated as Oscar contenders early on, only to fade from the conversation. Sometimes this is deserved, but oftentimes there are some excellent movies that just for some reason don’t make the impact everyone assumed they would. One of those this year is Passing, the directorial debut from actor Rebecca Hall. Other than Ruth Negga potentially pulling an upset in the Supporting Actress category, it’s lost any buzz it once had, and I honestly don’t understand why. This film has all the elements of an awards season powerhouse, and deserves to be in the conversation.

 

Based on the novel by Nella Larsen, Passing follows Irene Redfield (Tessa Thompson), a Black woman in Harlem who is reunited with her friend Clare Bellew (Negga). Irene is surprised to learn that Clare is living life as a white woman, and is perhaps more surprised to learn that her husband (Alexander Skarsgård) is blatantly racist and knows nothing of his wife’s racial background. For obvious reasons, this story has a lot to say on racial themes, and is one of the most thorough examinations of light-skinned privilege that I’ve seen on screen. But while these discussions are crucial to the impact of Passing, it’s also just an excellent story—a tragic and well-told drama that unexpectedly verges into thriller territory at times. If I didn’t know beforehand, I would never have guessed that this was Hall’s first film. She has an undeniable confidence behind the camera, and shows a true understanding of the medium. The black and white cinematography is gorgeous and lush, its elegance belying the sinister undertones at the film’s core. And, unsurprisingly for an actor of Hall’s talents, she brings out some wonderful performances from her cast. This is Thompson’s best on-screen performance to date. The success of the film relies on Thompson’s ability to show us emotions that go unsaid. Both of the women at the heart of Passing are stuck living in a world that is hostile to them, and both have their own ways of navigating this. Thompson shows the audience her own discomfort without letting the other characters see it—it’s an incredibly smart and subtle performance that remains strong throughout the film’s runtime. But as great as she is, it’s understandable how all of the attention has gone to Negga. Clare Bellew is one of the most mesmerizing characters of the year, and Negga’s performance is daring and enigmatic. The lives of Irene and Clare, and the way they intertwine, make for one of the most fascinating stories of the year. Its underperformance all awards season is no excuse for it to be forgotten.

 

#12 Drive My Car

Drive My Car is an unexpected standout as one of the most decorated films of the year. Any three-hour drama centered around a production of a Chekhov play is going to be a tough sell for the masses, but it has been refreshing to see just how beloved Drive My Car has become. In an awards season where a lot of nominees seem pretty easy to guess, Drive My Car stands out as the one true wildcard. It’s certainly one of the least talked about films in contention for Best Picture, but should voters give it a chance, it has potential to make the cut as a real dark horse. It’s a marvel, and director Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s second film to make my list this year.

 

It's difficult to really describe the plot of Drive My Car. It’s a movie that exists in distinct chapters, and to discuss the winding developments of the story would threaten to disrupt how meticulously it has been put together. Besides, this is a film more about character than plot—and mostly examines the interpersonal relationships that exist in the life of Yusuke (Hidetoshi Nishijima), an acclaimed actor and director making new work in the aftermath of his wife’s untimely demise. In a year where most of the buzziest films suffer under the weight of their extended runtimes, Drive My Car actually uses every minute at its disposal. The three hour runtime feels earned as opposed to indulgent, as our perceptions of Yusuke and the people in his life shift gradually but momentously from scene to scene. One of the most pivotal relationships in Drive My Car is that between Yusuke and his chauffeur Misaki (Toko Miura), but despite this, there’s actually very little driving that happens in Drive My Car. But, like so much in this movie, the idea of being driven feels like a metaphor. There’s something evocative about being in motion while not causing that motion oneself. For Yusuke, who feels like his stuck watching things shift around him, it’s a significant idea. If you haven’t seen this film yet, it’s worth going for the ride with him and Misaki. And who knows, maybe we’ll both be rooting for this film on Oscar night.

 

#11 The Killing of Two Lovers

I can’t tell you the number of times I found myself holding my breath during The Killing of Two Lovers. This underrated indie is one of those films that feels incredibly real. The film tells the story of David (Clayne Crawford), a father trying to put his life back together following a separation from his wife Nikki (Sepideh Moafi). Stories of divorce and child custody disputes are fairly common in the world of film, but rarely are they as painfully rendered as in The Killing of Two Lovers. With a title like The Killing of Two Lovers, there is an implied promise of violence which hangs over the film as a whole. It’s a tense and forlorn film, and while it is at times unbearable to watch, it’s impressive just how strong the emotions are that it conjures up. Crawford’s performance is front and center, and it’s a remarkable thing to watch. David is an incredibly angry characters, but he lives his life under the watchful eye of others. There are some wonderful moments where David lets his anger show, but far more powerful is the majority of the movie where he must contain his feelings. Crawford lets his deeper resentment come through most strongly at his quietest, and it’s often painful to watch. In truth, deceptively little happens over the course of The Killing of Two Lovers, but to give any plotline away would take away from the journey of the film. It’s not always easy to watch a film that strips itself raw for you, but The Killing of Two Lovers is a rewarding trip to take, that succeeds because of how courageous it is in its own discomfort.

 

 

All of these films are excellent, so which films could possibly have cracked my top ten? Check them out in part 2!