First off, my apologies that this is coming a bit later than usual. This past week turned into quite the month, crazy both at work and outside of it. By the time I sat down to work on this in the evening, my brain was in a fog and I just couldn’t put the words out. So, it’s coming a bit later, and hopefully next week we’re back on track.
This week, Detroit Film Critics Society, of which I’m a voting member, released its nominees for the best in film for 2020; the winners will be announced Monday. I think this is the twelfth or thirteenth year I’ve participated with the DFCS, and it’s always a pleasure. The pandemic meant that we were unable to have our traditional screening days, but we were still kept in ready supply of screeners. Due to the pandemic and to coincide with the delayed Oscar deadlines, our voting occurred at the beginning of this week, which meant I had extra time to catch up on some films I may not have been able to see in late 2020 (our deadline for releases was Feb. 28, so some movies that technically were released in 2021 were eligible).Â
Last December, I pulled together a list of what were, at that time, my favorite films I’d seen in 2020. I said that if I saw enough to have to revamp my list, I’d provide an update early in 2021. Well, guess what? So much of what I saw was so good that my list is markedly different from the one I published earlier. Only six of the 10 films on that list carried over to the new one, and the ranking for several has shifted as well. So, this week, I figured I’d provide that updated list.Â
As I said back then, this was a solid year for film, and any lists looking back on it should not have an asterisk. Good cinema was abundant this year, even if it wasn’t coming from the major studios or seen on a big screen. We’re starting to see the studio world slowly kick back into gear; last weekend, Tom and Jerry pulled in healthy numbers at the box office, and with theaters reopening in New York this weekend, I’m curious to see how Disney’s Raya and the Last Dragon performs. I wouldn’t say we’re back to business as usual yet, and that might be something worth discussing in the coming weeks.Â
But right now, let’s take one look back, at what I consider the ten best films of 2020 (and the first two months of 2021).
Nomadland: Chloe Zhao’s thoughtful look at life on the fringes brought me to tears with its simple beauty. Frances McDormand is fantastic as Fern, a woman who takes to van living after the death of her husband. Zhao crafts a compassionate look at people who, for a variety of reasons, choose to take a different path than the one dictated to them by American culture. She never romanticizes it; Fern is still beset by car troubles, money woes and the knowledge that people look askance at her choice. But Zhao also celebrates the unexpected joys of checking out on society, including the community of intentional outcasts Fern encounters and the moments of beauty that creep into the stillness. This film’s reminder that there are more ways to happiness than the American Dream is much needed in 2020. (In theaters and on Hulu).
Minari: We talk more about this in a recent episode of We’re Watching Here, but Isaac Lee Chung’s drama would make an interesting double feature with Nomadland. If that film is about rejecting the American dream and pulling up your roots, Minari is about making a life in America, our relationship with the land, and the importance of family and community in doing so. Steven Yeun is fantastic as a Korean American father trying to develop a farm on a plot of Arkansas land. Minari is by turns moving, funny and insightful, a story that examines family, capitalism, assimilation and faith without ever becoming pat or formulaic. It’s a gem. (In theaters and available On Demand).
Small Axe: Lover’s Rock: Steve McQueen’s BBC/Amazon Prime anthology was a beautiful late-year surprise. Each of the five films tackle the history and struggles of England’s West Indian community. All are worth watching; Lovers Rock is essential. For 80 minutes, McQueen stages a house party in the London suburbs. He lingers on food preparation and setup. He immerses us in extended dance sequences and singalongs. He watches people take tentative steps toward relationships and celebrate their culture, if only for an evening. It’s an energetic and fully alive experience, a reminder of the importance of community in handing down heritage and celebrating identity. It’s one of the most enjoyable and immediate film experiences of the year, and the best thing the Oscar-winning director has done. (Stream on Amazon Prime).
Sound of Metal: Darius Marder’s directorial debut is an innovative and emotional tour-de-force, fronted by a blistering lead performance by Riz Ahmed as Ruben, a heavy metal drummer confronting hearing loss. Rather than frame Ruben’s story as one of overcoming a disability, Marder focuses on his struggle to accept the curveball that life has thrown at him and grow comfortable with the stillness. In a year where routines and plans were thrown out the window, Sound of Metal resonates, and never gives in to the temptation to overplay the emotion or indulge in melodrama. Marder’s sound design puts audiences in the middle of Ruben’s struggle, and the film is anchored by award-worthy performances from Ahmed, Olivia Cooke and Paul Raci. (Stream on Amazon Prime).Â
Da 5 Bloods: Spike Lee’s angry, sprawling film is one of his best. The film follows a group of veterans as they return to Vietnam to reclaim stolen gold, and their return reopens old rifts and memories. Lee tackles the emotional and mental plight of Vietnam veterans, and how the racism of America’s past continues to bleed into its present. Lee speaks cinema, and Da 5 Bloods is bursting with references to other films, from Apocalypse Now to Treasure of the Sierra Madre to Platoon, and more, but this is never just reference for the sake of reference. Early in the film, the characters note how the majority of Vietnam movies are about white soldiers, when so many Black men fought and died in the war; this is Lee’s opportunity to reclaim the genre. In addition, the film features all-timer performances from Delroy Lindo and, in one of his final films, Chadwick Boseman. (Stream on Netflix).
First Cow: The latest from Kelly Reichardt would fit snugly alongside Nomadland and Minari as an examination of the American dream and our relationship to the land and each other. The story of two friends in 1880s California who hatch a business proposition that depends on the illicit use of a local landowner’s prized cow, this is Reichardt’s heist film. She blends that genre with the look of a Western, anchoring it in a touching story of friendship, yet never losing sight of the issues of disparities in America and the pitfalls of capitalism. It’s a delicate act to pull off, and Reichardt does it supremely well. I put off viewing this film for too long simply because I feared a slog. Shame on me; this is one of the most purely enjoyable and thoughtful films I’ve seen in a long time. (Available to rent and purchase on most digital platforms).Â
Judas and the Black Messiah: Shaka King’s searing, tense depiction of the relationship between Black Panthers Party chairman Fred Hampton and FBI informant William O’ Neal rests on the interplay between LaKeith Stanfield (as O’Neal) and Daniel Kaluuya (as Hampton). Stanfield is all stoicism and cool on the outside, but his eyes give away the anxiety tearing him apart. Kaluuya delivers one of the year’s best performances as Hampton, all charisma and fury when necessary but also able to be quiet, introspective and elated when allowed. Like many other films this past year (including the next film on this list), it’s an examination of individual responsibility when confronting systemic racism, and how the idol of comfort can cause us to make decisions that are deadly to others and soul-killing for us. This moves with the intensity and ferocity of a great thriller, but it never sacrifices the ideals and passion that fueled the movement. (In theaters and on HBO Max).Â
One Night in Miami: Regina King proves there’s nothing she can’t do with her directorial debut, a crackling adaptation of Kemp Powers’ stage play. One Night in Miami imagines a meeting between Cassius Clay, Malcolm X, Sam Cooke and Jim Brown in which the four icons discuss their roles in and responsibilities to the Civil Rights movement. Although the film takes place primarily in a small motel room, King wisely finds ways to open up the story. And her cast avoids the pitfalls that come with portraying such iconic figures, never falling into mimicry or imitation but bringing to life as flawed, often unsure human beings. The entire cast is great, but special recognition to Kingsley Ben-Adir as Malcolm X and Leslie Odom Jr. as Sam Cooke; the conflict between them is central to the movie’s themes, and the two actors are riveting. (Now streaming on Amazon Prime).
The Climb: Michael Angelo Covino’s film is proof that the buddy comedy doesn’t have to lack visual imagination. Covino co-wrote and co-stars with real-life best friend Kyle Marvin for this years-spanning epic about two best buds and their often toxic relationship. Covino and Marvin’s chemistry is palpable and the beating heart of this sprawling story, which is by turns deeply funny and bracingly real. Covino, in particular, is both heartbreaking and hilarious as the more toxic of the duo. But in addition to a gift for witty dialogue, Covino also has a strong directorial eye. He composes the film in a series of long shots, including a stunner shot from outside a home on Christmas Eve. The direction is exemplary, but the visual tricks don’t detract from the film’s insightful look at male friendship. One of the year’s best surprises. (The Climb is available for rent on most digital platforms).Â
Dick Johnson is Dead: Kirsten Johnson’s documentary is both a love letter to her father and an opportunity to mourn him before he goes. When she realizes that her dad, the titular Dick Johnson, is getting up in years and starting to experience the first symptoms of Alzheimer’s, Johnson decides to celebrate him in what initially seems to be an odd way: filming a variety of tableaus in which he suffers an untimely, and sometimes darkly funny, death. But these scenes are merely setup, the hooks on which to hang this funny and moving meditation about our discomfort with death. Johnson allows such intimate access to the father-daughter relationship that, by the end, we feel like we know Dick almost as well as she does, and we also aren’t ready to say goodbye. Its final shot is one of the great cinematic moments of 2020. (Stream on Netflix).
The Digest
Where you can find me this week
Picks and Pans Podcast: I had the pleasure to join my We’re Watching Here co-host Perry and fellow Detroit Film Critics Society member MontiLee Stormer on our fellow critic Nate Adam’s podcast to talk about the launch of new streaming service Paramount+. We talk about the deluge of streaming services, the rising costs associated, and Paramount’s decision to shrink the theatrical screening window. But I don’t stand for the Frasier slander. Listen and subscribe.Â
Raya and the Last Dragon review:  Last weekend, I had the opportunity to preview the newest Disney animated offering, which you can watch in theaters and on Disney+ (for an additional fee) starting this weekend. I say more in the review, but I think Raya is an interesting twist on the princess formula, substituting songs for action sequences. It’s not without its flaws, and the film never totally escapes the Disney template, but it’s gorgeously animated and enjoyable. Read my review on Far From Hollywood.Â
Chrisicisms
The pop culture I’ve been consumingÂ
Into America’s Wild: Last weekend, my wife and I took our kids to the Henry Ford Museum for the afternoon and, while there, decided to see one of their IMAX documentaries. There’s not much to say about this 45-minute film, narrated by Morgan Freeman. It’s what you expect. It follows a group of kids learning about nature across the United States. But it’s all accompanied by gorgeous photography, taking in the great vistas of the west to the openness of space. After a year of largely watching films on laptops and computer screens, watching this in crystal-clear IMAX projection and perfect 3D was like a religious experience. My kids’ minds were boggled, and it reminded me of the pure power of seeing something on a giant screen.Â
The Morning Show: I finished the Apple TV+’s first season this week, and I don’t know that my thoughts are much changed from last week. The first big show from Apple is by and large a narrative mess, particularly in its opening stretch. The show has a hard time figuring out what it’s focus is, and it’s overwhelmed by its large cast and multiple storylines. But in the back half, as it finally narrows its focus to the #MeToo movement and cultures that created it, it becomes riveting television. It helps that the cast is fantastic, particularly Jennifer Anniston, Billy Crudup and Steve Carell. Its finale feels a bit overstuffed, but it both closes off some of the messier aspects of the first season and sets the slate for a second that could go anywhere. I’m optimistic. (Streaming on Apple TV+).Â
The Spongebob Movie: Sponge on the Run: Caught this with the kids on Paramount+. I’m debating writing a longer review, but I don’t know if that’s necessary. This is Spongebob. You know what you’re getting. It’s silly and surreal, with the character’s over-enthusiastic sincerity trying to overpower the chaos surrounding him. If Spongebob makes you laugh (and he makes me laugh), you’ll chuckle a few times at this, even if the CGI animation doesn’t seem to allow for the frenetic pacing of 2D. But three movies in, this feels like the formula is catching up; nothing is quite as weird or bizarre as it could be. And that’s saying something when Keanu Reeves shows up as a talking tumbleweed; but it never hits the weird WTFery of watching Spongebob catch a ride on David Hasslehoff’s back hairs or the porpoise who controls the universe from the previous movies. (Available to rent and on Paramount TV+).Â
The Goonies: My wife was out last night, and I decided it was high time my nine-year-old caught up with this one. Like any normal child of the ‘80s, The Goonies was a regular rewatch in my household, one of my favorite movies. As an adult, I’ve gone back and forth on it. If you put it up against the other kid films from the behind the scenes talent here, particularly E.T. and Gremlins, it lacks the heart and imagination. And there are way too many scenes that just involve people screaming over each other; it’s a very shrill movie. And yet, it’s so interwoven into my DNA that I can’t help but smile at it. Watching it with the target audience, though, I understand anew the love for it. It’s kid wish fulfillment, with danger that is real but easily disarmed, high stakes, pirates and water slides. If I age out of it from time to time, that’s kind of the point; unlike E.T., a movie that looks back on childhood, The Goonies revels in it. It’s a kids’ movie through and through and, after awhile, there are no grownups allowed. (It’s The Goonies; you probably own it).