Clerks: A Nonchalant Masterpiece

I think Kevin Smith is really interesting. Because even though he hasn't made a legitimately good film for some time, you could never accuse him of being boring. But before he made movies that his earlier films would have definitely made fun of, he was a really interesting filmmaker, with an insane talent: he could spin a story out of nothing. And okay, that sounds trivial. Minimalism is nothing new in cinema. It's not new now, and it wasn't new in 1994, when Clerks was released. But the thing about Clerks is that it's just that; a story about nothing. A movie that covers so much ground while simultaneously not saying much at all. This is something that I think Smith excelled at in his first few movies, but he never did it better than he did here. So, let's talk about why Clerks works, even when it's characters are slacking off

I think Clerks is great because it's simple. Everything from the monochromatic imagery to the relatively small cast and single setting that it only really leaves once (for one of the most unbearably awkward car journeys I've ever seen) is so effective. Most of this movie is just two guys in a shop. That's pretty much the entire plot. And story-wise, that's why it works. See, Dante and Randall, and all of the other characters have eventful lives with enough going on in them to stretch over a whole narrative. I mean, if we're getting technical, then Dante's ex-girlfriend getting engaged, but returning and kind of still being in love with him is the actual story, no doubt one that lesser films would fill an entire run-time with. But here's the thing: that doesn't matter. The whole ex-getting-married plot is really just miscellaneous information for the first two thirds of the movie, and only really becomes part of the plot when she returns. Until then, it's just another part of Dante's life, another thing that happens alongside rooftop hockey games, undercover gum salesmen, and old men who go into bathrooms to.... you'll see.

I mean Clerks is really just a day in the life of Dante. And everything that happens..... just kind of happens. What makes it so masterful though is the way Smith approaches the story. Clerks is a nonchalant movie. Like his character in the film, Smith is just a casual observer. Even though he's the one telling this story, it never feels like he has any bearing on what happens. It's a huge contrast to uber-stylised directors who have so much control in what happens in the world's they create. No, Smith is just an observer here. Because he's just watching these people, for one day, in one place. So are you, by the way. The events of the plot aren't resolved, because what you're seeing is just a small portion of the larger plot. Does Dante reconcile with Veronica? What happens to Jay and Silent Bob? Does the gum ever come out of the locks? The movie never answers these questions, because that's not what it's there to do. Watching Clerks is like catching a small part of someone's conversation on the street, or in a shop. What you see and hear isn't really your business. You don't know what's come before this, and you're not going to see what comes after. Hell, at the end of the day, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't even matter, not to you anyway

And that's exactly why it matters. Smith is a genius when it comes to stuff like this, because he understands that in real life, big stories are made up of individual days, and although those days aren't particularly eventful, they're made up of smaller stories that stand out. Every joke here is a little anecdote, and through dialogue that sounds like real people talking, these anecdotes start to come to life. Because in real life, people talk about random details in Star Wars, and their exes, and yeah, occasionally something unusual happens (like a strange man inspecting eggs), but for the most part, they just.... talk. Smiths dialogue is great because it doesn't feel like it was written. Yes, it's sharp and witty, but with the general aimless nature of the plot, it just feels like things that these people are saying, and talking about. It's not just great minimalism, it's great observation. It's watching people to see what happens. Ultimately, not a lot does, but it's so identifiable, and real, that by just being relatable, it says so much. Clerks is the reason that Kevin Smith became the voice of a generation. His stories aren't grand tales, they're just bored people standing around and waiting for things to happen. We've all been there, and when Smith combines all of these components, and puts them in a situation that pretty much everyone is familiar with, you get something so very special. Clerks is a treasure because it gets slackers. Yeah, the aimless twenty-somethings who occupy this movie may be of a certain generation, but anyone who's ever sat around, twiddling their thumbs and shooting the shit will be able to relate to some aspect of this, no matter when they were born. And it does that because it's nonchalant, and casual, and says everything without feeling the need to say anything. And you know what? Sometimes that's even more powerful

"I wasn't even supposed to be here today!"

My Love Letter to Harold and Maude

Let's talk about love stories. Cinema has no shortage of tales of romance, and I think everyone has their own favourite. And yeah, though some may groan, the truth is that this is a genre that's as old as storytelling itself. So what I want to do today is celebrate my favourite romantic film, Hal Ashby's wonderfully strange Harold and Maude. Because love, and the movies about it, can be odd, and inexplicable, and I think that's what makes them wonderful. The romantic genre is a fluid one, and within it is a diverse spectrum of stories that can resonate and charm for different reasons, and in different ways. And I think that people respond to the unconventional. Films that operate on a wavelength that is truly unique, and often forces the viewer to shift their preconceptions and see something different. When something can do this, it becomes really special.

So let's set the scene. Harold is a young man who's obsessed with death, constantly staging his own suicide, visiting the funerals of people he doesn't know and driving a hearse around. He's also deeply lonely, living with his status obsessed mother and having to endure a string of arranged dates with various women that he couldn't have less of an interest in. His existence is a strange one, with the people around him constantly trying to make sense of him and analyse him, when really he can't make sense of anything himself.

Enter Maude, a wide eyed 79 year old agent of chaos determined to live her life to the absolute fullest. Playful, joyful and full of wonder, Maude sees every day as a chance to do something different, to be something different, to really get out there and live. She'll casually commit crimes, experiment with various art forms and generally just do things for the sake of doing them. And it's at the funeral of somebody that she didn't know where she meets Harold.

A meet cute as bizarre as that definitely sets the tone for what's to come. Harold and Maude have a variety of misadventures; picnics on scrapheaps, ripping trees out of the pavement and replanting them, fantastic singing sessions and conversations about what it means to live. All the while, Maude is dragging Harold out of that morbid comfort zone that he keeps himself trapped in. Through her, he starts to understand what life is really about, while also giving her a companion to share these wonderful experiences with. Harold begins to become more and more detached from the straight laced world that his mother wants him to live in, coming up with ways to dodge these arranged dates that get increasingly morbid and surreal. Harold opens up to Maude in a way that he's never been able to anyone else in his life, and gradually his eyes start to open, and he begins to realise that quirkiness and spontaneity and new experiences are what life is all about.

And that's what their relationship is all about, too. In a genre that frequently gets criticised for being so shallow and superficial, Harold and Maude is a rom-com that really gets what makes an on screen relationship work. These are two characters who compliment each other, as wildly different as they may seem. She's able to open him up and allow him to escape the upper class oppression of his mother's world, while he's able to give her someone to share her life with. Not that she's particularly lonely, but now she has someone that she can pass all of this wonder and joy on to. The film nails that quirky balance, too. It's never twee for the sake of it. Instead, the quirkiness is used as a point of contrast to the atmosphere that Harold's mother creates for him. The delightful madness of Maude's reality gives Harold somewhere to escape to, and when their relationship comes to an end that's fittingly morbid and hilarious, he makes the choice to stay in Maude's world. It's a moment that resonates so much because their relationship really does impact on the world of the story, a world viewed through Harold's eyes; as his life changes, the film does too, and because the film ends with his life changed for ever, the conclusion makes that much more of an impact, driving the point of the story home in a way that's as gloriously twee as the way it began.

I love Harold and Maude. It's everything that I need from a love story, and it's combination of morbid dark humour and wonderfully quirky insight never fails to cheer me up. Thank you, Hal Ashby.

"I love you. I love you"

"Oh Harold, that's wonderful. Now go and love some more"

My Favourite TV Shows of 2018

Let's conclude this look back at 2018 with a quick gaze at the small screen! 2018 was a good year for TV, and I watched a lot of it. Like an awful lot of it. And while I didn't have a whole list devised, I thought I'd just focus on my absolute favourites from 2018, in no particular order, and just discuss why each of them are great. Same rules as always, if I saw it and liked it, it'll make the list. With that out of the way, let's talk about my favourite shows of 2018!

The Young Offenders

I went in depth on this one before, so check that out if you haven't already. Peter Foott kind of nailed it when he made the original movie. It was funny, sharply written and ridiculously charming. So the idea of making a series may have seemed a little odd. Turns out, there was nothing to fear, because the show was awesome. Any worries about the show just copying the movie were quickly put to bed, with direction shifts that actually really worked, broadening out the narrative and creating strange but hilarious situations for these characters to navigate. The show also kept the same charm as the movie, with a heart that was potent without being sloppy, and a gleeful irreverence that solidified it as one of the best kitchen sink comedies on the air today. The series is just so good natured and likable, and since I talked about it, we've had a Christmas special that was just the cherry on top of an already fantastic show. Long live Conor and Jock

Maniac

How do you even talk about a show like this? Maniac is a work of strange brilliance, not just in what the story is about, but how that's presented to the audience. Ideas of trauma, grief and guilt were discussed in a way that was surreal, but also, often painfully, honest. Emma Stone and Jonah Hill were just magnetic, no matter what simulation they were in, and watching their characters lose and find each other across all of these wonderfully strange narratives was just stunning. Was the genre hopping thing for everyone? Maybe not, but the way that the show used genre to explore it's characters was really impressive for me ans the way this show kept changing and shifting and keeping me guessing was awesome, and. But my favourite thing about Maniac was the message; no matter how alone we may feel, or how consumed we are by chaos, we're never truly alone in the world. Nothing is truly chaotic as long as we have other people, something that really comes through in the arc of Jonah Hill's Owen. And that ending? A powerful and fitting end to a mindblowingly cool miniseries

Derry Girls

Coming out around the same time as The Young Offenders, and possessing a similarly brash irreverence, it's easy to see how Derry Girls could be considered a sister series to Peter Foott's cracking comedy. Yet as much as I love The Young Offenders, this just had an extra dimension that the Cork-set bike theft saga just didn't have. The way the show handles the politics of its setting is impressive and deft, keeping these things largely peripheral, which allows it to just tell a coming of age story, and a damn good one at that. Sharply written and fantastically acted, this is a show that really knows how to find the funny in difficult times, with some of the best dialogue of the year. Seriously, it can't be overstated how funny this show is, but when writing like this is added to a setting like this, you end up with something stunning and impressive

Killing Eve

Killing Eve is the best TV thriller I've seen in years. That may sound like a bold statement, but I just can't remember the last time there's been something this kinetic and fresh. And I think kinetic is a good word for this show. It's always in motion, and can shift between dark comedy and stone cold thrills effortlessly. I think a lot of this comes from Phoebe Waller Bridge, who brings both black humour and a serious edge to this show, again proving that she's one of the most versatile and interesting creators working today. But of course, you can't have a cat and mouse game without the cat and the mouse, and Jodie Comer and Sandra Oh are just sensational as the deadly (yet surprisingly entertaining) assassin and the MI5 agent desperately trying to bring her down. This is one of the best dynamics I've seen in a while. They're on a similar sort of spectrum, both being women who are overlooked or underestimated, but while Eve works hard to overcome this and prove to people that she can bring this killer down, Villainelle uses this to her advantage, blending in and constantly changing identity to always seem like she belongs in a set situation. And the way the show explores both their similarities and differences is just intoxicating, as is the intense obsession that forms between the two. I love these two characters, and I really cannot wait for the second season to continue this twisted game

Flowers

And under the radar gem from 2016 gets a second season that proves to be an under the radar gem from 2018. Flowers is truly something special. If you haven't seen it, it follows a highly dysfunctional family as they navigate trauma, mental illness and tragedy. It is, broadly, a comedy, but it has a knack for really getting under the skin of its characters, with moments that are emotionally raw and genuinely moving. The second season builds on that by really starting to explore ideas of lineage, and inherited issues. It's often a pretty painful watch, but it plays out in a way that's surreal and dreamlike, and almost hypnotising at times. The emotional moments are delicate and genuine, and each of the characters are so fantastically realised, with all of them just feeling so real, with a dynamic that's organic and natural. This is all down to the cast, who are all just superb. Flowers is a gorgeously emotional and deeply strange watch, and the fact that it manages to do this while being so incredibly funny is a testament to Will Sharpe and his incredible writing. Yeah, this show is a truly stunning one that I really would urge you to watch if you haven't

Atlanta

I know I said I wasn't ranking these, but Atlanta's second season is my favourite show of 2018. If the first season was a revelation, this one is a revolution, definitive proof (if we even needed it) that Donald Glover is a creative force of nature. Following up that incredible first run was never going to be easy, but this season (Robbin' Season) somehow did. Every episode feels monumental, like eleven individual epiphanies. Because now moreso than ever, these characters are utterly trapped in their situation. This is something that's even felt in the more lighthearted episodes. Glover exhibits such a fluency and versatility in front of and behind the camera, and it's this that allows him to apply absurdity and poignancy to his razor sharp social observations. Even the barbershop episode is a social comment. This is a show that is truly unique, one in which every chapter mesmerises (that Teddy Perkins episode was the stuff of legend), and every observation resonates. I really can't think of anything else that's like Atlanta. It's a fantastic blend of comedy and drama punctuated by real world horror that's just unbelievable

My Top 10 Least Favourite Films of 2018

I've never written a truly negative post, but that ends today. 2018 was a year of wonderful films, from outstanding indies to awards heavyweights, top shelf blockbusters to awesome surprises. But with the good comes the bad, and 2018 had some truly groanworthy cinema. Christmas may be over, but we've still got a load of turkey to get through. Rules are pretty much the same as my best list, if it came out in Ireland in 2018, then it's eligible. Oh, and this is my opinion. If you like these movies, that's  absolutely fine, I just didn't. Let's get this over with, these are my least favourite movies of 2018!

10. The Nun

I've never had any real interest in The Conjuring movies. I don't know, they just never appealed to me. But at least I kind of get why other people love them. The Nun on the other hand, is as bloated and boring as horror movies get. It's not even an interesting kind of bad. It's just.... bland. It's hard to get invested enough to be actually scared by anything here. There's no particularly frightening ideas, just "AHH! SCARY NUN!". And honestly, it's just kind of boring. The film doesn't even have much of a plot, it's just a typical haunted house movie with a nun. But it's a bad, scary nun, I guess? And yeah, there is a reason for her to be so demonic and scary, but with how shallow the whole thing feels, it's pretty difficult to care about why she's doing this. The horror is even occasionally quite funny, as the film takes itself so seriously that it just kind of goes the other way. And when the comic relief (?) does come in, it's just.... awkward. Like, is a French Canadian really that funny? Even better, is a nun even that scary? No it isn't, and no it isn't. The Nun is bland, shapeless, boring horror that isn't even bad enough to be interesting. But pray for me, because it's only number ten....

9. An Evening With Beverly Luff Linn

Oh man. I wanted to like this one, I really, really did. I love Aubrey Plaza, I love Jemaine Clement, and I love Matt Berry. But this film just didn't come together. At all. It attempts the quirky, deadpan style of Wes Anderson or Yorgos Lanthimos, but doesn't seem to understand how those guys can make it work. The cast, great as they are, don't seem to know what they're doing most of the time. Plaza does her best to be the film's emotional core, and Clement is genuinely quite funny, but Matt Berry is absolutely wasted in this movie, and Craig Robinson is just.... grunting. And that gets old. FAST. Above anything else, nothing feels like it means anything. The quirkiness is just there for the sake of it, it doesn't hide any real pathos, and isn't even especially funny. The frustrating thing is that there's flashes of brilliance, but they're just bogged down by so many, creaky, awkward, confused moments. Again, this is the kind of movie I should like, but it just didn't go anywhere particularly interesting. A love triangle with too many sides becomes a movie with too many issues, and it's a real shame.

8. The Happytime Murders

I suppose the biggest surprise here is that this movie isn't higher. And as a Muppet fanatic, I really should hate this. But the thing is, when you put so much effort into trying to shock and offend, you end up being toothless, and actually kind of sad. Wasted potential? Maybe, but was it ever gonna be good? Like, is anyone surprised that it sucks? The movie acts like it's so crass and so edgy, when all it's doing is just making puppets do "raunchy" things, and failing to understand how to make it actually funny. Putting puppets into adult situations isn't funny on its own. You need something else, but this film just doesn't do that. There's also this really weird, glum kind of cynicism to the whole thing. The film never has fun with itself, because that wouldn't be "gross" and "edgy", not understanding that The Muppets broke ground by being both sly and wholesome. And while anyone can watch The Muppets, this film doesn't seem to know who it's audience is. If you're curious about this one, just revisit The Muppets. They're actually funny, and unlike this movie, their stuff is never going to date. Just like it's cast, this film is mainly fluff, and is a lot softer than it wants to be

7. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom.

Why are we still making these? Was Jurassic Park actually supposed to be a series? It was good first time around, but 25 years and four movies later, we have this flabby, flaccid mess of a movie. We start with a rescue mission that's really hard to care about, and end with a dinosaur auction that's really hard to care about. I'm gonna list every reason I don't care about this, because I've got a few

1- The characters are so bland. Even from the start, none of them are interesting. None of them develop or change, or go beyond being hollow mannequins that don't do much more than give concerned looks over the horizon. The characters feel empty here, nobody had any personality, and as such, I really don't care about them

2- The plot is a mess. The transition between the volcano and the auction is limp and messy, and the way the film just introduces another genetic hybrid because "hey, people liked when we did that last time" is sloppy and lazy

3- The dinosaurs have no presence. Think about the first movie. The mix of CGI and practical effects gave them weight, and impact. They felt like they were there. And as good as the effects are, the dinosaurs, you know, the things we're supposed to really care about, just don't feel like they're actually in the movie. Especially the Indoraptor, the superbeast that drives the conflict of the third act. It's pretty embarrassing that they couldn't do something that was done perfectly 25 years before.

4- The villains suck. Big budget blockbusters are full of bland evil businessmen, and if you can't care about the source of conflict, then you're hardly gonna care about anything else in the plot. Toby Jones looks like he's having fun (I think?), and I actually had to remind myself that Rafe Spall was in this. Which about sums that up

There's definitely more that I hate about this movie, and I've got a lot more to say about this and nostalgia manipulation in general. Maybe some day I'll write a post about that, but for now, just appreciate the irony that this is a film about greedy sellouts exploiting dead things for financial gain

6. A Wrinkle in Time

Oh dear. I didn't want to hate it. Some movies suck because they're lazy, manipulative and hollow, but it's especially painful to watch a film with good intentions be an absolute trainwreck. Ava DuVernay is awesome, one of the most interesting filmmakers at the moment and hearing everything she wanted this film to be kind of makes me feel bad for hating it. But it's an honourable failure, nothing dishonest or malicious about it. And I suppose that's something to be admired, especially when everything is as messy as it is. The cast is talented but given nothing to do, and the film does the impossible: it makes Reese Witherspoon unlikable. The characters are poorly drawn, except for Meg, whose journey of self discovery is muddled and never feels earned. The sentimentality feels forced and stiff, and the film's over-reliance on CGI makes it feel even more artificial and shallow. And that's not what it should have been. I know what DuVernay was trying for, and she's definitely trying to say something important, but the film never quite makes it to where it needs to be. And maybe I'm the wrong target audience for this film, but as someone who loves when a film can show me the world from a different perspective, I was just let down by this. I hope it does find it's audience, and inspire someone, because I just did not like it at all. Sorry, Ava

5. Sierra Burgess is a Loser

Netflix made some great things this year. This film was not one of them. I'm going to be brief about this, because a film this redundant and shallow really deserves a write up that's redundant and shallow, but a film that romanticises catfishing and makes fun of the deaf is not a good film. Shannon Purser seems cool in real life, but plays probably the most unlikable character in a film this year, who I think we're supposed to like? Look, if you want to watch a good Netflix coming of age movie, watch To All the Boys I Loved Before. Because if you watch this movie, the real loser will be you

4. Winchester

Nothing is worse than a horror movie made by someone who doesn't understand horror. Horror isn't just about scares. It's an effective storytelling medium that uses the fear of the characters and danger of their situations to tell a story, and when it's at its best, it finds real emotion in their turmoil, or says something interesting about the world we live in. And maybe that's what a film about Sarah Winchester, the heiress to the gun company, should have been. An expression of guilt and remorse for all of those who died looking down the barrel of the weapons her family made. Alas, we got this. A boring slog of a film filled with cheap scares and forgettable story beats that takes Helen Mirren, of whom I am a big fan, and just kind of wastes her. YOU HAVE AN OSCAR WINNER IN YOUR MOVIE. USE. HER. But no, we get ghost jumpscares, and random, boring backstory, and bland visuals. Mirren looks like she's there for the cheque, the effects team must have been gone to lunch, and nothing is actually scary. I'm going to be completely honest with you too. I'm sitting here writing this, actually struggling to remember what happened in this film. Which isn't something I can say about any of the other movies on this list. It can't even be an interesting kind of bad. Even The Nun, which was also really freaking boring, wasn't this forgettable. At least I can remember what happened in that movie. But this? This is baaaaaaaaaaaad. Even if you're a Dame Helen Mirren completionist like myself, do yourself a favour and skip this

3. Overboard

I think it says a lot that the first of the two remakes on this list lands at number three. Did an Overboard remake need to happen? No. Does the plot of the original work in a modern context? Not really. Was the gender flipping unnecessary? Very much so. Overboard is the kind of movie that thinks it's being fresh and modern and subversive by taking an older movie and updating it. It seems to think that by flipping the script, it's breaking new ground. Which is actually kind of understandable. Romantic comedies are at a really interesting point. Because people are so genre savvy now, clichéd and dated romantic comedy tropes are dying out. People aren't as willing to settle for trash anymore. And that can result in some really great stuff, like Crazy Rich Asians, which makes the romantic comedy interesting by exploring a narrative that we don't see enough of. So I can see what they were trying to do by remaking Overboard. They were trying to take this story and apply it to now, pointing out everything that's a little bit dated, or strange. The problem is that, first of all, the story of Overboard just doesn't work in 2018. And by trying to point out how creepy and dated the whole idea is, it becomes pretty creepy and dated. And that could be ignored if the leads had chemistry, but they don't. They're hollow, and unlikable, and they don't gel together on screen. And in trying to be subversive, the film fails to answer its own question: "can a relationship built on lies work?" And while the film suggests it can, it never quite explains why, so all the genre savviness and subversion just falls through, with no chemistry or charm to fall back on. If you're going to watch any version of this story, go with the 1987 movie. It actually makes it work, where this remake just goes.....

*puts on sunglasses*

Overboard

2. The Cloverfield Paradox

*takes sunglasses off*

Some films are just inexplicably awful. Awful to a mind boggling degree, to the point that they forge their own kind of terrible brilliance. This is one such movie, one that dives so deeply into its own batshit crazy logic that it's just irresistibly bad. I mean, it's really lazy, and the plot is pretty dull, but the stiffness of the actors, and how seriously they take this ridiculous story, makes it a masterpiece of awfulness. Something that actually happens in this movie is that the earth goes missing, and Chris O'Dowd's severed arm finds it. Chris O'Dowd's severed arm finds the earth. Chris O'Dowd's severed arm. Finds. THE. EARTH. This actually happens. From there, it's mind bogglingly bad, with laughably awful dialogue, and things that happen because.... they just.... do.....? And everything in this movie is taken 100% seriously, too. Which makes it even more enjoyably shit. When bad things happen, it's done in a way that's so over the top "ohnoit'sabadthing", and that makes everything all the more silly. Is it so bad it's good? Not quite, but it's so staggeringly awful, that it's kind of fun to watch. But because that definitely wasn't the intention, that's not really a good thing, either. Can Chris O'Dowd's severed arm find me a better film?

1. Death Wish

If you had told me at the start of the year that my least favourite film would have been an Eli Roth remake of Death Wish starring Bruce Willis, I wouldn't have doubted you. If you had told me that it was somehow, somehow, worse than that description makes it seem, I probably wouldn't have believed that. But alas, it's actually worse than it sounds. I've always hated Eli Roth's bizarre fascination with gore and violence. Not that I'm squeamish or anything, but it's just so tasteless. And weirdly, this film, a remake of Death Wish, is too violent. See, violence on screen goes deeper than just content. A filmmaker can put anything on screen if they know what they're doing. It's all in the handling, and Roth's weird sadism and hollow gore just gets tiring after a while. Not to mention this film's perspective on its hero. It thinks it's discussing vigilantism, violence and the lengths we go to pursue justice, but it's just showing us Bruce Willis killing people, and the half heartedly saying "but he's doing it for his family, so it can't be wrong!". Everything in this movie rubs me the wrong way. That scene in the gun shop is just unbearable, completely missing the style and slickness of what it was going for an ending up as a cynical and grim celebration of violence that just feels wrong. Violence on its own isn't cool. Good filmmakers can take violent ideas and shape them into something fantastic. This film doesn't do that. It thinks that putting random bloodshed on-screen, it automatically becomes badass. It doesn't. It just becomes sad. This film is truly awful, and I'm trying to pretend I've never saw it

My Top 10 Favourite Films of 2018

So, it's that time again. The time when we look back on the year gone by, and 2018 was quite the year for cinema. At the time of writing this, I have seen 74 movies that came out in 2018, and so many of them were good. Narrowing it down to ten was really tough, especially because so many of the good films this year have been so different from each other. So, let's finish a year of mad titans, moon landings and megs in style, with my favourite films of 2018!

A few things before we get started. I didn't get around to seeing everything I wanted to this year. So Widows, Suspiria, Faces Places, The Endless, Ghost Stories, Love Simon, The Old Man and the Gun, Wildlife, Shoplifters, Cold War, Overlord, Unsane and Cam all got away from me before the year's end. I'll definitely catch them when I can, and maybe talk about them when I do, but just in case you were wondering why they didn't make the cut, that's why.

Also, this is going on Irish release, so there's a lot that won't be on this list because it hasn't come out here yet. So The Favourite, Vice, If Beale Street Could Talk, Burning, Eighth Grade, Can You Ever Forgive Me?, Mid90s and Mary Queen of Scots won't actually be on this list. That also means that some films I talked about in my 2017 list will also be on this list, which I know is kind of weird, but just think of the write up there as a review of the film, and the write up here as an entry on the list. In the end, I just couldn't leave those movies out, so just keep that in mind when they turn up

Finally, let's have some honourable mentions. It's been a great year, and so many films just about missed the cut.

Bad Times at the El Royale

One of the most fun films that came out this year. Smart, sharp, twisty, genre savvy and genuinely unpredictable, it had me on the edge of my seat the whole time. Drew Goddard followed up Cabin in the Woods with this really cool thriller, and I just loved it

Incredibles 2

I actually think this is better than the first one. It's punchy, dynamic, incredibly (ha) entertaining from first minute to last, and was just an absolute blast to watch. It's Pixar firing on all cylinders to produce another solid entry in their ridiculously impressive canon

Private Life

2018 was a great year for drama, and the movies were pretty good too. Private Life is a wonderfully intimate look at one couple's infertility, and if that sounds like a strange topic, it's treated with such sensitivity and warmth that you get sucked in in the first few minutes. This is a film that hits hard with quiet moments, and Kathryn Hahn and Paul Giamatti's, lived in, authentic chemistry is awesome

American Animals

A great heist/documentary movie that looks at actions and consequences in the most gut wrenching way. This was one of the most interesting films of the year, effortlessly flipping from entertaining to devastating, and that heist scene is just unbelievable. A unique and bold gut punch of a movie

Game Night

This movie is hysterical. Probably the surprise of the year. Game Night got me laughing early on, and kept me laughing throughout. They really don't make studio comedies like this one, and it's just ridiculous amounts of fun. If you haven't seen it, you're in for a treat. One of 2018's funniest gems

A Futile and Stupid Gesture

So, in my review of this, I said it set the bar high for 2018. And the fact that it didn't make the top 10 should be an indication of how great of a year this was. This film is still the perfect balance of melancholy and silliness, and it's an awesome practical joke on the people watching it. It's a biopic unlike any other

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

This was the Coen Brothers on fine form, six unusual but consistently entertaining tales of the old west, with each one being an indication of just how versatile these guys are. All Gold Canyon and The Gal Who Got Rattled are especially fantastic, but every short is solid. Proof that the Coens aren't going away any time soon

And now, my top 10 movies of 2018!

10. Blindspotting

2018 was great year for indie films that came right out of nowhere, and Blindspotting was easily one of the best. This is a raw film, one that takes ideas that are relevant and often difficult to discuss, and presents them with with fluency and sensitivity, resulting in a story that's not just urgent, but also deeply human. It focuses mainly on two guys, but it never loses sight of the bigger issues that affect the society they live in. Gentrification, racism, police brutality and trauma are all discussed with gravity, maturity and sensitivity, and the film never pulls any punches when it does this. It never downplays the weight of these issues, but it's always a slick, flowing watch that's just electric.

Blindspotting starts with a vegan burger and, after a breathless journey of highs and lows, concludes with a stunning, politically charged rap that sees the rage of a nation spil over in a beautiful, terrifying expression of fear and injustice. The leads have a lived in chemistry, and the way that life in this neighborhood is framed is just fantastic. It's a stylised, often unusual journey that's both highly enjoyable and utterly horrifying. Blindspotting is just incredible. It's a blend of tones and ideas that demands your attention, and was easily one of the strongest pieces of social commentary I've seen in a long time

9. A Quiet Place

Blockbuster fatigue found the perfect antidote with this movie, a science fiction horror romp that saw John Krasinski shed his Office reputation and make the freshest big budget film for some time. And yeah, I know not everyone liked it as much as I did, especially not compared to that other horror movie about a family we got in 2018, but that's fine. A Quiet Place took a deceptively simple idea and really found the terror in it, launching high concept horror back into the mainstream in the process. It had pin-drop tension, masterful setups, and a cast of characters that I genuinely found myself invested in from the start, something that unfortunately didn't happen in Hereditary. 

It doesn't waste time explaining everything, instead keeping all storytelling visual, and honestly, that really works here. It replaces dialogue with universal imagery, which allows Krasinski to focus on the simple yet immense tension. By starting with an almost wordless tragedy, he ensures that we know the stakes from the beginning, and so every action in this film feels like it has a legitimate consequence, resulting in an immediate thrill that I feel is kind of lacking from a lot of big budget horror movies. Sometimes, less really is more

8. Sorry to Bother You

2018 was a year of awesome directorial debuts, from Bradley Cooper to Idris Elba, but it was the utterly bonkers beginning to Boots Riley's career that bursts its way onto the list. This movie is absolutely crazy. It starts off as an odd piece of satire, before spiralling into a wild bonanza of corporate mockery. Admittedly, it's not gonna be for everyone, but that insane, piercing surrealism is something that really appeals to me. This is a busy movie, with so much going on, but it's able to stay coherent, even when it goes absolutely mental. Even if the satire is kind of broad, the film is loud and brash enough to still make a serious impact.

This is a film about making statements. From cruel performance art to twisted game shows, people go through some serious shit (sometimes literally) to get their voices heard, and one of the film's big questions is how far people are willing to go to spread a message, which it just does exquisitely. It's a loud, impressive exploration of social and political turbulence, while at the same time being one of the funniest movies of the year. And the jokes here succeed in being both gut bustingly hilarious and deeply provocative. Sorry to Bother You is a frenzied roller coaster of a movie, one that stays fun even as it descends into corporate horror

7. You Were Never Really Here

Violence is something that's often glorified in movies, which is one reason that Lynne Ramsey's bare bones vigilance thriller works so well. It rejects the notion that violence is something to be celebrated, instead finding a simple, bleak horror in acts of brutality. Very little is actually shown to the audience in You Were Never Really Here, because this is a film with little interest in the violence itself. Instead, the meat of the film lies in Joaquin Phoenix's Joe, and his deep psychological scars. With very few words, Phoenix and Ramsey weave a tale of trauma and damage that devastates just as much as it thrills.

It's not an easy watch, but it's a slow, lingering gut punch of a movie that's guaranteed to stay in the memory for a while. There's a quiet devastation in how this film plays out. It's not just a brutal watch, but a deeply haunting psychological study of a broken man, perfectly performed by Joaquin Phoenix and his quiet, muscular stoicism. This is an intense film, one that's impossible to pull your eyes away from. This is a film that transcends those inevitable Taxi Driver comparisons, matching Scorsese's masterwork with powerfully haunting brutality. And that has to stand for something

6. Blackkklansman

So Spike Lee came back this year in a big way, bouncing back from a string of recent disappointments with a state of the nation work of horror that explodes with the rage of a million Mookies. Blackkklansman is a work of rage. It's a film that demands that America look at its own political turbulence, using it's period setting to deliver a sobering message: nothing has changed. Blackkklansman isn't a stunner just because of its political commentary. It's one of the year's best because it sees a master of provocation at the top of his game for the first time in ages. It's a reminder that subtlety can only take you so far, and nobody does that better than Spike Lee

Because in a time when everyone has such strong opinions on everything, social comments like this need to be loud. They need to shout everything that's wrong with society into its face, and this movie definitely does. It's a jaw dropping wake up call of a film that just hits so hard. It's also hilarious, delivering some if the most scathing laughs of the year that tear into society's shortcomings and try to hope that people learn from their mistakes. Films this loud only come once in a while. And it definitely pays to listen

5. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Yes. I like it. Even now that the awards buzz has died down and everyone kind of turned against it. I still love this movie just as much as I did back in January. It's still a razor sharp tale of justice and rage, one that refuses to play anything simple, and has a kind of ragged compassion to it that Martin McDonagh's other stuff just doesn't. As I said when I reviewed it first, McDonagh asks some seriously tough questions, but he never pretends to have any of the answers. Nobody in it is actually right, not all of the time anyway, and the characters trade expressions of grief and rage that all too often threaten to explode into hate and violence. But McDonagh never quite crosses that line. He never makes this a movie about hate. Even Mildred is allowed to be wrong here. And speaking of, those performances. A guilty, enraged and sympathetic Frances McDormand. A vindictive and lunkheaded Sam Rockwell. A beleaguered but determined Woody Harrelson. These three leads are nothing short of stunning, spitting fire in the form of McDonagh's best script; acidic and darkly funny, but tinged with a deep sadness and regret. For all of its grit and bravado, Three Billboards is a movie about grief, and guilt, and the possibility of redemption. Simply put, it's McDonagh's best film, compassionate, poignant and scathingly funny. Even time and hate can't quite extinguish the fire that McDonagh lit at the start of this year. And I say let it burn

4. Phantom Thread

PT Anderson is a true treasure. From porn to pudding, oil empires to falling frogs, and every cult and detective in between, this guy is one of the masters of modern cinema, and his latest is a work of true beauty. Phantom Thread is hauntingly brilliant, a dark love story that drifts along with an almost otherworldly feel, and an exquisite swansong for Daniel Day Lewis, who is just fantastic as Reynolds Woodcock, an ultra specific tailor who finds his very controlled world twisted and distorted by the strangest of forces: love. But like in Punch Drunk Love, this is love as a force of chaos, a strange power that brings equal amounts of beauty and instability. And there is a kind of otherworldliness to Phantom Thread, an eerie feeling of a world being tilted by strange forces, and the way that PTA brings theses forces to life is just beautiful. It's a film that often hinges on fantasy, and yet stays just about rooted in reality, unafraid to let the extraordinary leak in

And the strange, nearly supernatural quality extends to the performances. Daniel Day Lewis is sublime as Woodcock, haunted by his mother's death and challenged by the arrival of love, a force that's out of his control. Day Lewis brings a real edge to the role in the way that only he can, balancing quiet passion with an inflexible dedication to order, and it's truly fascinating to watch him unravel as the plot progresses. Vicky Krieps is equally fantastic as Alma, whose arrival brings with it beautiful chaos. She becomes Reynolds' muse, but also his rival, and the way that their relationship is explored, especially near the end, is pitch perfect. Offsetting these two is the incredible Leslie Manville, playing Reynolds' sister Cyril, an absolute force of nature who provides a point of contrast to Alma; Cyril seeks to maintain Reynolds' sense of order as Alma gradually starts to shift it. The result is screen magic, a darkly funny story of the instability of love that just about flirts with the magical. For Daniel Day Lewis, it was one hell of a note to go out on

3. Leave No Trace

Probably the most minimalist film on this list, Leave No Trace is bare bones cinema, no big moments, flashy effects, or even much of a plot. And yet it's utterly incredible. Essentially it's the story of a father and daughter living off the grid, constantly moving from place to place, who have to negotiate accomodation after being found in a public park. And that's kind of it. The drama here reveals itself in quiet ways, in gestures and looks rather than dialogue. The film is great at leaving the most important things unsaid, at communicating through the storytelling cues that lie in the behaviour of the characters. The reason that they can't settle down is utterly heartbreaking, yet it's never something that the film makes a big deal out of. Because it doesn't have to. Debra Granik is someone who understands the value of organic cinema, and she allows the situations to tell the story, essentially just letting the lives of these characters to play out on screen. The result is something that doesn't even feel like a film, so natural and realistic in its approach to some really heavy subject matter that it becomes one of the year's most important movies, a story of people who are unable to adjust to modern society through no fault of their own.

This is something that's amplified by two incredible lead performances. Ben Foster is superb as a man haunted by trauma, and unable to stay in one place for too long. But it's Thomasin McKenzie who steals the movie, giving one of the best performances of the year, a completely organic portrayal of someone who's lived their whole life off-grid. She creates this really quiet sympathy through small gestures and dialogue that doesn't even feel like it was written. Like the rest of the film, the brilliance of her performance lies in what remains unsaid, and it's her that carries the movie to it's understated, gut wrenching ending. Leave No Trace is absolutely stunning. It replaces massive outpourings of emotion with a series of quiet communications that are so damn effective. Nothing is told to the audience in this film, with most of the story lying in the realities of the situation these characters are in. In a summer of grand blockbusters, it was Leave No Trace that really impressed. A minimalist treat that's not to be missed

2. Roma

One of the best things a movie can do for me is take me to unfamiliar times and places. I'm always looking to broaden my horizons as a movie fan, and so I really cherish stories that can take me out of that zone of familiarity. There's nothing in Roma that I can identify with. The setting, the time period, the characters, none of it is familiar to me. And yet Alfonso Cuaron is so good at telling such a personal story in a way that's just so universal. For such an intimate film, Roma really does feel epic. It's a small story against a huge backdrop; a Mexico that's rapidly changing and shifting. It's not a political film by any means, but Cuaron excels at keeping the viewer aware of what's going on. The sense of time and place in Roma is so strong, but it always feels like part of the atmosphere. It's peripheral, but it's always apparent, and the fantastic bookended shots of planes do a great job at implying something beyond the film's scope. And that sense of hope is all over Roma. Cleo always seems to be looking forward. Even when her life and the country she lives in are in uncertain circumstances, she stays optimistic. And through Yalitza Aparicio's monumental performance, we're guided through her world.

And there are so many individual moments here that are just incredible. Cuaron is so good at getting the audience invested in the small moments, so when he ups the scale in the hospital and ocean scenes, it's heart in mouth stuff. That hospital scene in particular is just devastating. Like Leave No Trace, Roma says so much without really saying anything at all. And again, it doesn't feel like a film. For the most part, it just feels like watching a family, with most of the plot playing out in the background. But I think the most impressive thing about Roma is how utterly timeless it feels. Even though it is set in a very specific time period, Roma is a story that anyone can watch and understand, and it has a real power that I don't see diminishing any time soon. Roma is a true cinematic event; a achingly human study of life that demands to be seen.

1. The Shape of Water

I suppose one reason I chose to include the movies I talked about before is that time has passed. Bear in mind, I talked about this one before it won the Oscar, and having seen it two more times now, I'm fairly confident in saying that this film is a masterpiece. The Shape of Water is Guillermo del Toro's best in ages. I was ecstatic when it won best picture, because it's really something stunning. To see the Academy recognise a film like this is truly something special. And yet, even the prestige and the attention can't diminish the simple, often very quiet passion that's all over this film. What makes the movie special is the intimacy of it all, the way that it puts the viewer in Eliza's world, letting them feel everything she feels. As a result, the peril feels more real but the romance is even sweeter. The way del Toro presents love as an escape from an uncaring society is deft and effective. The prejudice is strong but love is stronger, and the fairy tale values of del Toro's best work is on full display. The result is a film that's singular in its romantic vision, but all the more potent because of it. I love everything about this movie. It's a labour of love from one of cinema's most passionate masters, a blend of classic cinema and modern values that pulses with a love that's almost too strong to put into words. This film is an absolute masterpiece, and it's my favourite film of 2018

Top 25 Movies I'm Excited For in 2019

So while I'm busy working on my 2018 lists, I thought I'd share some of the movies I'm excited for in 2019. Just gonna run through these really quickly, so this is just going to be pure list. Quick note: this is going by Irish release date, so keep that in mind.

25. Godzilla: King of Monsters
24. The Curse of La Llorona
23. The Rhythm Section
22. The Front Runner
21. The Umbrella Academy
20. Missing Link
19. Ad Astra
18. Where'd You Go, Bernadette?
17. Mary Queen of Scots
16. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
15. The Kindergarten Teacher
14. Hellboy
13. Eighth Grade
12. Knives Out
11. Burning
10. The Kitchen
9. The Irishman
8. Destroyer
7. If Beale Street Could Talk
6. Star Wars Episode IX
5. The Favourite
4. Captain Marvel
3. Jojo Rabbit
2. Velvet Buzzsaw
1. Us

My 12 Favourite Movies (2 Year Anniversary Special)

So, I've mentioned once or twice that if i ever talked about my favourites, I'd save it for a special occasion. And this seems like as good a time as any, so why not celebrate two years by rhyming off twelve of my favourite films?

This was also incredibly difficult. I love movies. A lot. My full favourites list is in the triple digits, and my list of honourable mentions for this is insanely long. That said, I was just about able to narrow it down to twelve. And even though I have decided to rank them, it's worth noting that the ranking is loose and incidental, especially as we get into the top three, which are pretty much tied as my favourite movie. These twelve aren't the all time greatest films, but they are the ones that I find myself coming back to again and again.

Also I decided to make a rule. One film per director. Not just for variety's sake, but also because I want to celebrate some of my favourite filmmakers and what I think is their best film. I also wanted to try to differentiate "greatest" from "favourite". I think that if something is one of the greatest, you admire and respect it as a piece of work and acknowledge its place in the pantheon. But I think favourites go a little bit deeper. These are films that resonate with me personally, and are also just the ones that I love watching and discussing the most.

And hey, if you like to share some of your own favourites, feel free! I'd love to hear them!

So, without further ado, let's get this party started!

12. Young Frankenstein

So I've gone in depth about why this is my favourite comedy before, and that's still something I stand by. Young Frankenstein is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Mel Brooks was always the master of the spoof, and I think that this is definitely his finest. He nails the look and feel of a Universal monster movie, and then proceeds to take the piss out of them for an hour and a half. The passion and work gone into recreating the style it's mocking definitely makes the parody that much stronger. And then there's Gene Wilder's masterful script. Easily one of the most quotable films ever. It's so ridiculous and yet it never gets lost in it's own silliness. It stays within the style it's parodying, to the point where it ends up feeling like a old horror movie that went wrong somewhere, and ended up being incredibly silly. Because the style and atmosphere are what make it. We believe the spoof because the movie believes the spoof. It never takes us out of the illusion, instead bringing us into a world of laughs that's often been repeated, but has never been replicated.

And the cast is perfect. From Gene Wilder's apprehensive, but completely insane Dr. Froncenstein, to Marty Feldman's lunatic assistant Igor, and absolutely everyone in between, this is a great ensemble. Terri Garr, Cloris Leachman, Peter Boyle, Madeline Khan, Gene Hackman, everyone is fantastic. Every performance gets a laugh in this movie, but I really can't overstate how good the dynamic between Wilder and Feldman is. I crack up every time these guys are on screen together, and it's their interaction that I find myself quoting the most.

As a comedy nut, I'm kind of always in awe of how good Young Frankenstein is. I've seen it so many times now, and I actually think it gets funnier every time. Every joke is a stone cold classic here, and it's just such an enjoyable watch. It's also not as crass as other Mel Brooks films. Don't get me wrong, I love how vicious The Producers is, and how vulgar Blazing Saddles is, and I am a huge fan of his style anyway. But Young Frankenstein is just such a gleefully ridiculous film, and I just really love it. There's nothing satirical about it. It's just there to have a laugh, and sometimes, there's nothing better than that.

11. Boogie Nights

I'm a huge PT Anderson fan, and I could have picked any of his films for this slot. There Will Be Blood is a true epic, Magnolia is an operatic and passionate drama, Inherent Vice is a gloriously trippy mystery tale and Punch Drunk Love is one of the most beautifully unusual love stories I've seen in some time. But I think that Boogie Nights is just a little bit better than the others. If there was ever a movie that defied its premise, this is it. "Chronicle of the porn industry in the 70s and 80s" doesn't sound like the best concept for a film, but PTA takes this idea and transforms it into something really special. Especially because of the cast. Burt Reynolds, Julianne Moore, Don Cheadle, Luis Guzman, Heather Graham, John C Reilly, Philip Seymour Hoffman, William H Macy, Alfred Molina and a never better Mark Wahlberg all absolutely wow. I think that everyone can relate to at least one character in this film, or at the very least feel for them. Everyone just feels so real in this movie, and watching their successes and struggles is just such a wonderful experience.

Boogie Nights is such a busy film as well. There's so much going on throughout the whole thing, and there are so many rewards to be had on a rewatch. There's always something happening in the film, and there isn't a single frame of it that's wasted. It's a fantastic rollercoaster ride of a film, and it goes through all of these times and emotions effortlessly. It bounds breathlessly through two decades  as it follows it's fantastic ensemble cast through successes and failures, epic highs and crushing lows. It's tender, thrilling, disturbing, upsetting, hilarious, moving and absolutely exhilarating, and by the end of it, you really feel like you've witnessed something truly special. And I think that that's something that I'm naturally drawn to. Movies that fuse together different tones, emotions and ideas to create a dynamic and enthralling experience. Boogie Nights never stays in one place for very long. It always shifts or fluctuates in some way, and it's this epic tapestry of moods and ideas that I just adore.

Above anything else though, I think that Boogie Nights is about change. Whether it be the industry, the people in it, or the society they're a part of, everything in the film goes through some kind of shift. It's so fascinating to watch how everyone in this film changes over time, and how the world of the film itself changes over time. The way PTA brings you through the world of Boogie Nights feels very seamless and flowing, and watching how it progresses over time will never fail to utterly captivate me. It's like a living thing, growing and changing in front of your eyes, and that's just cool.

10. It Happened One Night

So, it's November. I gotta talk about It Happened One Night. I don't know why, but for some reason I talk about this one every November. And every November, it gets a little bit more awesome. Because this one is outstanding. It was the first film I ever talked about on this blog, so it's always been a favourite around here, but even beyond that, it's just so wonderful. Every romantic comedy you've ever seen has borrowed something from It Happened One Night, but I don't think that any of them have come close to being as good as it.

Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert are just fantastic here. They've got amazing comedic chemistry, but are also such a believable couple too, and they never fail to charm throughout. The script is truly wonderful. It's tender, but it's never mushy, and stops any over-sentimentality with an incredibly acidic wit. The quips come quick in It Happened One Night, and the sarcasm is absolutely razor sharp, but these aspects never take away from the film's heart. It nails the sweet/funny balance, and when it starts to weave these things together as it goes on, it gets even better. Especially when the characters start to use their sarcasm to hide how they really feel, which gives every one liner a really lovely edge. As these characters fall in love with each other, you start to fall in love with them too. You laugh at them, believe in them and root for them as they get closer to their hard fought for happy ending. It Happened One Night is a stunning film. I always come back to it, and I think I always will.

9. Fargo

So, the Coens. I love these guys, and almost everything that they do is fantastic. I've got a long list of favourite Coen Brothers films, but I'd be lying if I said it was difficult to pick a favourite. Fargo is simply brilliant. Why? Because it gave us Marge Gunderson. And yeah, there's a lot of other good stuff here too, like the outstanding direction, beautifully dark comic script, eye popping cinematography, phenomenal score and great supporting performances, but for me, Margie is Fargo. She's what makes it a masterpiece. She's what I think of when I think of great movie heroes. Because she's what a hero should be. When everyone around her is consumed by greed, Margie relies on her simple values and honesty to combat injustice.

And that's what this is. It's a parable about the dangers of greed. Margie's not a hero because she's some great action hero, or some badass fighter. She's just doing her job. She knows the difference between right and wrong in a time and place where that seems to be so difficult for some people, and she just can't understand why someone couldn't just settle for the things they do have instead of spilling blood over something like money. In a world that's so seedy, and nasty, and corrupt, Margie is the sole source of goodness in this film, and there are few heroes I root for more. And through her goodness and earnestness, she's forges her own kind of badassery. Under the smile and warm demeanor, Margie is one hell of a detective, and she's no fool when it comes to tracking these guys down. Frances McDormand got the Oscar for this, and rightly so. She turns what could have been a caricature into a fully fledged and absolutely wonderful hero.

Over the course of this gorgeous slow burner, we see Margie gradually work her way towards these guys who think that they're ten steps ahead. This is a film that's firmly rooted in the ideas of right and wrong, and it's one of the absolute best explorations of morality I've ever seen. When Margie tells Gaear that she'll never understand why people do these things, it's done so that we know exactly how she feels. Fargo is a good, honest movie about a good honest woman, who brings her own brand of heroism to the pantheon. And the result is glorious.

8. Amélie

Speaking of remarkable women. There just isn't anything else like Amélie. I can't think of any film that's this wonderful. Amélie is a film that makes me happy just by thinking about it. Just the idea of spending 90 minutes in this woman's world is enough to make me grin like an idiot. Like Fargo, Amélie is a film about simple ideas. In this case, it's about how the little things that you do can change and improve the lives of the people around you. This is an aggressively positive film, one that goes out of its way to see the good in everything. Even though it doesn't wrap everything up neatly, it remains so adamant in its belief of human goodness that if you don't feel even a little bit better watching it, you may well be dead inside. Jean Pierre Jeunet has created such a beautiful vision of Paris in Amélie. Paris in Amélie is a place of wonder, and joy, and Jenunet's ability to find magic in the simple moments makes Amélie the closest thing you'll find to a real world fairly tale.

And Audrey Tatou. Oh my god, this woman. She is perfect in this. She sells the joyful exploits of this lovable weirdo fantastically. Amélie herself is such a glorious oddball, but it's her determination to fix the lives of everyone she crosses paths with that makes her such an incredible character. Amélie will make the world a better place, and there's nothing that can stand in her way. She's so dedicated in her vocation to help people, and the world through her eyes is so wonderful and wholesome. Not that there's no conflict in the film, but it becomes clear pretty quickly that there's nothing that Amélie can't overcome. In Amélie's world, there's nothing that can't be solved with a little bit of mischief, and you get the sense that no matter what happens, everything will work out.

Amélie is the ultimate comfort movie. It's gloriously quirky, and it weaves that into its relentless optimism. It's really like nothing else I've seen, and there's a beauty to how cheerful the whole thing is. It's a film that finds such joy in the small things, and expresses that joy so wonderfully aggressively that it's hard not to walk out of it feeling even a little bit better. Every component works here. Every single character serves a purpose, no matter how small their role is. And even the smallest pieces of information make for the most wonderful story beats, which give the film an air of true wonder. And that's what this is. It's a wonderful film. It deals with ideas of wonder in a wonderful world seen through the eyes of a wonderful woman, and that's just wonderful. Amélie is pure joy in movie form, and it just makes me smile every time I think about it.

7. The Royal Tenenbaums

Wes Anderson is a quirky wizard. His films are like living paintings, and I love them all. But The Royal Tenenbaums just struck a chord with me the first time I watched it, and that love really hasn't gone away. This film is like a machine. It's made of so many smaller individual pieces, and each one does its job perfectly. Everything here works. Everyone in this ensemble is fantastic. And nothing feels wasted. There isn't a single line of dialogue that could be cut here. Not even a single frame. There are so many deliciously offbeat moments in The Royal Tenenbaums, as well as so many moments of genuine melancholy. Rather than try to distract from this with quirky shenanigans, Anderson uses the film's style to explore the genuine emotional and psychological damage of his characters, and the result is sublime. This is a film that never shies away from the dark underpinnings of its story, but frames them in a way that's so niche and stylised that it's just incredible. True, Anderson does that in most (if not all) of his films too, but this film is especially deft in its handling of this stuff, and there's a beautifully unusual magic to it.

And then of course, there's the cast. Where the hell do I even begin? Angelica Huston, Ben Stiller, Gwyneth Paltrow, Owen Wilson, Luke Wilson, Bill Murray, Danny Glover, everyone is absolutely fantastic here, playing an assortment of dysfunctional people awkwardly navigating through the quirky chaos. Generating this chaos though, is the irreplaceable, incredible and just indelible Gene Hackman. This guy is outstanding. Here, he's Royal Tenenbaum himself, a old bastard who kicks off the plot by reconnecting with his family. Trouble is, the only way he knows how to do anything is by lying, cheating and swindling, and so things don't exactly go to plan. What I really love is that it's obvious that his heart is in the right place. He's doing this for the right reasons. But the fact that he can't do this any other way makes him such a treat to watch. And Hackman throws everything he has into this character. By the end of the film, you get a real sense of his character and the ways that he's changed. And the ways that he really, really hasn't. He's an absolute treasure.

The Royal Tenenbaums is a strange movie about strange people, but that's why it works. It never gets lost in its own quirkiness, instead staying very focused on the deep dysfunction that runs through the story. Which isn't to say that it bogs itself down with this either, because it balances genuinely emotional and sometimes disturbing story beats with some truly hilarious dialogue. Everything here is so specific. There isn't a hair out of place, and it's this uber precise approach to this kind of story that makes The Royal Tenenbaums work. It's a fantastic film about a dysfunctional family, but it never trivialises their issues, even when it does play them for laughs. They're just messed up people living in a quirky world where family isn't a word. It's a sentence.

6. Princess Mononoke

Studio Ghibli make some of the most gorgeous pieces of art that you're likely to see. It's pretty hard not to love these guys, actually. Their back catalogue is stuffed with gems, and there are a lot of Ghibli films that I could have picked for this slot. Spirited Away, Kiki's Delivery Service, Grave of the Fireflies, Whisper of the Heart, Arietty, Laputa: Castle in the Sky and My Neighbour Totoro are all films that I really love, but I always come back to Princess Mononoke. This film is just stunning. I mean, just look at the thing. Everything in this film is just beautiful to look at. And coupled with Joe Hishahi's truly mesmerising score, it's just unbelievably gorgeous. It's also one of Ghibli's bigger films. The scope of this one is huge, and the atmosphere is absolutely epic.

But like the best of Ghibli, what makes Mononoke work is the way it handles its moral. It's primarily a cautionary tale, but not a preachy one. Its not about how humans are destroying the environment (although they kind of are), it's about conflict, and more specifically how in times of conflict, nobody wins. This is an idea that Hayao Miyazaki has a very acute understanding of, and something that he urges Ashitaka, and the audience, to be mindful of. Nobody is really in the right here, and the closer they get to all out war, the closer they move towards total destruction. And when you put a hero in that situation who knows that he's going to have to do the right thing in a situation like this, you get a truly dynamite piece of filmmaking.

Mononoke also has two of Ghibli's most fully realised characters. The first is Ashitaka, who I just touched on as being a really wonderful hero, a guy in a situation he didn't ask to be in who now has to navigate the repercussions of this conflict in a time where he doesn't even know what the right thing is. But the second, and one of my favourite movie characters ever, is Lady Eboshi. In any other movie like this, she'd be the villain. She'd be a heartless bastard, tearing down the forest for her own gain. But Eboshi is far from heartless. Yes, she does some terrible things, but everything she does, she does for her village. She's a great character because she's a great leader, stepping up in a time of discord to do what's right for people who would otherwise be completely ignored. She fights for the women, and the lepers, and the people in her society who are completely marginalised. And even when faced with actual gods, Eboshi stands tall. She will fight for her village, no matter what. And yet, even by the end, she learns that maybe not everything she was doing was right, but resolves to build a better village, and even a better future.

Princess Mononoke is phenomenal. It's a beautiful, passionate fantasy tale about how our own tendencies of war and hate will destroy us. And when it does this, it never pretends to have all of the answers. Miyazaki never suggests a concrete solution that will end all conflict forever. Instead, he advocates communication. Not as a definite solution, but as a catalyst to productive action, and maybe even peace. And the fact that a film with talking wolves can cram all of that into its story has to stand for something. Princess Mononoke is utterly marvellous.

5. Brazil

Terry Gilliam is one of cinema's greatest madmen. There really isn't anybody else like him, and each of his films, good or bad, are monuments to his crazy genius. Brazil is the ultimate work of cinematic insanity. I mean, it's a dystopian science fiction Christmas film about a totalitarian government with neo noir overtones strong social commentary, a dark sense of humour and incredibly surreal imagery, and it's all the more glorious for that. Brazil is mindblowingly batshit, but it's also one of Gilliam's finest pieces of work. Like the best science fiction, Brazil is very allegorical, and the observations made about society, security, bureaucracy and heroism are more relevant now then they were in 1985. Jonathan Pryce's Sam Lowry isn't a hero. He's an insignificant cog in the wheel, and even though he uncovers this great conspiracy, he hardly matters enough do be able to do anything about it. Especially when he's in a world of pen pushers who can't breathe without filling in a form, and where the greatest threat to society is an unregistered plumber. You get the sense that Gilliam was pissed when he was writing Brazil. This is an attack on so many things, and the satire is just really gorgeous. I love sharp social commentary anyway, and they don't get much sharper than Brazil.

And then there's the dreams. In a world that's so oppressive and monotonous, Lowry lives in his dreams. And these scenes are just so cool. They're gorgeous to look at, and give Gilliam the chance to go wild with his imagery. Not that he tones that down much in the real world. Brazil has fun with itself. Yes, it's a really fantastic piece of satire, and it's incredibly nihilistic, but it revels in its own craziness, and enjoys it's own insanity. It's beyond fun to watch every little oddity in this film. You could watch it on mute and you'd still have a blast, because it's just so much fun to look at.

Brazil is one of the most fantastic pieces of chaos ever put to screen. The fact that it actually exists (and it very nearly didn't), still floors me. This is Gilliam's brain wrestling its way onto the screen, and exploding into a chaotic mockery of modern society. Gilliam has something to say here, and he's going to say it. What stops Brazil from being pretentious or self indulgent though, is that madness. It's that frantic energy that keeps it grounded. Gilliam never takes the story too seriously. Yes, he does have something to say, but he doesn't act like he's the one with the last word on this. Instead, he just expresses his own exasperation, and has a great time doing it. And when this utterly insane whirlwind of a film crashes down into that ending, it's just unbelievable. Nihilism has never been more fun.

4. Taxi Driver

One thing I love about film is it's specificity. That ability to transport s viewer to a specific time, place, or even a state of mind. Taxi Driver is one of the most beautifully disturbing films ever made. It's not set in New York, but a version of the city viewed from the eyes of a deeply disturbed man. And as Travis' psyche starts to seep into the narrative, Taxi Driver becomes a horrifically surreal nightmare. And yet, it's utterly impossible to look away from. It's not an easy watch, but there's a sinister magnetism to Taxi Driver. It draws you in gradually, until you're absolutely absorbed by the nightmarish world that Paul Schrader and Martin Scorsese so deftly created.

I just love the look and feel of it. This is New York, not as some glorious haven, but as a filthy, neon soaked cesspit, and this is an aesthetic that the film nails perfectly. Bernard Herrman's score is also a big plus. His jazzy composition practically drips off the screen, and gives so much to the hellish atmosphere of the film. Scorsese's direction is magnificent, gradually gliding through the terrifying world of Travis Bickle. The script is quite possibly Schrader's best, with so many single lines being so hauntingly profound and yet so strangely funny. De Niro is the best he's ever been, positively disappearing into his role as Bickle, and absolutely selling his descent into madness. When these aspects combine, you end up with one of the most marvellous depictions of hell on film.

And that's what Taxi Driver is to me. It's one of those movies that lets me look at something awful without actually having to experience it. It's that weird kind of voyeurism, where you're watching a world so far removed from your own, and even though it's petrifying, you also can't stop watching it. Obviously the content here is audacious, and it is shocking, but the film captures these aspects and displays them in a way that's truly captivating. I love this movie because watching it is like looking into a very contained evil, a very specific horror that lesser films could only dream of. It peers into the dark side of humanity, and allows viewers to enter the mind of someone who is disturbed, haunted, and unstable. Of course, it's just a movie, and you'll walk out of it and that visceral horror will wear off. But you'll also never forget it. The evil of Taxi Driver is something that lingers long after the credits roll. And that's the brilliance of Scorsese's opus. He orchestrates this maniacal symphony of sin, dragging the audience along with him. Movies allow you to see some truly incredible things. Not all of them are pleasant, but sometimes it's these dark voyages that we need to take most. Taxi Driver is cinema at its most sinister, but it's also a strange kind of beauty that hasn't really been repeated. And you know what? I'm kind of okay with that. They perfected it first time around.

3. Seven Samurai

As I said, I did try to draw a line between greatest and favourite. There are films that I greatly admire and do think are some of the best films ever, but I tried to specifically fill this list with the movies that have resonated deepest with me over the years. That said, Seven Samurai isn't just one of the greatest films ever, but one that's made an indelible impression on me ever since saw it. Kurosawa was very good at balancing the big and the small. The huge, impressive scale and the very simple ideas. And I think Seven Samurai just nails that. First of all, it's fairly hard to deny the impact this film has had on cinema, especially the action genre. I tend to avoid talking about the technical aspects of filmmaking here because that generally isn't why I watch films, but it's impossible to talk about this movie without talking about how fantastically made it is. For it's time, and even now, everything here is just unbelievable. Every frame is just a work of art. Every camera angle, every editing touch, every subtle placement of the camera is telling a part of the story without making it obvious that that's what it's doing. Every action movie you've ever seen has borrowed a little something from this, and for good reason. It's just a technical marvel.

But that's not why it's one of my all time favourites. These twelve films are very different from each other, but it's only when I sat down and complied the list that I noticed a common thread between so many of them. I'm fascinated with movie heroes. Characters that fight for good, characters that we as an audience root for, and maybe even identify with. Seven Samurai is, in essence, a film about what exactly makes a hero. Each of the seven are a variation of a heroic archetype, and the film explores different aspects of heroic obligation through each of them. You don't just root for the samurai, you come to understand them. Who they are, why they fight, what drives them. And as they go out of their way to defend this village, you see Kurosawa's portrait of what it means to be a hero on full display. But by the end of it, for all of their bravado and heroism, did any of it actually mean anything? That's a big question, and it's one that Kurosawa doesn't actually answer, but that's what makes this film such a stunning portrait of what it means to do the right thing. You're left to decide whether or not it was actually worth it. And it's that sudden pang of doubt that makes this such a powerful ending.

The attitude towards heroism in this film is perfectly summed up in Kikuchiyo. Here's a guy that starts as a nuisance, a wanderer, a fake samurai. He's loud, he's flashy, and he's not the brightest. His sword is way too big for him and he carries a stolen family tree. And as the plot goes on, key revelations shape his true character, so by the end of it, he's become a hero. He's become the hero. He's proves himself as not just a defender, but also a legend. Toshiro Mifune kills as Kikuchiyo, too. He sells this arc through moments of sheer madness, and he's often absolutely hilarious. And yet, by the end, you believe he's changed. You buy his arc. In Kikuchiyo, Kurosawa gave us the ultimate hero's journey. And the film is all the better for it.

And at the time of writing this, Seven Samurai has been voted as the greatest foreign language film of all time by the BBC. And that's hard to disagree with. It's one of the greatest films ever made. But what I always go back to is that discussion on what makes a hero. We could sit here and talk about mechanics all day long, but I love this movie because it's a beautiful portrait of what actually makes a hero. Why do heroes do the right thing? Do we even need them? I'm always obsessed by how the protagonist's journey is handled in a film, and how their idea of heroism informs the story, and I think Seven Samurai does this in a way that's not just utterly epic, but also incredibly specific. It's small, it's intimate, it's human. The action and the scale are massive, but the ideas themselves aren't. They're simple enough, but man they're effective. This is everything I love about heroes in one film. And it's truly magnificent.

2. Pan's Labyrinth

Pan's Labyrinth is one of the most devastating things I've ever seen. Guillermo del Toro is a genius. I'll watch pretty much anything this man makes, because he's one of the most passionate people in the industry. And when you watch a Guillermo del Toro film, you can definitely feel how much he cares, how much love and passion he's put into it. I think that this is something that goes a long way into making Pan's Labyrinth so gut wrenching. This is everything that del Toro cares about when it comes to storytelling. He's got a keen understanding of the fairytale, and why it works, and why it's these stories that people keep coming back to, to the point that he ends up making a modern fable himself, and it's just stunning.

I mean, where the hell do I even begin with this movie? Everything about it is pretty much perfect. I guess I could start by talking about how Guillermo del Toro uses the fantasy genre. This is a genre usually used for stories of escapism, and as dark as can get (check out the Brothers Grimm if you're in any doubt about that), there's also an optimism to it most of the time. I think a lot of this stems from the fable. The moral tale, where everything will be okay if you just do the right thing. Where morality is usually pretty black and white. Del Toro blurs the line here, taking fairytale logic and applying it to the absolute horror of war. And when you take something that's relatively simple and fuse it with something chaotic and hellish, strange magic starts to happen, but del Toro absolutely knows how to control it. This is a story where escapism is impossible. Where the fantasy world that Ofelia escapes to is just as bad as the real world horrors that she escapes from. And the way that del Toro mirrors the civil war setting in the fantasy world is just fascinating. As the film descends further and further into darkness, the tasks get more morally dubious. The monsters get stranger, and scarier. And yet nothing is more horrifying that what's above the surface. The relationship between monsters and men is something that del Toro explores often, but never better than here, where for all of the beasts and creatures, the real horror is the hate and violence going on in the real world. And the result is soul shattering.

But what really affects me in this film is the contrast. The dissonance between innocence and horror. The way del Toro allows the darkness to bleed into the real world, while still having moments of real tenderness to cut the bleakness. Even when the horror is cranked up to eleven, del Toro never forgets the quiet humanity in the story. And that's something that just really destroys me. I actually have a lot of movies that destroy me emotionally, but Pan's Labyrinth is one that's just particularly devastating. It's a beautifully crafted slice of tragedy, and for all of its melancholy, it's one that I've seen way more times than I probably should have. And each time, it absolutely wrecks me. Because it's just so wonderfully crafted. It's a parable of the dangers of hate and violence, and how these things can so often feel inescapable. I'm not going to lie, it's a rough watch, but there's an incredible beauty to del Toro's masterpiece. This is del Toro at his absolute best, telling a tale of innocence lost in a way that's just relentless in its tragedy. Every so often, we need a film that just destroys us, and Pan's Labyrinth is mine. Phenomenal stuff.

1. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Picking favourites is never easy. Especially not when there are so many fantastic films out there. As I said, the top three is basically a tied number one. That said, there's something about Milos Forman's film that just hasn't been replicated since. The 1970s are my favourite era for cinema, because so much was changing. This was a period where the films in the mainstream were allowed to go wild with their content, and the result is an archive of beautiful chaos, most of which came to shape cinema as we know it. One Flew Over is a film that's kind of aware of this artistic movement, and so tells one of the most glorious stories of rebellion ever shot. This is a movie that works on every level. First of all, it's ridiculously entertaining. For a film set in a mental institution, there's something that's just so watchable here. Forman isn't afraid to let moments of comedy seep into the drama, because that's kind of how life works. And so, even with the themes and subject matter, One Flew Over is weirdly fun in places.

Also the cast is perfect. This maybe be the best ensemble cast ever. There isn't a single wasted part here, and characters that could have been one dimensional lunatics are actually fairly fleshed out. Forman never plays these men and their struggles for laughs, but instead finds the humour in the situation they live in, and the cast bring this to life perfectly. Christopher Lloyd, Danny DeVito, Brad Dourif, Will Sampson, Scatman Crothers, Sidney Lassick, William Redfield, everyone is spot on here. Over the course of the film, you actually care about these characters, and because the film just lets the cast breathe most of the time, you end up with this really raw, interesting kind of acting that makes this film what it is.

And then there's Jack Nicholson and Louise Fletcher. Oh boy. Fletcher excels as the domineering and quietly terrifying Nurse Ratched. She never once raises her voice, instead weaponising the rules of the ward, and using that icy glare to truly chill and petrify. She's the perfect foil here, the face of the system that has done these men wrong. That has mistreated and oppressed them "for their own good". She's what the film's sense of humanity had to try so hard to fight against, but she's also the one with all of the control in this situation. Not that that's going to stop Jack Nicholson's MacMurphy. Nicholson is unbelievable in this. He's beyond perfect. He is, in essence, playing the straight man. A guy who finds himself in a system that's profoundly unfair, but nobody seems to talk about. It's him that questions this system, that challenges where help ends and torture begins. He's no hero, but he's able to stand up and say what others won't, and the result is marvellous. Of course, MacMurphy doesn't understand the size of the operation at work here, or the authority that he's taking on, but it's the fact that he takes a stand and does something about it, the fact that he doesn't let this system grind him down, that he keeps challenging it to the end, that I just absolutely adore.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is the perfect cinematic parable. It's about authoritarianism and the abuse of power. It's about what we as a society do with people when we decide they're "beyond helping". It's about questioning this stuff even when it threatens to destroy us. This is fantastic storytelling. It's a perfectly tragic tale that even in its darkest moments, even when everything seems to have gone to shit, keeps a little bit of hope. That ending is soul crushing, but it's not without hope. One Flew Over is quite simply, perfect. There's nothing about it that I don't love, nothing I think could be changed or taken out. It's got one of the best casts ever assembled, with one of the best character dynamics ever written in the power struggle between Ratched and MacMurphy. This film is a masterpiece. Go watch it if you haven't.

So, those were twelve of my favourite movies! Feel free to share your own favourites if you like, and I'll see you next time!