The 100 Best Movie Performances of 2015

At the end of the year, it is my duty as a film blogger to consider the year as a whole. Last year, I said that 2014 had been a year of great films. I must say that I think 2015 was a year of many good films as opposed to truly great films--my top ten of last year is a whole lot stronger than my top ten for this year, with a few notable exceptions. There were still many excellent movies, and in particular many excellent achievements. Even if I felt that the films as a whole were stronger last year, this year featured some rather incredible feats in directing, writing, and in particular acting. As I thought of this year, what stood out to me was how many truly incredible performances there were. This was, to me, the year of the actor. And in honor of that, I went through this year's movies and came up with what I think were the top 100 best movie performances of the year. It's a lot to go through so I'll save you any commentary on my part, but I have very carefully gone through this list and put a lot of thought into these rankings. So without further ado, here are my picks for the top 100 performances of the year, in order from great to greater.

100) Bridey Elliot as Harper, Fort Tilden
99) Chloë Grace Moretz as Jo-Ann Ellis, Clouds of Sils Maria
98) Demián Bichir as Bob/Marco the Mexican, The Hateful Eight
97) John Goodman as Frank King, Trumbo
96) Charlotte Rampling as Kate Mercer, 45 Years
95) Regina Casé as Val, The Second Mother
94) Michael Madsen as Joe Gage/Grouch Daniels, The Hateful Eight
93) Richard Jenkins as Chicory, Bone Tomahawk
92) Corey Hawkins as Dr. Dre, Straight Outta Compton
91) James Spader as Ultron, Avengers: Age of Ultron

Domhnall Gleeson and Oscar Isaac, one half of the small but excellent cast of Ex Machina.

90) Domhnall Gleeson as Caleb Smith, Ex Machina
89) Tessa Thompson as Bianca, Creed
88) Tom Hiddleston as Sir Thomas Sharpe, Crimson Peak
87) Tobey Macguire as Bobby Fischer, Pawn Sacrifice
86) Jason Statham as Rick Ford, Spy
85) Mya Taylor as Alexandra, Tangerine
84) Peter Sarsgaard as Stanley Milgram, Experimenter
83) Nelsan Ellis as Jesse Fletcher, The Stanford Prison Experiment
82) Bruce Dern as General Sandy Smithers, The Hateful Eight
81) Stanley Tucci as Mitchell Garabedian, Spotlight

Mark Rylance as a Soviet spy in Bridge of Spies, and Tom Hanks as the lawyer tasked with defending him.

80) Tom Hanks as James B. Donovan, Bridge of Spies
79) Paul Dano as Jimmy Tree, Youth
78) Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Philippe Petit, The Walk
77) Will Smith as Dr. Bennet Omalu, Concussion
76) Chris Sheffield as Tom Thompson (2093), The Stanford Prison Experiment
75) Phyllis Smith as Sadness, Inside Out
74) John Cusack as Brian Wilson, Love & Mercy
73) Alicia Vikander as Gerda Wegener, The Danish Girl
72) Géza Röhrig as Saul, Son of Saul
71) Rachel Weisz as Lena Ballinger, Youth

Billy Crudup, who lead the excellent ensemble cast of The Stanford Prison Experiment.

70) Billy Crudup as Dr. Philip Zimbardo, The Stanford Prison Experiment
69) Chiwetel Ejiofor as Vincent Kapoor, The Martian
68) Jake Gyllenhaal as Billy Hope, Southpaw
67) Melissa McCarthy as Susan Cooper, Spy
66) Rachel McAdams as Sacha Pfeiffer, Spotlight
65) Abraham Attah as Agu, Beasts of No Nation
64) Richard Kind as Bing Bong, Inside Out
63) Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa, Mad Max: Fury Road
62) Clare McNulty as Allie, Fort Tilden
61) Oona Laurence as Leila Hope, Southpaw

The fine work of Jake Gyllenhaal as a boxer and Oona Laurence as his daughter elevated the otherwise underwhelming Southpaw.

60) Benicio del Toro as Alejandro Gillick, Sicario
59) Leonardo DiCaprio as Hugh Glass, The Revenant
58) Tom Courtenay as Geoff Mercer, 45 Years
57) Tim Roth as Oswaldo Mobray/English Pete Hicox, The Hateful Eight
56) Rinko Kikuchi as Kumiko, Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter
55) Juliette Binoche as Maria Enders, Clouds of Sils Maria
54) Michael Caine as Fred Ballinger, Youth
53) Ian McKellan as Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Holmes
52) Andrew Garfield as Dennis Nash, 99 Homes
51) Michael Keaton as Walter "Robby" Robinson, Spotlight

The deservedly acclaimed cast of Spotlight.

50) Shameik Moore as Malcolm Adekanbi, Dope
49) Liev Schreiber as Boris Spassky, Pawn Sacrifice
48) Lily Tomlin as Elle Reid, Grandma
47) Cynthia Nixon as Gail White, James White
46) Ronald Zehrfeld as Johnny Lenz, Phoenix
45) David Thewlis as Michael Stone, Anomalisa
44) Parker Posey as Rita Richards, Irrational Man
43) Tom Hardy as John Fitzgerald, The Revenant
42) Mark Ruffalo as Michael Rezendes, Spotlight
41) Kristen Stewart as Valentine, Clouds of Sils Maria

The work of Kristen Stewart and Juliette Binoche, as well as Chloë Grace Moretz, makes Clouds of Sils Maria easily one of the best acted movies of the year.

40) Elizabeth Banks as Melinda Ledbetter, Love & Mercy
39) Kurt Russell as John "The Hangman" Ruth, The Hateful Eight
38) Tom Noonan as everyone else, Anomalisa
37) Mark Rylance as Rudolf Abel, Bridge of Spies
36) Imogene Wolodarsky as Amelia Stuart, Infinitely Polar Bear
35) Cate Blanchett as Carol Aird, Carol
34) Michael Stuhlbarg as Andy Hertzfeldt, Steve Jobs
33) Jennifer Lawrence as Joy Brancato, Joy
32) Walton Goggins as Chris Mannix, The Hateful Eight
31) Idris Elba as Commandant, Beasts of No Nation

Jennifer Jason Leigh gives two equally brilliant performances this year, including her voiceover work for the brilliant Anomalisa.

30) Jennifer Jason Leigh as Lisa Hesselman, Anomalisa
29) Jacob Tremblay as Jack Newsome, Room
28) Jennifer Jason Leigh as Daisy Domergue, The Hateful Eight
27) Oscar Isaac as Nathan Bateman, Ex Machina
26) Michael B. Jordan as Adonis Johnson, Creed
25) Matt Damon as Mark Watney, The Martian
24) Ezra Miller as Daniel Culp (8612), The Stanford Prison Experiment
23) David Morse as Mike Webster, Concussion
22) Emily Browning as Frances Shea, Legend
21) Emory Cohen as Tony Fiorello, Brooklyn

Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett, the two leading ladies of Carol.

20) Rooney Mara as Therese Belivet, Carol
19) Samuel L. Jackson as Major Marquis Warren, The Hateful Eight
18) Saoirse Ronan as Eilis Lacey, Brooklyn
17) Harvey Keitel as Mick Boyle, Youth
16) Michael Fassbender as Steve Jobs, Steve Jobs
15) Paul Dano as Brian Wilson, Love & Mercy
14) Mark Ruffalo as Cam Stuart, Infinitely Polar Bear
13) Johnny Depp as James "Whitey" Bulger, Black Mass
12) Jessica Chastain as Lucille Sharpe, Crimson Peak
11) Nina Kunzendorf as Lene Winter, Phoenix

The three central performances of Phoenix, including those of Nina Hoss and Nina Kunzendorf, help make this German film one of the best of the year.

10) Emily Blunt as Kate Macer, Sicario
9) Bryan Cranston as Dalton Trumbo, Trumbo
8) Ben Mendelsohn as Gerry, Mississippi Grind
7) Michael Shannon as Rick Carver, 99 Homes
6) Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Balboa, Creed
5) Jason Segel as David Foster Wallace, The End of the Tour
4) Alicia Vikander as Ava, Ex Machina
3) Brie Larson as Joy "Ma" Newsome, Room
2) Nina Hoss as Nelly Lenz, Phoenix
1) Tom Hardy as Reginald Kray & Ronald Kray, Legend

Tom Hardy, who gives what I think is the best performance of the year. Which he accomplishes by basically giving two Oscar-worthy performances.

So, there you have it--my picks for the 100 best performances of the year. Five actors managed to make it onto the list twice: Paul Dano, Tom Hardy, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Mark Ruffalo, and Alicia Vikander. Also, ten films had three or more performances on my list. Anomalisa, Clouds of Sils Maria, Creed, Ex Machina, Love & Mercy, and Phoenix all had three performances on the list, Spotlight, The Stanford Prison Experiment, and Youth all had four performances, and The Hateful Eight stakes its place as my pick for the best acted film of the year with a whopping eight performances making the list.

What are your thoughts? What did I get right? What did I get wrong? Who did I completely miss? who did I give way too much credit to? Share your own favorite performances in the comments. And I'll be releasing my picks for the very best films of the year soon.

BEST FILMS OF 2014-- #3: "Begin Again" and the Platonic Love Stories of John Carney

This is the ninth in a series of eleven posts counting down my favorite films of the year. Be sure to read about my #4 pick, #5 pick, #6 pick, #7 pick, #8 pick, #9 pick, #10 pick,  #11 pick, and about the honorable mentions too.

My best films of the year list probably looks familiar to a lot of people. It consists of a bunch of acclaimed movies which have been awards contenders for quite some time. And then we get to this entry-- not just any entry, but my choice for the third best film of the year. That means it's the bronze medalist in a year of great films. And I imagine many people are thinking the same thing: "Begin Again? What the hell is Begin Again? He put this movie in front of Boyhood for crying out loud!" This is, after all, a film that nobody is talking about. If you've heard any awards consideration for it at all, it's been in the category of best song. So, why have I named it the third best film of the year? Well, let's examine what this movie is about, and why I responded to it so strongly.

Begin Again is directed and written by John Carney, and it's his first feature film since 2007's surprise hit Once. If you haven't seen Once, you should do so immediately-- it is one of the sweetest and simply lovely films and history has been kind to it. It went from being mostly unknown to being turned into a Tony-Award winning musical, and its signature, Oscar-winning song "Falling Slowly" has been covered numerous times. Because of the love people have for Once, there was a lot of excitement when Begin Again came out, but in the end, it didn't register as well with audiences or critics. It did get mostly positive reviews (83% on Rotten Tomatoes, which is higher than other Oscar-y films like The Theory of Everything) and even the more negative reviewers, like A.O. Scott in the New York Times, admit the film was enjoyable. But, in all, it seemed like everyone was comparing it to Once. Once embraced its own minimalism; it starred complete unknowns Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, their characters didn't even have names, and it was shot on a rather low definition camera. It felt unpolished, and there was a distinct charm to this-- the whole thing felt like an underdog. But, in Begin Again, Carney had a lot more tools up his sleeve. The unknown singers in the lead roles have been switched out for bona fide stars Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo (who are both getting Oscar buzz this year...but for different films). The story is a lot more conventional, the camera work much more professional. And then there are the songs-- both films are musicals. In Once, the songs were written and performed by Hansard and Irglova themselves. This time, the songs are penned by much more pedigreed songwriters. It seemed to be Carney's intention to use these advancements and a larger budget to elevate what he was doing in Once, but many seemed to feel that they cheapened the film instead. The roughness of Once went away, but so did its charm and its passion (according to others). As such, the reviews were that the film was good...but not as good as Once.

Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova in Once.

I can't argue with this--Begin Again is charming, but something is definitely lost now that Carney has more recognition and pedigree. But, Begin Again's polish gives it another perspective that Once could not attain. I think it's unfair to try and compare the films as being one better than the other. To think that they are the same film which can be placed side by side shows a complete lack of understanding of the messages of both films. I think of them more as companion pieces. Through the themes explored in both films, Carney establishes them as being linked together-- a similar story told from a different perspective. And I think viewing one will enhance your opinion of the other.

Both films fit into a genre that I like to call a Platonic Love Story. They're very rare, and Carney probably does them better than anyone. In his platonic love stories, Carney unites two characters who might not be romantically connected, but nonetheless have a certain intimacy. More than that, they need each other. He isolates characters who are currently at their lowest points, and who need each other to raise them from that place. It's a romance of a sort, and it's beautiful to watch. In Once, the guy's songs inspire the girl, and she in turn inspires him to make an album and try to gain recognition. In Begin Again the characters are older and come from a different position. Rather than being on the verge of success, both have already found success and lost it. Ruffalo plays Dan Mulligan, a record producer who at one point was at the top of the game, but has since fallen due to a variety of common hardships (most stemming from his implied alcoholism). Knightley plays Gretta James-- she has just been left by superstar singer Dave Kohl (Adam Levine, in his film debut) and is dejected. Dan is the one who first realizes the connection. She needs him to recognize her potential and help her create an album that she wants to create. He, meanwhile, needs her because she inspires him in a way he has not been inspired since his glory days. Just like in Once, both characters absolutely need each other, and Carney is wonderful at illuminating the ways friends and colleagues can influence and improve our lives. And I say friends because, while Carney always hints at a romantic relationship, both have other distinct romantic interests-- Gretta still pines for Dave, and Dan still has feelings for his wife Miriam (Catherine Keener), so it's never meant to be a romantic relationship between Gretta and Dan. But it's clearly a special one, and a beautiful and passionate one. They are connected by music which, Carney seems to think, is even better than love.

And that is where both Once and Begin Again absolutely thrive. They are both musicals, but more than that, they are about music. And they are about the thrill of actually creating music. They are about how music can bring people together in a visceral way that other mediums simply cannot. It's evident in Once and, while other critics might not agree, to me it is absolutely evident in Begin Again as well. Begin Again starts with characters at their lowest points, and basically chronicles them as they get their lives back on track. And these milestones occur with music. Music helps lift Dan out of his depressive funk, it helps him connect with his daughter (an excellent Hailee Steinfeld) for probably the first time. Music is what helped Gretta and Dave connect, and it's also what causes them to break up (she discovers his infidelity by listening to a love song he wrote and realizing it's not for her). Music helps her get over him by writing a simple and bittersweet song called "Like a Fool," which she leaves as a voicemail message on his cell phone. Music, of course, brings our two protagonists together. There's a particularly wonderful scene where they go through New York, each wearing one headphone and listening to a soundtrack they make up as they walk. It's a beautiful scene-- don't we all wish that we could have our own underscoring like they do in the movies?

And then, of course, there's the album itself. Dan produces an album of Gretta's songs-- the first time she has ever had the confidence to record her own material-- which they record in various locations around the city, capturing the ambient background noise as they go. Along with Gretta, they have a troupe of other musicians and, while their characters are never fully explored, we nonetheless get a sense of their talent and passion. In one particularly funny scene, an accompanist at a children's ballet school (played by David Abeles, who was in the Broadway production of Once) is approached to be a part of the album and quits his job in the middle of playing a scale, so desperate is he for a chance to play actual music. And the scenes of recording the music itself also embrace the ways music can unite us. In one particularly delightful scene, a group of children who happened to be passing by end up joining in on the recording and singing backup vocals. The whole thing is simply a celebration of music and musicians.

And this would all be for naught if the music itself wasn't so good. Begin Again features a great series of songs-- the producers seem to be pushing the Adam Levine-performed "Lost Stars" towards what is a likely Oscar nomination, but the rest of the songs are just as good or better. Not only are the songs themselves good, but the songs are shot beautifully and treated well. They're inspiring, they're emotionally enriching, and, at its best, they elevate Begin Again to moments of true magic. At no point is this more evident than at the beginning of the film. The film opens with Keira Knightley playing at a bar to a largely apathetic audience-- the background chatter distracting while she plays. But as she leaves the stage, the camera pans to Mark Ruffalo, with a manic, slightly disturbing grin on his face. Then, the film backtracks and we see what happened earlier that day (which involves what must have been the worst day in Dan's life-- he was fired from his job, humiliated in front of his daughter, and eventually made it to this bar to, presumably, get quite intoxicated). But he hears Gretta playing her song and, unlike the rest of the audience, takes note. As she plays, we start to hear what he hears-- he's arranging the song in his head. And as he does, the other instruments on the stage start playing themselves. It is pure magic. Just watch this scene. This scene alone would put this movie on my top ten list.

Keira Knightley and her one-woman band

Carney is wonderful at character studies. His characters are, without exception, very natural portrayals, and there's no exception here. He paints with realistic strokes, and brings out wonderful performances in his actors, even when they're not actors. Adam Levine, for example, impressed me. Levine could have played Dave by basically just playing himself, but actually makes the character distinct, and very interesting. Dave is unfaithful to Gretta and is, in many ways, a complete and unapologetic asshole, and yet we don't hate him. When he asks Gretta for another try, she considers it, and we can see why. Levine's performance embraces both sides of Dave--those that make him endearing and those that make him unbearable.

But Dave's not the only supporting character who feels real. As Dan's daughter Violet, Steinfeld gives one of the more realistic portrayals of a teenager I've seen in recent years, considering the caricaturey ways that age bracket is usually written. We can see her hardness-- mostly put on to express her facade of adolescent indifference--but we can also see her fragility, and her eagerness to relate with her emotionally distant father. Then there's Mos Def, who does some great work as Dan's former business partner, now at odds with Dan who he feels is stuck in the times. It could have been a throwaway role-- the corporate and clueless executive who is too focused on money-- but Def allows us to see where this guy is coming from. And then there's James Corden, who plays Gretta's friend Steve-- a side character who nonetheless feels fully realized and provides some much needed moments of levity, especially in the movie's early moments.

But the stars are, of course, Knightley and Ruffalo. Knightley does great work-- Gretta is instantly likable, and has some truly poignant moments (the aforementioned phone call stands out). She's smart, she's talented, she's capable, but she's also emotionally vulnerable. It's so rare to see insecure characters like this portrayed on screen, and Gretta's self doubts are at once unwarranted, and refreshing to see in a feature film. But, despite her good work, you never truly buy that Knightley wrote any of these songs. That is one advantage that Once definitely has over Begin Again-- because the actors wrote all of the songs themselves, they feel effortlessly authentic. Here, Knightley's voice is sweet and her performance is good, but the connection with the songs is clearly not that of their writer.

Ruffalo, on the other hand, is extraordinary. As he proved in Foxcatcher, and as he has proved in numerous films before this year, Ruffalo is one of those rare actors who can elevate absolutely any project that he is a part of. His performance as Dan Mulligan is beautiful. Unlike Gretta, who can more easily acknowledge her insecurities, Dan is completely in denial. He puts on a face of bravado, even in the face of incredible and obvious failings. He can be a jerk, but it's because he feels like he deserves a life of misery. Ruffalo plays Dan as one part anger and one part desperation. As he storms through his former office-- a gesture he feels will be strong and make a statement but is in fact pathetic-- we feel like we're seeing this man fall apart. Despite not, at that moment, having been shown any real positive qualities to this person, we still feel for him. As the film moves along, Dan begins to change-- we see the excited Dan more and more, the one who is an actual force for good and not for self-destruction. We get to see a person in their element. Once again, Carney doesn't paint his characters in black or white, he just shifts our perspective on Dan, and Ruffalo manages to make both Dans feel cohesive. It's a simply beautiful performance that really humanizes the character. He makes him a character you want to root for.

Once was made when John Carney was first starting out. Much like the guy in his film, he was an unknown artist, hoping to make a product good enough to speak for itself and gain acclaim on its merits alone. I've always loved that Once gained acclaimed because of the attention that "Falling Slowly" brought it. That implies to me that, in the world of the movie, the same song likewise brings attention to the guy's album and he finds the success that he is looking for. Once was Carney's big break, and it examined that notion of the artist trying to get ahead. Now, in Begin Again, Carney must examine what it's like to stay ahead once you actually have said success. And for me its examination of its central themes is just as complex and layered as it was in Once. I can't speak to why others have not responded as overwhelmingly to the film as I did. After all, art is subjective, and if people weren't moved by it then there's nothing I can do. But I, for one, found it incredibly inspiring. I left the theater eager to create in a way I had not been in quite some time. Its musings on love and heartbreak and the uniting power of art were incredibly powerful to me. It's a love letter to artists everywhere. Check out this overlooked film and, if you can let yourself be carried by the magic of music, you're in for one of the absolute best movies of the year.

And afterwards, you can sullenly eat some ice cream!

BEST FILMS OF 2014-- #10: "Foxcatcher" Builds to a Fevered Breaking Point

This is the second in a series of eleven posts counting down my favorite films of the year. Be sure to read about my #11 pick, and about the honorable mentions too.

There are two types of people who will watch Foxcatcher: those who know the details of the story it is based on and those who do not. When I saw the film, I was in the latter category, and I imagine those who do know the tragic real-life events which inspired the film had a much different—but nonetheless equally compelling—experience. For those who don’t know the story of Dave and Mark Schultz—two Olympic gold-medalist wrestlers whose lives became entwined with that of the incredibly wealthy John DuPont—I will keep this analysis of the film free of spoilers, so feel free to read ahead. I will only divulge one tidbit of information: it is a true crime story. I mention this because I think it is essential to know going in. I mention it because it was the only thing I knew before going in to see the film myself. And I mention it because, even if you didn’t know this, just a few minutes into the film, you would intrinsically sense that something terrible is going to happen.

That sense of foreboding is exactly what sustains Foxcatcher, which clocks in at over two hours. Director Bennett Miller keeps the film at an incredibly slow pace that, in lesser hands, would have felt pretty agonizing. But there is just a constant sense of worry; an ever-present tension that makes everything feel dangerous. Even when very little is happening on screen, it feels gripping.

Steve Carell helps Channing Tatum work out.

One of the ways Miller keeps this sense of danger is by emphasizing the subject matter. Two of the characters on which the film focuses are wrestlers and the inherent violence in this profession is a suitable backdrop for the film's running sense of dread. And while Steve Carell is getting a lot of attention for his dramatic turn as John DuPont, the main character is actually wrestler Mark Schultz, played by Channing Tatum. Tatum portrays Mark as incredibly reserved. It becomes clear early on that this is not a man comfortable in his own skin. We never learn too much about Mark, but what we do learn suggests an incredibly insecure and vulnerable individual (which, of course, contrasts beautifully with the powerful physical presence Tatum’s figure provides). He was raised by his older brother Dave, and so Mark views him as both an older brother and as a father figure of sorts. He wants so eagerly to please him—as if his only sense of self-worth is linked directly towards Dave’s approval. Dave (a wonderful Mark Ruffalo) gives forth that approval willingly—treating Mark with sensitivity without being condescending. But amongst that sensitivity Tatum gives us cause to worry about what Mark is capable of. As gently as Tatum portrays Mark, there is always a volatility to him. Wrestling is, after all, aggressive by design. And there is a feeling that Mark—and, indeed, anyone we see on screen—could snap at any time. Miller brings Foxcatcher to a boiling point, but it’s a slow boil. The heat is always there, starting out as light frustration and building to a full-blown panic, until the aforementioned criminal act occurs and everything sort of explodes. But while we’ve been waiting for such a climax the entire film, it nonetheless is surprising in the moment. The underlying volatility actually emphasizes the sense of something about to burst. As much as we expect it, we don’t know what to expect, because when the film is on such a slow boil, we know anything could happen. If you don’t know the crime in question like me, your mind will race to try and figure it out. For a long time I was convinced that John DuPont had taken Mark under his wing because he wanted to eventually hunt him for sport.

Spoiler: My hunch was not correct.

Miller ‘s most recent success was the statistical sports movie Moneyball, but the film of his that Foxcatcher most vividly brings to mind is Capote, and in many ways the films can be seen as companion pieces. Both deal with true-life crimes, both feature, at their center, enigmatic and manipulative figures portrayed by actors in career-defining roles (it would be pretty easy to argue that Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Oscar-winning performance was the best of his all too short career, and Steve Carell as DuPont similarly rises to unexpected heights…but more on that later), and both have that previously mentioned sense of foreboding. But there’s one key difference: the crime in Capote happens before the film even begins, but the crime in Foxcatcher happens only at the very end. The aftermath of this crime is only touched upon in the epilogue. In other words, while Capote is concerned with the remorse of a criminal after they have been caught, and an examination of a crime that has already occurred, But, in both Capote and Foxcatcher, Miller refuses to give us an easy answer. A major part of Capote is Truman Capote trying to figure out why Perry Smith—a seemingly sensitive young man—would kill a family “in cold blood.” 

Hey, that's the name of the book!

And Truman never gets his answer. At one point, he loses his patience with Perry and flat out asks him “Why do you think I keep coming here?” As Truman writes his book, he finds himself completely lost as to his main character’s motivations. The same is true here—the confrontation between Mark Schultz and John DuPont is tough to figure out because both characters act in such odd ways.  Mark’s anger and tendency to revert into himself only intensifies as the film goes on, and he reaches an unstable and irrational point. DuPont himself is even more of an enigma. Presenting himself as a respectable and well-versed member of high society (the DuPonts, for the uninitiated, are one of the most wealthy families in the country—I recently heard rumors that they, and this is not a joke, basically control the entirety of Delaware). But as the film goes on, the façade of John DuPont begins to crack and we see the character’s innermost delusions and lunacy. He becomes erratic, he becomes unpredictable and, yes, he becomes scary. Miller can only guess at what was going on in the real John DuPont’s mind throughout the events of the film, and because those thoughts aren’t known, the film cannot provide the answers that, say, a fictional story might have. But, although the ending is ambiguous in its central question of “why did this happen” it is not unsatisfying. Which is no small feat.

Michael Scott's life took a dark turn after leaving Scranton.

One of the central reasons this seemingly impossible task is accomplished is because of the performances of Carell, Ruffalo, and Tatum, who craft such defined performances that we’re willing to trust that they’re in control of their characters even as those characters make ill-advised choices. Of the trio, the one getting the bulk of the attention is Carell, and it’s not difficult to see why. Whenever a comedic actor takes a dramatic turn and does so well it makes waves. And Carell certainly rises to the occasion. His John DuPont is always unnerving, always a little bit off. Just as Mark constantly seeks the approval of his older brother, John craves the acknowledgment of his dying mother (Vanessa Redgrave) who views his actions as foolish. Carell’s performance is remarkable in its consistency. The film asks the audience to alter its perception of John as Mark does—at first Mark views him as a mentor, then as a menace. But Carell never changes his performance—he simply crafts one which can fit both roles. He is charismatic in his awkwardness—allowing the allure of his vast wealth to compensate for his own failings; he’s naturally soft-spoken, and his intentionally apparent crooked nose—a prosthetic that is earning the film awards recognition for makeup--would not make him the life of the party that he is were it not for his last name. Carell’s lines are all delivered in a measured way—a sort of New England drawl if you can imagine such a thing, which allows the character to appear thoughtful even when he is not. This allows the character to maintain elusive to the audience—we never are really sure where he stands. Is he aware of what’s going on around him and a credible authority? Or is he an unstable child who, unironically insists that all of is his friends call him Golden Eagle? When we find out the character regularly uses cocaine, it is simultaneously surprising but also makes perfect sense. Carell plays him as a complete and utter contradiction, and it’s a fascinating one.

But, seriously though, that nose.

And, it should be noted that Carell finds some much needed humor in DuPont’s sheer weirdness (oh the lives of the rich and famous). But while the idea of Steve Carell being funny is hardly a novelty, I have to say that the comedic bits were probably the most surprising and impressive part of Carell’s performance for me. Yes, Steve Carell is often funny, but typically in a much sillier way than here—his humor growing from his sheer commitment and boundless energy. But here, the humor at DuPont’s expense is much dryer, much more surreal and askew than what we typically see. So, Carell showed versatility not only by showing his dramatic side, but by showing a variation in his comedic side.

Carell also portrays him as frail. For all of DuPont’s posturing and projections of greatness, he is a very weak individual, and one worries he could snap both physically and emotionally. This is only underscored by the fact that he’s acting against Tatum, who is roughly the size of a baby truck, and whose gruffness only further contrasts Carell’s almost dainty dialect. With a crowded Best Actor field this year (what else is new) Carell has emerged as the favorite to gain a nomination, and Tatum has fallen off the radar, and while I'm sad about this, I can see the reasoning why. Carell certainly has the more outwardly present character. But I think it’s a shame Tatum is mostly out of the conversation. Tatum redefined my perceptions of him as an actor even more than Carell. It’s a subtle performance, and, more than Carell’s, is vital to the film’s success. Carell’s performance would not work without the antithesis of Tatum. Tatum has Mark’s physicality down pat—a sort of uncertain shuffle. It is clear that wrestling is Mark’s life—he is incapable of anything outside of the sport. His body does not seem to know how to move when it’s not in the ring. The character may or may not be intelligent, but he clearly does not see himself as being so. He’s immature in many ways, and Tatum carries himself like a child who is wearing his dad’s suit and worries someone will notice. As other characters encourage him and remind him of his well-deserved accomplishments (winning gold at the Olympics is, after all, no small feat) you can tell his own doubts. It’s a beautiful, layered performance. When John DuPont—who acted as Mark’s very clear father figure for a significant time—eventually turns on him, Tatum’s anger is palpable. But amongst the anger there is a lot more—confusion, sadness, fear, and above all, a tragic sense of hurting and betrayal. He doesn’t understand what is happening or what to do, and he’s scared to admit that to himself. I left the theater thinking about Carell’s commanding performance, but as time went on, it was Tatum’s that stuck with me.

One of many tenderer moments between the Schultz brothers.

Which brings us to the third prominent entity in this story—Mark’s older brother, Dave. Mark Ruffalo is one of those actors who can instantly improve any project with which he’s involved. He elevates the work of those around him—molding his performance to compliment whoever he is sharing the screen with and making both of them better. It’s a rare skill, and is on full display here. With the aforementioned sense of unrest pervading the film, it could easily be a little too much to take. It’s bleak enough as it stands, but it needs something to cut up that sense of dread. And while Steve Carell does provide some humor, this is where Ruffalo comes in strongest. While Ruffalo matches Tatum’s physicality as a wrestler, and also moves with a distinct walk and mobility, Ruffalo’s Dave finds a certain ease with his movement and speech. He is not burdened by the worries and doubts of his brother. And, most importantly, he can separate himself from the wrestling. He loves the sport, but unlike both John and Mark, he does not become overly invested in it to the point of self destruction. He has a family, and he has a life. And, also unlike John and Mark, we see him smile regularly. You fall in love with this character almost immediately. He has a sweetness, a lightheartedness, and a geniality. He’s endearing, and demonstrates the effortless charisma and leadership that John DuPont so wishes he could emulate. Dave is not as prominently featured as Mark or John, but is absolutely crucial to the film—you are relieved to see him on film if only because his presence indicates the possibility of hope. It is mentioned several times that he’s known on the wrestling circuit not just as Dave Schultz, but as “The Great Dave Schultz,” and hearing this sort of sets him up as a superhero of sorts, and he fits the role to a tee.

But while this description might make Dave sound frustratingly perfect, Ruffalo prevents him from being so. Dave is free of arrogance—his compassion and clear tenderness with his younger and significantly troubled brother humanizes him. And, later on in the film, we get to see Dave out of his comfort zone, which you imagine is rare for him. One of the most memorable scenes is when John DuPont finances a documentary to be made about him and about what a great coach he is. The documentarian interviews the ever-polite Dave, and tries to coax Dave into referring to John as a “mentor,” which he certainly never was. Dave is unsure how to respond, and we see the two very different ways that these two brothers have reacted to the overbearing presence of John DuPont. It becomes apparent in this scene that while Mark is more outwardly troubled by how John controls him, Dave clearly is too—he just does not wear his emotions as clearly on his sleeve. It’s a fantastic scene where nothing is spelled out too clearly for the audience, and yet you pick up on Dave’s thought process immediately.

Dave calms down his brother.

Now that I have sung the praises of these three performers, it’s time to return to the director, Bennett Miller, who deserves a hefty amount of credit not only for these performances on their own, but how they work together so cohesively. The three men at the center of Foxcatcher fit together like a puzzle. John offers the passion for wrestling—he loves the sport and, more importantly, the glory that comes with it. For him, the personal triumph of winning in such a physical arena is where the appeal lies, and knows he cannot attain such a high level of greatness on his (one of his assistants has to pay his wrestling opponent to take a dive and let John win a wrestling tournament that he himself sponsors) which is why he approaches Mark to coach him in the first place. He does not achieve greatness, he merely buys it and puts his name on the accomplishments of others. This is seen most clearly when he claims the world championship trophy which Mark won and puts it on his own mantle.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some thrust themselves upon greatness.

Mark, meanwhile, represents the dedication to the craft, which manifests itself in his physical prowess. Mark’s skill as a wrestler predominantly comes from his work ethic. He is constantly training, keeping himself in his prime by any means possible. This is his whole life. In the opening scene, he speaks to a group of children about what having a gold medal means. And he says it’s about work ethic and dedication. His approach to a problem is to go after it headfirst. The wrestler and his mentality are both all muscle.

And then there’s Dave, who represents a more mental side of things. He represents the art of the craft. While Dave Schultz is undoubtedly in good shape, consider that one is played by Channing Tatum and the other is played by a slightly balding Mark Ruffalo—Dave is never meant to be the physically stronger of the two. When Mark and Dave talk about wrestling, Dave is always the one who brings up strategy. His focus is more on technique than physicality. And this is why Dave always seems like the odd one out of the three, because he is a rational mind dealing with two people who practice irrational ways of thinking. He achieves greatness through thought and logic, through a keen intellect and tactics as opposed to strength on its own.

All three are necessary, and all three build the film into what it is. I can understand why the Gotham Awards, rather than nominate any of these actors individually, simply decided to give an award to the joint performance of all three. Their performances are one and the same. Different cogs in one well-oiled machine. And that machine runs well thanks to Miller. While Foxcatcher is doing well on the awards circuit, Miller is not. He’s being beaten out by the stylized work of David Fincher, the assured hand of Ava DuVernay, and the sheer patience and ambition of Richard Linklater. All of these directors are deserving of accolades, and I don’t mean to say that Miller deserves a nomination more than they do, but I wish he were more of a presence on the awards circuit this year. His work with his cast is arguably the best of the year, and while many directors were able to bring out exemplary performances this year, Miller’s work with these actors is nothing short of amazing.

As an example, the first time we see Dave, it’s when Mark meets with him at a gym to train. They say hello, and wordlessly begin to spar. It’s a quiet moment, and the actors and director bring out the beauty and grace that comes with such a physical activity. They are not fighting, they are building upon an emotional connection. For the emotionally distant Mark, who only has his brother in his life, this is his interpretation of intimacy. They spar, and when one is pinned, they seem to telepathically understand when to start again. And then they fight again, two brothers forever linked by their chosen sport, whose fighting is contradictorily sweet and kind. Watching the brothers wrestle tells a story. We instinctively know how much they mean to each other. Just as how Miller can make us feel immediately ill at ease just by a subtle change in lighting or sound. It’s a film that stays with you, it’s a film that surprises you, and it’s a film that extracts beauty and meaning from a bleak and tragic setting.

The real life Dave and Mark Schultz, after winning their gold medals.