10. VFW
VFW is not a big, clever film, nor an especially complex one. What it is though, is pure, unadulterated, grindhouse fun. The film is a nasty, gore-heavy splatfest that makes full use of its single location, the kind of delightful midnight vibe cut from the same cloth as Mandy. There's genuine thrills, slightly stiff but generally endearing comedy and a charismatically gruff turn from Stephen Lang. It's straightforward but really, really fun, like Green Room without the subtext. It just about coasts by on its pure bloodthirsty charm, a passionately made film that doesn't do much to challenge the viewer. And if that's what you're looking for, you could do much worse than this
9. Ema
Pablo Larráin's 8th film is a wonderfully conducted dance of destruction; chaotic and passionate and bursting with energy. It's a film that operates at full thrust for its entire runtime, and although this go for broke approach hits a few snags, you have to admire the sheer consistency of the energy here. I mean, it's a drama about an imploding relationship that plays out like an hour and forty minute music video. The emotions here are big, loud and in full colour, arranged in a way that plays like a heady fusion of MTV and Almodóvar. The performances are also ace, especially that fearless leading turn by Mariana Di Girolamo. It's a real thrill, blowing up carefully studied emotions to huge proportions, and the result is absolutely fascinating
8. The Invisible Man
Leigh Whannell's reinvention of the 1933 classic was a deft change in direction for the Dark Universe, swapping the world-building mess of The Mummy for an intelligent and tense discussion of gaslighting and emotional abuse through the masterfully crafted tension. The thrills were slick and the shocks were plentiful, but what really resonates here is the sheer sense of danger that the film manages to keep up. The sustained level of emotional distress in this film is utterly insane, and it never once veers into melodrama or tries to imply the central relationship was anything but toxic. The result is one of the most effective horrors in recent memory
It's also the last film I saw in a cinema. God I miss going to the cinema
7. Weathering With You
Makoto Shinkai's beautiful eco-romance isn't quite as great as Your Name (honestly what is?) but it's still an utterly beautiful ode to the act of supporting the people we love. The gentle tone and easy, slice-of-life structure make for irresistibly charming viewing, a film so packed with detail and fueled by huge reservoirs of not just emotion, but feeling. Like Your Name, Weathering With You is a film that plays out like a life being lived right in front of your eyes. It's another slam dunk from the most consistently magical voice in anime right now
It's also got the score of the year
6. About Endlessness
2020 has proven to be an absurdist nightmare, so a new Roy Andersson couldn't have come at a better time. About Endlessness is 75 minutes of his signature prankish surrealism, which is as hilarious, heartbreaking and horrifying as ever. It's a series of screams at a world that seems to make less and less sense, and the fact that he does this while interrogating the existence of a higher power and delivering some of the silliest laughs of the year is no mean feat. He may not be an especially prolific filmmaker, but in a year where each day is increasingly becoming the same, he might just be one of the most necessary
5. The Half of It
Far from being just another Netflix teen rom-com, The Half of It stands out as being one of the smartest, most sensitive coming of agers I've seen in some time. No cliches, no easy punchlines, just an empathetic, clear-eyed take on a timeless tale. It's a film that takes its audience seriously, exploring the ideas of self-love and identity with deftly handled nuance and refreshing bittersweetness. It's a real treat, a heartfelt and poignant and deeply moving take on race and sexuality. More like this please
4. Da 5 Bloods
Spike Lee strikes again with his latest joint, a full-blooded, sweeping take on the conflicts that linger long after the war is fought. It's another beautifully angry and passionately delivered interrogation of America's past, with one of the finest ensembles of the year (Clarke Peters! Jonathon Majors! Chadwick Boseman!), the standout of which is an absolute belter of a performance from Delroy Lindo. It's a fine follow-up to Blackkklansman, swapping out that film's zeitgeisty sting for a kind of urgent hypnotism, lulling the audience into a heady tale of a nation and its never-ending war
3. First Love
Over one hundred films deep into his frankly insane career, Takashi Miike delivers a typically wild ride, surreal and frantic and violent and utterly hysterical. What's especially great about this one is its huge beating heart. It's his romantic comedy, and for all the beatdowns, exploding (toy) dogs and scantily clad ghosts, it does tell a really tender love story. By the time the chaos slows down, you realise just how much you care about the two leads. It leaves you craving more Miike craziness, and considering the size of the man's back catalogue, that's definitely not a problem
2. True History of the Kelly Gang
George McKay's golden run continues with his ace turn in Justin Kurzel's wonderfully revisionist retelling of the Ned Kelly story. It's a wonderfully liberal take on history, a reminder that it's not so much the story itself that matters, but the way we tell it. It's an incendiary piece of storytelling, a masterful combination of elemental cinema and delirious punk, brought to life by an incredible cast and a mastery of genre from Kurzel. It's deliciously radical poetry, forged in fire and packing a kind of venom that is both timely and timeless
1. Bacurau
An utterly singular fusion of moods and genres, Bacurau is unlike anything else. Sure, it wears its influences on its sleeve (Carpenter, Jodorowsky, Peckinpah), but the composition of its ideas and story beats is just absolutely seamless, a uniquely cinematic take on the sociopolitical issues of modern Brazil and Western entitlement and the uneasy feeling of being an outsider in your own community. That these ideas exist so comfortably together is a wonder; that they do so while the film they're in is also constructing such a compelling, masterfully rendered world while also providing sharp, violent thrills is a near miracle. It's a true wonder, an excellent piece of genre filmmaking that's so good that picking a standout scene is incredibly difficult, though special mention goes to that shift in perspective. It's the third film from Kleber Mendonça Filho, who's quickly establishing himself as one of the most exciting voices in cult cinema
