So before we kick off with the top 10, I'd like to fire off some honourable mentions. This year I actually had more of these than I have had before, because it was just such an excellent twelve months of cinema. The fact that these 10 missed the cut is a testament to how strong the year was, and I'd highly recommend checking all of these out, because they are all great films. In no particular order, my honourable mentions for 2019 are:
Pain and Glory
Little Women
Ad Astra
Ford V. Ferrari
In Fabric
Klaus
For Sama
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
I Lost My Body
Uncut Gems
Now, without further ado, let's get cracking!
10. 1917
Sam Mendes' "single-shot" First World War drama could have easily been a technical experiment, entirely focused on whether or not Mendes, Deakins and everyone else involved could pull it off. And although 1917 is undoubtedly the technical achievement of the year, it's also so, so much more. The continuous take style is impressive but also lends the film a huge amount of weight, letting the quiet moments of drama play out uninterrupted and giving the action so much more rhythm and flow. This is an immersive piece of historical cinema, playing out in real time, and in doing this Mendes is giving you an experience that feels so close to the real thing, always visceral, tense, and full of uncertainty. This alone makes 1917 one of the most thrilling movies of the year, with action setpieces to die for, but this devotion to recreating the experience of a pair of hapless soldiers begins to result in something else entirely. In telling this story in this way, Mendes is reminding you why showing history onscreen matters. What's particularly exciting about this, though, is that it's a reminder that sometimes, it's not what's being said that's important, but how it's conveyed, and portraying the events of the story in this way is a thrilling bit of forward-thinking filmmaking from Sam Mendes. The quality of his direction really can't be overstated here, every movement and gesture carefully conducted like a beautifully brutal symphony. And when it reaches its glorious, nerve-wracking crescendo, there's no doubt that 1917 is a landmark in the war genre
9. The Irishman
Okay yeah, this was the highest ranking 2019 film on my best of the decade list, and through watching and rewatching various other films from they year, its position has gone down slightly, but The Irishman is still a brilliant piece of cinema, proof that 77 years young and 25 films deep, Martin Scorsese is still a master. He's at the top of his game here, delivering a sweeping, sobering and utterly epic obituary of a gangster film. The Irishman is classic Scorsese, with tough guys and sharp dialogue and a doo-wop soundtrack, but what makes it feel fresh is the deep tragedy at its centre. It's simultaneously absolutely huge and very, very small, working its way through the story of the insidious forces at work in 20th century America until it arrives in the heart of a man utterly destroyed by crime and sin. The de-ageing effects were much discussed, but they hardly detract from the barnstorming performances of the three leads; a stoic, repressed De Niro, a chillingly quiet Joe Pesci, and a brash, abrasive and impossibly stubborn Pacino. It's a big film with similarly huge ideas, about morality, crime and politics, sure, but also about time, and death, and spiritual devastation. It slows down and hones in on the often ignored tragedy of the American gangster, and when it does it feels like a sobering reflection, like Scorsese himself stopping to ruminate on the end, to tell a story where time is the toughest guy of them all. It's his trademark ingredients with a newly added, incredibly refreshing dose of perspective, something that seems to have sharpened considerably at this point in Scorsese's life and career. To quote ice-cream enthusiast Jimmy Hoffa, The Irishman is a work of art
8. The Farewell
Lulu Wang's second film is something truly wonderful. Gentle, sensitive and absolutely gorgeous, The Farewell is one of the best stories of the year, made even better because it's based on an actual lie. Wang approaches the differences between Eastern and Western attitudes to death in a way that's nuanced and assured, sometimes playful, always poignant, and ultimately deeply moving. Every member of this family seems real, every emotion expressed feels genuine, and every moment of humour amid the heartbreak feels completely natural. The Farewell takes care to prevent any emotion from ever feeling forced, instead quietly observing as they surface and letting them develop on their own. The tone is carefully balanced here, everything measured just so. This is a film with a lot to say, navigating the complexities of family, culture and morality with aplomb. It's incredibly clever without sacrificing its sincerity, feeling so authentic and so emotional and so absolutely real. It's such an easy film to fall in love with, especially with how realistic each of these performances are. Awkwafina is the standout here, quietly articulating so much emotion in such an understated way. Her face, her body language, the subtle notes of emotion in the tone of her voice, everything about her performance is packed with empathy. Zhao Shuzhen is also fantastic as Nai Nai, immediately loveable and warm and impossible not to become completely attached to. It is a pure emotional experience, so delicately designed to carry huge amounts of feeling and weight, transcending cultural specificities and cementing itself as one of the most powerful films of 2019. Like I said, it's truly wonderful
7. Us
Jordan Peele broke new ground with the superlative Get Out, but in making Us, he's done the improbable, not just following up his debut, but actually topping it. If Get Out mined its horror from the literal black and white climate of modern America, then Us is something far more abstract, broadening out both the genre conventions and the political subtext. The result is a twisted, intelligent blast. There's so much going on in Us, so much commentary on the vicious surrealism of the American myth and the paralysing fear of facing ourselves. The gradual, fairy-tale-like reveals are expertly plotted, each one deepening and broadening the warped, chaotically psychological musings of the plot. Us is punctuated and elevated by Peele's mischievous sense of humour, wringing some darkly funny laughs from the most unexpected situations. Lupita Nyong'o gives not one but two incredible performances as a girl and her shadow, essentially playing out an utterly unpredictable one-woman power dynamic that's never 100% set. Us is a film where all of the horror comes from within; the dark memories that surface in a woman's psyche, the long buried secrets of a nation, the insidious plot that's been in motion for decades. Like Get Out, this is a film made up of small but significant details, but here the mosaic they form is more of a set of questions than a singular comment. And that's okay; in a time of discord and confusion, Us acts as a mirror, reflecting back what's projected onto it, suggesting that maybe the world it's being released into is its own worst enemy
6. Booksmart
I. Love. This. Film. Booksmart was one of the biggest delights of the year, a teen comedy that was fresh, exciting and incredibly funny. Olivia Wilde's debut was smart and fun, a lot like its main characters, and it's hands down the most rewatchable film on this list. It's just such a fun movie to spend time with. Beanie Feldstein and Kaitlyn Dever have amazing chemistry, and their ride-or-die bond is what makes Booksmart absolutely pop. Molly and Amy's friendship is wonderfully written, funny and sweet and utterly believable. And what's even cooler about Booksmart is that every character here is memorable, and likeable too. There are no archetypes, no one-dimensional caricatures, just an ensemble cast of funny characters bursting with personality. It's an incredibly good-natured movie, one that genuinely cares about all of its characters and absolutely makes sure that you like them too. It's a familiar story fantastically realised, with a smart, savvy script that reminds you how fun this kind of movie can be when done right. It's also a film that's not afraid to experiment, from an animated drug trip to an incredible moment in a swimming pool and a heartbreaking single-shot argument. It's just such a blast, the rare film about partying that's just as much fun, and it's proof-positive that the teen comedy has life in it yet. Booksmart's awesome, plain and simple. Turns out movies can be pretty fun. Who knew?
5. Knives Out
It seemed like a shot in the dark after how divisive The Last Jedi was, but Rian Johnson's murder mystery was an absolute treat first minute to last. It's obvious that Johnson takes pleasure in being the storyteller, in letting his yarn unfold in an unexpected, captivating way. He sets the scene and then lets it shift and change, never setting it completely until the very end, and the fun that he's having while he's doing it is utterly infectious. It's a great experience, to be in the hands of such a playful fabulist, never quite sure what's going to happen until it does, and repeatedly being surprised when he flips the script again and brings the plot in an entirely new direction. It's like great theatre, playing out in this lavish mansion with one of the best ensemble casts I've seen in years. Daniel Craig, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Chris Evans, Toni Collette, Don Johnson, Christopher Plummer, and the rest of this wickedly wonderful cast are having so much fun delivering this knotty, razor sharp dialogue, pairing the laughs with a sly social commentary that never distracts, always amplifying each quip with a deliciously political sting. Johnson has measured everything so carefully here, constructing a love letter to the whodunnit that revels in classic genre trappings while still feeling uniquely contemporary. The sheer passion for storytelling is immense, and that translates to a film that's so much fun because it's so well put together, twisty and unpredictable and devilishly enjoyable
4. Parasite
Bong Joon-Ho took the world by storm this year with his seventh film, and it's a tricky one to talk about. So much of this movie is in the experience of watching it, and to spoil it would be to give away some of 2019's best cinematic surprises. So I won't give too many details, but I will say this: Bong Joon-Ho is establishing himself as one of the most important filmmakers in the industry right now. Everything here is fine-tuned, every detail and story beat working in unison to create one of the most wickedly clever films in some time. The steady tonal shift here is masterfully done, gliding from incredibly funny satire into something more troubling but still incredibly relevant. It's hilarious and thrilling and disturbing and poignant and deeply sad. It's wonderfully constructed, elegant filmmaking, telling a story about class that's complex and intelligent and incredibly entertaining. The film never tells you how to feel or who to root for, and the fact that every character here is likeable makes everything that happens resonate even more. It's not obvious, painting a portrait of two families and leaving it up to the audience to draw a conclusion. Bong's direction is the best it's ever been here. I especially love how he uses space; upstairs/downstairs, inside/outside, every character's position in a scene so expertly conducted. It's such a thrill to watch unfold, perfectly balancing intelligence with insanity and touching on some timely themes along the way. It's a thriller where nobody's right or wrong, where everyone's just trying to get by, where the irresponsibility of the rich and the survival instinct of the poor clash in a wonderfully twisted way, and the result is dementedly brilliant cinema
3. The Lighthouse
2019 was an excellent year for horror, and it didn't get much better than Robert Eggers' miraculously mental second film. The Lighthouse is pure cinematic insanity, looking and feeling like a lost 30s horror film and diving to depths that few films could muster. It's immediately an aesthetic wonder with it's beautiful black-and-white cinematography and cramped aspect ratio, giving it an incredibly oppressive atmosphere right off the boat. This is a film that seeks to swallow you, trapping you in this wild tale of two lighthouse keepers slowly succumbing to their own isolation. It was gnarly, chaotic and utterly engrossing, bizarrely hilarious and deeply disturbing. The dialogue is deliciously delivered and flows like briny verse, fantastically performed by Robert Pattison and Willem Dafoe. Their performances are stunning, bringing this insane story to life by embodying this unstable, constantly shifting relationship. Eggers amplifies the horror by leaving much of it ambiguous, never actually revealing exactly what's going on, leaving it completely open to any number of explanations, including madness, manipulation, drunkenness and demonic forces. The imagery is spellbinding and intense, frightening and surreal and dripping with meaning, especially the seagull, the great omen of doom that prompts one of the film's most chaotically hilarious moments. It's a film that radiates black magic, feeling haunted and dangerous first frame to last while dissecting this volatile, fractious bond. It is astonishing cinema, certainly not for everyone but very much for me. The Lighthouse is frenzied, rain-lashed poetry from one of the most demented voices in horror right now, and one of the most soul stirring experiences of 2019
2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
Quentin Tarantino's ninth film was lauded as being a love letter to Old Hollywood, but I actually think it's more mournful than that. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is a dewy eyed tribute to a time gone by that plays out in the last days of an era that's steadily ticking towards destruction by changing attitudes, both in cinema and society. Despite the overarching sense of melancholy though, it's an absolute delight, a laid back cruise through a painstakingly recreated 1969 LA. No detail is left behind here, the film absolutely packed with titbits and Easter eggs that pay homage to all sorts of 60s pop culture. It's a film that contains multitudes, but it's more of a snapshot of a time and place than a forensic examination, and it's all the better for it, with a mood and atmosphere that's utterly engrossing. What's really exciting though, is Tarantino's storytelling presence. This is a side of him we haven't seen before, relaxed and warm and gentle. His separation of Sharon Tate from her untimely murder is a particular masterstroke, telling a story where she can just exist, giving her an opportunity to just live her life. It attracted attention for its wild rewriting of history, but even that is spirted and irreverent, intensely violent but fuelled by idealism. It's far and away his most pleasant film, with characters that are genuinely fun to spend time with. Leo's Rick Dalton is a fantastic hybrid of any number of forgotten TV actors who never really got their due, but it's Brad Pitt's Cliff Booth who is immediately cemented as one of Tarantino's finest creations, a laid-back, lethal wanderer who gets some of QT's tastiest lines in years. It's cinema as a door to somewhere else, a pure celebration of a power that only film possesses. It's pure, cineliterate magic, and nothing short of being one of Tarantino's finest. To quote bespectacled agent Marvin Schwarz: "What a picture"
1. Jojo Rabbit
Taika Waititi's Nazi satire could have been just a lighthearted romp with a silly imaginary Hitler, but it's to the credit of him and everyone else involved in Jojo Rabbit that it's so much more. This is, simply put, the most triumphant piece of cinema of 2019. It's incredibly funny, with a great variety of perfectly paced and timed jokes, but it's also incredibly timely. This is a film about love. It examines the effects of hate, and laughs at the systems that teach it, and proudly champions love as an act of salvation. Waititi's child's-eye style has never been better, full of idealism and wonder that makes every moment of heartbreak and horror hit that much harder. The film's grip on its tone is absolutely expert, effortlessly and fearlessly taking on the dark realities of its subject matter with warmth and positivity. It's incredibly clever, full of little touches of genius, but what really makes it work is how charged with feeling it is. It is an infectiously compassionate film, one that rejects cool cynicism in favour of idealistic joy and is so much better for it. Here, Waititi's gleefully quirky jokes feel like acts of resistance, fun and frivolity that refuse to buckle under the forces of hate. The cast are note perfect, especially Roman Griffin-Davis and Thomasin McKenzie as the leads, with ace supporting turns from Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Stephen Merchant and even Waititi himself as a child's imagined version of Hitler. This is emotionally charged, feelgood cinema that only Waititi is capable of delivering. It's got all the pure glee of Boy with an added political sting, one that's sharp and unrelenting but ultimately full of hope. It's a film that urges us to be that little bit better, to reject hate and celebrate love and laugh at the evils of the world, because to do so is to remove them of their influence. Jojo Rabbit is a true marvel, an absolute gem and hands down my favourite film of 2019