My Thoughts on The Invisible Man

Universal's Dark Universe was one of the most disappointing IP launches in recent memory, floundering right out of the gate with the unanimously shat-on disaster that was The Mummy. In many ways, it was a bold decision to continue with the classic monster reboots, although reframing them as self-contained stories was undoubtedly a clever move. Helmed by Upgrade's Leigh Whannell, The Invisible Man has the unenviable task of following up the one of the Cruiser's darkest hours, and that's something that it absolutely achieves. Like many Blumhouse productions, this is a film that takes studio horror and shows us what it can be, refusing to rely on lazy jumpscares and generic setups to make an easy profit. This is one of the strongest high profile horrors in years, which isn't bad when you factor in its $7 million dollar budget. Of course it helps that, like every good horror, it's actually about something, this time using the idea of the invisible man to tell the story of a toxic relationship, with Elisabeth Moss' Cecelia desperately trying to fend off her apparently dead, suddenly invisible abusive boyfriend, tech mogul Adrien Griffin

This turns out to be a great move on Whannell's part, as he mines horror from gaslighting, emotional torment and the frustrations of not being believed, and the result is something that's genuinely scary. It also takes cues from the psychological thriller, building an atmosphere of unsettling uncertainty and knowing when to puncture it with a well placed shock. Surprise is a key motif in this film, and part of its freshness comes in its unpredictability; although plot points are well telegraphed, the film excels at presenting them in a way that not only feels sudden, but also possesses an element of genuine danger. The threat always feels real in The Invisible Man, and that's down to the film's fusion of the recognisable and the alien: the grim feeling of knowing what's coming but never quite being able to stop it, or even predict how it plays out. Points to Whannell for refusing to ever show the audience the central relationship in a positive light as well. Not once is there a montage of fond memories, or even an implication that it was ever anything but toxic, and it's Whannell's refusal to rely on that kind of cheap storytelling ploy that lets him imbue the horror with so much weight.

There are genuinely shocking moments in this film (a central restaurant setpiece will surely gain notoriety), but it's the sustained sense of tension that makes each of them resonate, something only amplified by the less-is-more sensibilities that Whannell demonstrated in Upgrade. Of course, none of this means anything without an equally strong central performance, and Elisabeth Moss absolutely delivers on that front. She's the best she's ever been here, bringing so much intensity and vulnerability without ever defining Cecelia as just a victim. There is so much empathy in this performance, but it's also so visceral, taking the bone-deep horror at the centre of the story and drawing it to the surface, with a physicality that convinces even when she's acting against the air. She is the crucial ingredient in what makes this film work, the anchor that convinces even when the high-concept threatens to slide towards silliness. Her commanding presence also negates the film's only real issue, which is the breakneck pace the plot progresses at, often feeling like Whannell is forcing the plot to a conclusion. It's never a major issue, but it does feel like everything is compressed pure information, despite its considerably roomy two hour runtime, and the film feels like it's moving at a sprinter's pace for most of its run. Again, it's only a slight distraction, but the sheer concentration of information can get slightly exhausting, even if it is only noticeable when the thrills slow down

Thankfully, that's a seldom occurrence in The Invisible Man, a film that takes every opportunity to deliver a surprise and ensures that each one resonates. It's a deft reinvention of the Universal Monster film after the disappointment of The Mummy, and is proof positive that these stories can lend themselves to modernisation in the right hands. The horror feels thrillingly prescient, reframing the terror of an invisible threat in a way that is utterly unpredictable but all too familiar. Elisabeth Moss is every inch the perfect horror hero, delivering arguably her best performance ever, and it's her fearless embodiment of this character that gives this film such a sting. She makes this her own, and she easily joins the pantheon of the ace female horror leads we've seen in the last few years. It's slick, it's thrilling, it's got some really sharp ideas that linger after the credits roll, and it's tonally tight. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much of The Invisible Man, but I'm happy to say that I was very much surprised

★ ★ ★ ★

My Thoughts on About Endlessness

Roy Andersson is back. After wrapping up his Living trilogy back in 2014 with the wonderful A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, cinema's most singular surrealist has returned with About Endlessness, 78 minutes of his trademark philosophical comedy delivered in a series of shorts exploring the silliness, horror, tragedy and beauty of being a human being. About Endlessness is business as usual for the mischievous filmmaker, and it should go with saying that it won't make converts out of those who aren't already devout members of the church of Andersson, but it's a short, sharp shot of arthouse bliss, lacking a definite plot but packing plenty of gorgeously dry insights about the oddities of the everyday

The shorts explore the mundanities of existence; in many ways the title is the best indicator of what the film is about (endlessness, natch). Each one is rendered in Andersson's signature style: minimal camera movement, drab colour palette and a hyper-specific focus on the bizarre, but they're also playful, surprising and full of mischief, spryly bouncing along from one observation to the next with deadpan glee. Each short focuses on the vastness of existence, the emptiness of the void and what we choose to fill it with, and although stylistically the film is very much rooted in Andersson's classic tightness and austerity, there's a great amount of tonal fluidity in this film, which can pinball between a pitch-black depiction of an execution by firing squad to a spirited musical number with absolute ease. Andersson effortlessly flits between tones as he flicks through this gorgeously constructed picture book, but it's the images themselves that really resonate. The tableaux range from the blacker-than-black comedy wrung from a nightmarish crucifixion to the unfathomable beauty of a couple floating above a destroyed city, but even the seemingly minor images hold weight; my personal favourite being the hilariously unfortunate shot of a father tying his daughter's shoes in the midst of a monsoon, although special mention goes to the utterly unexpected appearance of one of the 20th century's most evil tyrants

The prevailing themes of About Endlessness are all classic Andersson, reducing the most bizarrely relatable moments of the human experience down to their most crucial elements, and the power of these vignettes echoes across the whole film. It is simultaneously powerful and ridiculous, but the greatest surprise is how it confronts the issue of faith. This is explicitly a film about the great forces of the universe and the extent to which we believe in them, but for all of his gleeful pranks, this is something that Andersson tackles with great contemplation. It's not so much that he knows when to laugh and when to stop laughing, but that he knows how to poke fun at the grander parts of the universe while still understanding their importance. Most importantly is that it isn't navel gazing nonsense: when he says something here, there is truth to it, and the final observation, in which one character openly remarks on the wonders of the universe, really does hit home even when it should feel preachy. The film very much sees Andersson work within his niche but again he proves why he carved it in the first place, showcasing just how well he's able to work out of it to deliver a true experience in the way that only he can

 How much of it works does of course depend on the person, but Andersson's sheer devotion to the offbeat is absolutely undeniable. It's early days yet, but it's fairly unlikely that About Endlessness will be usurped as the strangest film of 2020.

★ ★ ★ ★

My Thoughts on True History of the Kelly Gang

2016's Assassin's Creed was a rare misfire for Justin Kurzel, one of the true punks of modern genre cinema, which is unfortunate considering the brutality of 2011's Snowtown and the blazing reinterpretation of 2015's Macbeth. So it's exciting to see him back on form with True History of the Kelly Gang, a fiery reframing of the life of the outlaw Ned Kelly. This isn't the first film to tackle this story, with Kelly having been played by everyone from Heath Ledger to Mick Jagger, but it's certainly the most striking. Kurzel's take on Kelly is entirely from his perspective, following his life in three crucial stages. It also completely tears up the rulebook, telling Kelly's story the way he probably would have done so, a fitting move considering how vital the idea of making your own legacy is to the story

True History of the Kelly Gang is pure punk poetry, revelling in the anarchic bliss of Kelly's antics and finding haunting beauty amid the chaos. It's a hardcore film, with jolts of unrelenting violence and disarming moments of black comedy peppered throughout the film. These stylistic choices bring their own kind of brilliance, with bombastic punk music and blinding strobe lighting amplifying the soul searing fire at the heart of the story. This is cinema of the elements, drawing its bite from the stark natural imagery to propulsive effect, and the result is Werner Herzog by way of Pete Shelley, both anarchic and awe-inspiring on its journey through the inferno. True, this particular blend won't be to everyone's taste, but the fusion of arthouse and genre sensibilities is undeniably hypnotising, with Kurzel using that stinging bite to cut through to something pure and powerful. Throughout the film, Kurzel is musing on the act of telling history, using the Kelly story to meditate on the extent to which we get to choose how the world remembers us. What gives this film so much strength is that it doesn't feel like it's being told in retrospect; less of a chronicle of the past and more the story of a life told by the person living it.

The bloody, brutal brilliance is propelled by George McKay's beguiling turn as Kelly: unflinching, intense and physical, but with a deep lying vulnerability that makes his gradual destruction that much more tragic. McKay transforms the punk poetry into flesh, blood and muscle, supercharging every side of Kelly with pure electricity. His Kelly is an outlaw and a storyteller, a killer and a poet, and it's McKay's refusal to play the role in any one way that gives it so much blistering brilliance. This mesmeric lead performance is bolstered by a stunning supporting cast. Russell Crowe spits salty verse with a surprising sense of humour, while Nicolas Hoult is disarmingly brilliant as a leering constable, but it's Essie Davis who stands out as Kelly's mother, all fire and ferocity with a deep reservoir of love at the centre. Special mention also to first timer Orlando Schwerdt as young Ned Kelly, who smashes youthful naivety and blistering bravado together with unnerving ease

Kurzel's film is an act of cinematic alchemy, a fusion of elements from all across the spectrum that finds harmony in chaos. It brings together colonial horror, eloquent punk, haunting natural beauty and grindhouse pulp to make something truly special. This is Kurzel cementing himself as one of modern cinema's craftiest madmen, bringing together so many things that shouldn't work, yet absolutely do. It's as provoking as it is highly entertaining; a shocking take on the Ned Kelly story that rewrites the rules and delivers something that feels truly singular. It's familiar pop culture building blocks stacked in a way that feels fresh, pure punk bliss that reminds us that history always matters, even when the way it's told is as radical and irresponsible as this. It's also just a wildly fun time, revelling in the excitement of the Kelly gang's exploits without ever glamorising them. True History of the Kelly Gang is white hot brilliance, an undoubtedly niche but highly enjoyable treat that rings with the unmistakable tone of both poetry and entertainment
★ ★ ★ ★ 

My Thoughts on Weathering With You

After taking the world by storm with the magical Your Name, Makoto Shinkai is back with Weathering For You, another enchanting anime fantasy that looks absolutely gorgeous. Where Your Name dealt with bodyswapping, Weathering With You follows a young boy escaping to Tokyo, where he meets a girl with the ability to stop rain. Given that the city is experiencing non-stop storms, it seems only right that they use this power to help people who need good weather for various different events. From there, we see their day-to-day as they go from one job to the next, but the film always leaves crucial questions about the girl and her powers hanging over the story that suggest that maybe not everything is as it seems. To answer them here would of course rob the film of most its power, as well as ruin a viewing experience that's best had cold

Given that this is a Shinkai production, it should go without saying that Weathering With You looks absolutely stunning. The animation is gorgeous, revelling in reflective puddles and mouth-wateringly drawn food. No detail is left out here, with even the smallest crystal decoration hanging in a window absolutely shimmering off the screen. Pair that with a Radwimps score that is by turns haunting and awe-inspiring and you have a true treat for the senses, but what's crucial here is that Shinkai doesn't skimp on a satisfying story in his pursuit of screensaver-worthy imagery. It looks the part, but every frame is made all the more beautiful because the film is utterly overflowing with heart and charm. There's so much love in this story, both in the quietly moving moments of dialogue and the absolutely huge sequences of weather manipulation. By putting equal amounts of passion into the big and small, Shinkai is doing something really wonderful: bouncing deeply affecting moments of humanity off of the massive forces of the universe, and it's in this balance where the film transcends, even just for fleeting moments, and delivers some of the most stirring animation of the last ten years

If all the talk of the huge forces of the universe and the deep emotion of the heart sounds heavy, then it really should be emphasised how casual and breezy Weathering With You is for most of its run. The slice of life stuff is incredibly endearing, and each character is impossibly likeable, and following them in their day-to-day lives becomes an absolute treat. It's incredibly sweet and surprisingly hilarious, and even when there's not much happening, just spending two hours in this world feels like a privelege. This is helped by how short the scenes are, a potentially minor detail that means that Shinkai can fit that much more into the runtime. This structure of brief episodes makes it feel like so much is happening so quickly, which makes every moment feel all the more precious. The only drawback to such a perfect portrait of the everyday is that the film continually lets itself down when it leans into its thriller elements. True, the detective plot is needed as a catalyst for the dramatic climax, but with such an adept grasp on both the ordinary and the fantastical, the film doesn't really need any more. These scenes jar because they're forcing things to happen, taking something that excels when it just exists and pushing it to be something it isn't. And while this isn't enough to ruin the film, it does mean that it hits a snag as it goes into the third act, which is thankfully made up for with a gorgeous ending

The ending particularly reminded me of why I fell for this film in the first two acts: the optimism of it all. There's no denying- at least not in a logical way- that climate change is one of the most troubling issues right now, but Weathering With You faces climatic concerns with a reassuring smile. Shinkai literally ties weather to the drama of the story, but just as he promises that the lives of these characters will work out okay, so too can we face a meteorologically uncertain future. This is the exact kind of story we need about this right now, and the gorgeous animation, loveable cast of characters and heartfelt coming of age story are just the sweetest bonus. True, it doesn't offer any especially cutting insights on climate change, but that's not what it's trying to do. Instead, it provides a powerful tribute to the endlessly supportive act of just being there for the people we love that dispenses similar positivity when the future looks bleak. Shinkai has rendered every detail in Weathering With You with so much love, and the result is a true animated tonic that chimes with his uniquely soulful tune

★ ★ ★ ★

Top 10 Films of 2019

So, 2019 has come to a close. And what a year for films it was. From twilight masterpieces from Scorsese and Tarantino to a triad of stellar sophomore horror films by Jordan Peele, Ari Aster and Robert Eggers, 2019 had so much to offer when it came to cinema. This was a year when Thanos' box-office domination was inevitable, when Todd Philips' radical take on the Joker danced his way to notoriety and Florence Pugh proved herself to be the May Queen with a triple whammy for the ages, when Bong Joon-Ho scooped the Palme D'or and Adam Sandler showed us how he won and Noah Baumbach delivered his most personal script yet. Brad Pitt took on the Manson family and went to space and Captain Marvel took on the fanboys and came back from space, while J-Lo and Eddie Murphy came back in a big way. Martin Scorsese told us what cinema is, Toy Story 4 happened and was actually really freaking good, and Glass, Star Wars, How to Train Your Dragon and It concluded their respective storylines (though not really... right?). It was, in short, a damn good year at the movies, and this list was very tough to compile. I actually held this off for a little bit simply so I could catch everything (particularly Parasite and Pain and Glory), and even then there was stuff I missed. In particular Honey Boy, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, The Art of Self-Defence, High Life and Monos slipped through my grasp, but hey, I still saw enough to compile this, my top 10 films of 2019. The rules are the same as always: if it came out for the first time in 2019, it counts. Also, this is my opinion, and if you disagree with any of my picks, that's absolutely cool. 2019 had a lot to offer for all sorts of film fans, and if you want to share any of your favourites, please do, because I'd love to hear them!

So before we kick off with the top 10, I'd like to fire off some honourable mentions. This year I actually had more of these than I have had before, because it was just such an excellent twelve months of cinema. The fact that these 10 missed the cut is a testament to how strong the year was, and I'd highly recommend checking all of these out, because they are all great films. In no particular order, my honourable mentions for 2019 are:

Pain and Glory
Little Women
Ad Astra
Ford V. Ferrari
In Fabric
Klaus
For Sama
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
I Lost My Body
Uncut Gems

Now, without further ado, let's get cracking!

10. 1917

Sam Mendes' "single-shot" First World War drama could have easily been a technical experiment, entirely focused on whether or not Mendes, Deakins and everyone else involved could pull it off. And although 1917 is undoubtedly the technical achievement of the year, it's also so, so much more. The continuous take style is impressive but also lends the film a huge amount of weight, letting the quiet moments of drama play out uninterrupted and giving the action so much more rhythm and flow. This is an immersive piece of historical cinema, playing out in real time, and in doing this Mendes is giving you an experience that feels so close to the real thing, always visceral, tense, and full of uncertainty. This alone makes 1917 one of the most thrilling movies of the year, with action setpieces to die for, but this devotion to recreating the experience of a pair of hapless soldiers begins to result in something else entirely. In telling this story in this way, Mendes is reminding you why showing history onscreen matters. What's particularly exciting about this, though, is that it's a reminder that sometimes, it's not what's being said that's important, but how it's conveyed, and portraying the events of the story in this way is a thrilling bit of forward-thinking filmmaking from Sam Mendes. The quality of his direction really can't be overstated here, every movement and gesture carefully conducted like a beautifully brutal symphony. And when it reaches its glorious, nerve-wracking crescendo, there's no doubt that 1917 is a landmark in the war genre

9. The Irishman

Okay yeah, this was the highest ranking 2019 film on my best of the decade list, and through watching and rewatching various other films from they year, its position has gone down slightly, but The Irishman is still a brilliant piece of cinema, proof that 77 years young and 25 films deep, Martin Scorsese is still a master. He's at the top of his game here, delivering a sweeping, sobering and utterly epic obituary of a gangster film. The Irishman is classic Scorsese, with tough guys and sharp dialogue and a doo-wop soundtrack, but what makes it feel fresh is the deep tragedy at its centre. It's simultaneously absolutely huge and very, very small, working its way through the story of the insidious forces at work in 20th century America until it arrives in the heart of a man utterly destroyed by crime and sin. The de-ageing effects were much discussed, but they hardly detract from the barnstorming performances of the three leads; a stoic, repressed De Niro, a chillingly quiet Joe Pesci, and a brash, abrasive and impossibly stubborn Pacino. It's a big film with similarly huge ideas, about morality, crime and politics, sure, but also about time, and death, and spiritual devastation. It slows down and hones in on the often ignored tragedy of the American gangster, and when it does it feels like a sobering reflection, like Scorsese himself stopping to ruminate on the end, to tell a story where time is the toughest guy of them all. It's his trademark ingredients with a newly added, incredibly refreshing dose of perspective, something that seems to have sharpened considerably at this point in Scorsese's life and career. To quote ice-cream enthusiast Jimmy Hoffa, The Irishman is a work of art

8. The Farewell

Lulu Wang's second film is something truly wonderful. Gentle, sensitive and absolutely gorgeous, The Farewell is one of the best stories of the year, made even better because it's based on an actual lie. Wang approaches the differences between Eastern and Western attitudes to death in a way that's nuanced and assured, sometimes playful, always poignant, and ultimately deeply moving. Every member of this family seems real, every emotion expressed feels genuine, and every moment of humour amid the heartbreak feels completely natural. The Farewell takes care to prevent any emotion from ever feeling forced, instead quietly observing as they surface and letting them develop on their own. The tone is carefully balanced here, everything measured just so. This is a film with a lot to say, navigating the complexities of family, culture and morality with aplomb. It's incredibly clever without sacrificing its sincerity, feeling so authentic and so emotional and so absolutely real. It's such an easy film to fall in love with, especially with how realistic each of these performances are. Awkwafina is the standout here, quietly articulating so much emotion in such an understated way. Her face, her body language, the subtle notes of emotion in the tone of her voice, everything about her performance is packed with empathy. Zhao Shuzhen is also fantastic as Nai Nai, immediately loveable and warm and impossible not to become completely attached to. It is a pure emotional experience, so delicately designed to carry huge amounts of feeling and weight, transcending cultural specificities and cementing itself as one of the most powerful films of 2019. Like I said, it's truly wonderful


7. Us

Jordan Peele broke new ground with the superlative Get Out, but in making Us, he's done the improbable, not just following up his debut, but actually topping it. If Get Out mined its horror from the literal black and white climate of modern America, then Us is something far more abstract, broadening out both the genre conventions and the political subtext. The result is a twisted, intelligent blast. There's so much going on in Us, so much commentary on the vicious surrealism of the American myth and the paralysing fear of facing ourselves. The gradual, fairy-tale-like reveals are expertly plotted, each one deepening and broadening the warped, chaotically psychological musings of the plot. Us is punctuated and elevated by Peele's mischievous sense of humour, wringing some darkly funny laughs from the most unexpected situations. Lupita Nyong'o gives not one but two incredible performances as a girl and her shadow, essentially playing out an utterly unpredictable one-woman power dynamic that's never 100% set. Us is a film where all of the horror comes from within; the dark memories that surface in a woman's psyche, the long buried secrets of a nation, the insidious plot that's been in motion for decades. Like Get Out, this is a film made up of small but significant details, but here the mosaic they form is more of a set of questions than a singular comment. And that's okay; in a time of discord and confusion, Us acts as a mirror, reflecting back what's projected onto it, suggesting that maybe the world it's being released into is its own worst enemy

6. Booksmart

I. Love. This. Film. Booksmart was one of the biggest delights of the year, a teen comedy that was fresh, exciting and incredibly funny. Olivia Wilde's debut was smart and fun, a lot like its main characters, and it's hands down the most rewatchable film on this list. It's just such a fun movie to spend time with. Beanie Feldstein and Kaitlyn Dever have amazing chemistry, and their ride-or-die bond is what makes Booksmart absolutely pop. Molly and Amy's friendship is wonderfully written, funny and sweet and utterly believable. And what's even cooler about Booksmart is that every character here is memorable, and likeable too. There are no archetypes, no one-dimensional caricatures, just an ensemble cast of funny characters bursting with personality. It's an incredibly good-natured movie, one that genuinely cares about all of its characters and absolutely makes sure that you like them too. It's a familiar story fantastically realised, with a smart, savvy script that reminds you how fun this kind of movie can be when done right. It's also a film that's not afraid to experiment, from an animated drug trip to an incredible moment in a swimming pool and a heartbreaking single-shot argument. It's just such a blast, the rare film about partying that's just as much fun, and it's proof-positive that the teen comedy has life in it yet. Booksmart's awesome, plain and simple. Turns out movies can be pretty fun. Who knew?

5. Knives Out

It seemed like a shot in the dark after how divisive The Last Jedi was, but Rian Johnson's murder mystery was an absolute treat first minute to last. It's obvious that Johnson takes pleasure in being the storyteller, in letting his yarn unfold in an unexpected, captivating way. He sets the scene and then lets it shift and change, never setting it completely until the very end, and the fun that he's having while he's doing it is utterly infectious. It's a great experience, to be in the hands of such a playful fabulist, never quite sure what's going to happen until it does, and repeatedly being surprised when he flips the script again and brings the plot in an entirely new direction. It's like great theatre, playing out in this lavish mansion with one of the best ensemble casts I've seen in years. Daniel Craig, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Chris Evans, Toni Collette, Don Johnson, Christopher Plummer, and the rest of this wickedly wonderful cast are having so much fun delivering this knotty, razor sharp dialogue, pairing the laughs with a sly social commentary that never distracts, always amplifying each quip with a deliciously political sting. Johnson has measured everything so carefully here, constructing a love letter to the whodunnit that revels in classic genre trappings while still feeling uniquely contemporary. The sheer passion for storytelling is immense, and that translates to a film that's so much fun because it's so well put together, twisty and unpredictable and devilishly enjoyable

4. Parasite

Bong Joon-Ho took the world by storm this year with his seventh film, and it's a tricky one to talk about. So much of this movie is in the experience of watching it, and to spoil it would be to give away some of 2019's best cinematic surprises. So I won't give too many details, but I will say this: Bong Joon-Ho is establishing himself as one of the most important filmmakers in the industry right now. Everything here is fine-tuned, every detail and story beat working in unison to create one of the most wickedly clever films in some time. The steady tonal shift here is masterfully done, gliding from incredibly funny satire into something more troubling but still incredibly relevant. It's hilarious and thrilling and disturbing and poignant and deeply sad. It's wonderfully constructed, elegant filmmaking, telling a story about class that's complex and intelligent and incredibly entertaining. The film never tells you how to feel or who to root for, and the fact that every character here is likeable makes everything that happens resonate even more. It's not obvious, painting a portrait of two families and leaving it up to the audience to draw a conclusion. Bong's direction is the best it's ever been here. I especially love how he uses space; upstairs/downstairs, inside/outside, every character's position in a scene so expertly conducted. It's such a thrill to watch unfold, perfectly balancing intelligence with insanity and touching on some timely themes along the way. It's a thriller where nobody's right or wrong, where everyone's just trying to get by, where the irresponsibility of the rich and the survival instinct of the poor clash in a wonderfully twisted way, and the result is dementedly brilliant cinema

3. The Lighthouse

2019 was an excellent year for horror, and it didn't get much better than Robert Eggers' miraculously mental second film. The Lighthouse is pure cinematic insanity, looking and feeling like a lost 30s horror film and diving to depths that few films could muster. It's immediately an aesthetic wonder with it's beautiful black-and-white cinematography and cramped aspect ratio, giving it an incredibly oppressive atmosphere right off the boat. This is a film that seeks to swallow you, trapping you in this wild tale of two lighthouse keepers slowly succumbing to their own isolation. It was gnarly, chaotic and utterly engrossing, bizarrely hilarious and deeply disturbing. The dialogue is deliciously delivered and flows like briny verse, fantastically performed by Robert Pattison and Willem Dafoe. Their performances are stunning, bringing this insane story to life by embodying this unstable, constantly shifting relationship. Eggers amplifies the horror by leaving much of it ambiguous, never actually revealing exactly what's going on, leaving it completely open to any number of explanations, including madness, manipulation, drunkenness and demonic forces. The imagery is spellbinding and intense, frightening and surreal and dripping with meaning, especially the seagull, the great omen of doom that prompts one of the film's most chaotically hilarious moments. It's a film that radiates black magic, feeling haunted and dangerous first frame to last while dissecting this volatile, fractious bond. It is astonishing cinema, certainly not for everyone but very much for me. The Lighthouse is frenzied, rain-lashed poetry from one of the most demented voices in horror right now, and one of the most soul stirring experiences of 2019

2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Quentin Tarantino's ninth film was lauded as being a love letter to Old Hollywood, but I actually think it's more mournful than that. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is a dewy eyed tribute to a time gone by that plays out in the last days of an era that's steadily ticking towards destruction by changing attitudes, both in cinema and society. Despite the overarching sense of melancholy though, it's an absolute delight, a laid back cruise through a painstakingly recreated 1969 LA. No detail is left behind here, the film absolutely packed with titbits and Easter eggs that pay homage to all sorts of 60s pop culture. It's a film that contains multitudes, but it's more of a snapshot of a time and place than a forensic examination, and it's all the better for it, with a mood and atmosphere that's utterly engrossing. What's really exciting though, is Tarantino's storytelling presence. This is a side of him we haven't seen before, relaxed and warm and gentle. His separation of Sharon Tate from her untimely murder is a particular masterstroke, telling a story where she can just exist, giving her an opportunity to just live her life. It attracted attention for its wild rewriting of history, but even that is spirted and irreverent, intensely violent but fuelled by idealism. It's far and away his most pleasant film, with characters that are genuinely fun to spend time with. Leo's Rick Dalton is a fantastic hybrid of any number of forgotten TV actors who never really got their due, but it's Brad Pitt's Cliff Booth who is immediately cemented as one of Tarantino's finest creations, a laid-back, lethal wanderer who gets some of QT's tastiest lines in years. It's cinema as a door to somewhere else, a pure celebration of a power that only film possesses. It's pure, cineliterate magic, and nothing short of being one of Tarantino's finest. To quote bespectacled agent Marvin Schwarz: "What a picture"

1. Jojo Rabbit

Taika Waititi's Nazi satire could have been just a lighthearted romp with a silly imaginary Hitler, but it's to the credit of him and everyone else involved in Jojo Rabbit that it's so much more. This is, simply put, the most triumphant piece of cinema of 2019. It's incredibly funny, with a great variety of perfectly paced and timed jokes, but it's also incredibly timely. This is a film about love. It examines the effects of hate, and laughs at the systems that teach it, and proudly champions love as an act of salvation. Waititi's child's-eye style has never been better, full of idealism and wonder that makes every moment of heartbreak and horror hit that much harder. The film's grip on its tone is absolutely expert, effortlessly and fearlessly taking on the dark realities of its subject matter with warmth and positivity. It's incredibly clever, full of little touches of genius, but what really makes it work is how charged with feeling it is. It is an infectiously compassionate film, one that rejects cool cynicism in favour of idealistic joy and is so much better for it. Here, Waititi's gleefully quirky jokes feel like acts of resistance, fun and frivolity that refuse to buckle under the forces of hate. The cast are note perfect, especially Roman Griffin-Davis and Thomasin McKenzie as the leads, with ace supporting turns from Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Stephen Merchant and even Waititi himself as a child's imagined version of Hitler. This is emotionally charged, feelgood cinema that only Waititi is capable of delivering. It's got all the pure glee of Boy with an added political sting, one that's sharp and unrelenting but ultimately full of hope. It's a film that urges us to be that little bit better, to reject hate and celebrate love and laugh at the evils of the world, because to do so is to remove them of their influence. Jojo Rabbit is a true marvel, an absolute gem and hands down my favourite film of 2019

Top 10 Worst Films of 2019

Oh god. 2019 was a great year for films, but like any year, it wasn't all good. Between all the gems, there were definitely some pebbles, and these were ten that particularly stood out. It's worth noting that, by and large, this was not a bad year, and the amount of good films I saw definitely outweighed the bad. But they can't all be winners, so it's time to ring in a new year by putting 2019's biggest turkeys on trial. These are my top 10 worst films of 2019. All my opinion obviously, and if you like any of these films, that's also cool. I saw a lot of stuff this year that, while not bad enough to make the list, still didn't work for me as much as they did for other people (High Flying Bird, I Am Mother, Isn't Romantic, The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot), and if there's anything on this list you genuinely liked, then great. Different films work for different people, and these ones just did not do it for me. Alright that's more than enough talking, let's get through my bottom ten movies of 2019!

Also I haven't seen Cats, so y'know, bear that in mind

10. 6 Underground

Alright, look. Michael Bay is an easy target, and it's not clever or inspired to put one of his films on a worst of the year list, and to be fair, 6 Underground is an improvement on some of his catalogue. But it's just.... ugh. This is Bay letting loose, ditching some of the stuff that people didn't like about his other movies and embracing the Bayhem. And it was.... a slight improvement, but in this case it's just going from godawful to just plain ol' awful. So good job Bay, but your film still sucks. 6 Underground is obnoxious as all hell, masquerading as fun while really just playing up its weirdly unimpactful action and stiff, painfully awkward dialogue. This is a film that massively overestimates the charisma of Ryan Reynolds, who's just not cut out for roles like this, trying to bring Merc With a Mouth levels of swagger to a character whose ultimate goal is never really explained. He operates as a ghost, using his billions to kill the bad men because they're bad, and he embarks on this quest in this particular way for a reason that's never really explained. Not that the film cares, because it's all about the fun, the over-the-top action and group banter and crazy hijinks that fully recognises how silly it is, which is fine, save for the fact that it's not fun at all. The action is hollow, lacking any weight or impact and never really earning its craziness. The group dynamic is Fast and Furious lite, but that's no compliment, taking that franchise's notorious penchant for the F-word and somehow making it weaker. 6 Underground's biggest sin though, is that it's so full-on, all the time. It's unfathomably obnoxious, so loud and abrasive and weirdly dated, feeling like an awful direct-to video film from the 90s. It feels endless, and just when it sets up its climax, there's still a whole lot of film left to go, and it somehow only gets worse. But hey, Bayhem, am I right?

9. Serenity

You know films that are made by their crazy twists? Like they're just fine, until a wild third act reveal makes them great? Yeah, Serenity's not that. Points for creativity, but in fairness, it'd take some twist to make a film like this feel worthwhile. Serenity's pulpy neo-noirness should work, especially given its fantastic leads, but what we end up with is a turgid, bloated mess, and I'm still not quite sure why. The premise, with Matthew McConaughey's crusty fisherman trying to catch an elusive fish while his ex-wife, played by Anne Hathaway, tries to persuade him into murdering her current partner is an intriguing one, but something about it just feels horribly overripe, Not for lack of trying, but the script here is painfully broad, never making the chemistry crackle or the twist connect to anything. It's a busy enough film, but given how mishandled everything is, that's not a good thing, making it feel horribly overstuffed. Safe to say the McConaissance has hit a roadblock, as he stumbles through the film in a way that's less dazed and confused and more lost and bewildered. The whole film feels like that, wobbling around its dodgily executed premise like a sunstroke stricken sailor. I get the whole De Palma vibe they're going for, but it lacks the go-for-broke sleaziness and actual technical proficiency that he has, so just watch Body Double, or Dressed to Kill, or Blow Out if you're curious. This is a weird, confused mess of a film that's unable to decide on a tone. Send it out to sea, and leave it there

8. The Lion King

Disney's journey into their vaults to soullessly recreate their classic films in order to tighten their vice-like grip on the box office has made for some progressively dodgy films, and The Lion King is potentially the worst of them all. I'll say this: I've got a huge amount of respect for the people that worked on this film. Although it lacks anything that makes the original work, it looks fantastic, and was made with so much care and effort that it's crazy. When all is said and done, it's a technical achievement for the ages, and for all of its issues, that's something it does absolutely fantastically. Unfortunately, the same level of care was not put into the rest of the film, which plays out like a shot-for-shot remake that completely lacks energy, or fun, or substance. It feels empty, completely hollow in its story (it's just the original), its tone (it doesn't have one) and even in its voice cast (James Earl-Jones aside, none of the voices ever feel like they're bringing anything special to these characters). Worse still, it's the most transparently cash-grabby Disney remake yet, never justifying itself for any other reason. Some of these remakes I get, but wallet-expansion aside, why did they make this? The animals look too real to talk, let alone sing, and their emotions never feel genuine, because they never actually emote. The result is painful to watch, reviving a much beloved animated film (which I really like), in a way that lacks any kind of heart, soul or energy. It looks amazing, and anyone who worked on that end should be more than proud of themselves because holy shit it's a real feat, but damn if the film itself isn't lifeless and flaccid

7. Shaft

Of all of the problems with the third(!) take on the Shaft series, the most prominent is maybe the most surprising: the constant millennial-bashing, taking shots at the current generation at every possible opportunity. This does nothing to stop Shaft 2019 from feeling dated, actually making that much, much worse. It's a tonal mess, with bland action and broad, awkward humour clashing against each other and barely tying together a totally incoherent story. Any charisma it has is instantly negated by the coarse, abrasive, deeply unlikeable mood of the film. Admittedly, the performances aren't bad here, but everything else is so offensively bad that they actually can't do anything with it. It is every crime film ever, just with a Shaft mask on, and speaking of, why did we get a Shaft film in 2019? It's a film that is so frightened of the climate it's being released into, stubbornly making ill-judged jokes in an attempt to reluctantly address what's relevant. It's a messy hodge-podge of a film that almost immediately establishes itself as a totally unnecessary product that seeks to only appeal to a very small, possibly extinct audience. Like, and I don't mean to sound condescending, but were there any die-hard Shaft fans who were dying for a sequel? Did anyone want more Shaft? It worked in the 70s, because that's the era for this story, but nothing about this works now. It's a desperate, depressing mess of a film, so crass and crude and almost paradoxically toothless and safe. It reminds me a lot of last year's The Happytime Murders, and given that that film was a spoof, and a bad one, that is not a good thing

6. The Dead Don't Die

Oh god. The Dead Don't Die is a film that got progressively worse the more I thought about it last year. Jim Jarmusch's deadpan style is fine, but this is just not it, man. This was a zombie spoof Jarmusch style, which is great on paper, before you see the film and realise how tired it is. It is utterly bereft of energy, so dry and cynical and just really hard to enjoy. It tries to make sly comments about America, but never commits to any ideas. It tries to be slick and subversive and break the fourth wall, but none of that feels earned or fun, instead just taking you out a film that you didn't really care about in the first place. It frequently uses anti-climaxes, but they never feel like they have a purpose, just tired, abrupt endings to plot threads that the film doesn't have the energy to begin to develop. It kind of explains why this is happening, and almost turns that into a social comment, only to decide that it doesn't really care about that and keeps going to find more things to not care about. I get that cynicism and particularly cynical humour can be tough to utilise onscreen, but this is next level, even for Jarmusch. It's not even that nothing happens and it's full of deadpan humour, it's that the film sets things up to happen and then makes it expressly clear that it doesn't care, and that stops you from caring, which stops you from listening, laughing and ultimately, remembering. I just hate the idea that not caring is cool, that being detached has more artistic value. I really detested this film's empty, uncaring approach, which felt more lifeless than the corpses that wandered its bloated runtime

5. Velvet Buzzsaw

I remember when I heard that Dan Gilroy was making a horror satire set in the art world. I was excited. Oh how foolish I was. Velvet Buzzsaw is, in fairness, not without its merits; it does have a good cast, some memorable intentionally funny dialogue and an interesting setup. I mean, it's hardly boring. But having good elements is one thing; making them work well together is a whole different thing. The gooey-grindhouse horror feels at odds with the sharp comments on the cutthroat world of criticism. It's both way too clever for its own good and way too stupid to stand on its own two feet. It's two entirely separate movies, completely at odds with each other. It's too smugly clever to be enjoyable, and way too silly to have anything of value to say. The campy, over-the-top tone should have been fun, but it just isn't because it feels like an accident, like something that isn't supposed to be there. It's a load of different films happening at the same time, and if any of them do work, they certainly don't work together. The result is alien and unlikeable, self-satisfied and absolutely ridiculous, and if it does have anything to say about criticism, then I'm still waiting to hear it. I wanted to like Velvet Buzzsaw more than anything else on this list, but what we ended up with is just.... ugh. It's just such a disappointing mess.

4. The Dirt

I guess the next four films on this list can be described as being deeply unpleasant, absolutely obnoxious experiences that I just wanted to end. I'll get that out of the way now, because they all made me feel so absolutely empty. I don't care about Mötley Crüe, at all, and I think if I did, this would be higher. The Dirt so desperately wants to be a cool, Wolf of Wall Street style take on the rise and fall of this band, urging you to join them on their debauchery. The problems here though, range from a deeply unpleasant laddish humour to an utterly obnoxious tone that never feels like it fits any given moment. The result is cringe inducing and painful, genuinely hard to watch as it tries to involve you in this utterly repugnant story. It wants you to care; to think that these guys are as cool as the filmmakers obviously think they are, but my god does that backfire. It's an embarrassing film to watch, because watching it feels like participating in something wrong, like even by acknowledging it you're doing something you're not supposed to. Not in a fun way, like something like Risky Business does knowingly, but in a seedy way, where it wants to impress you with its brash, rock n' roll story but instead you can't help but focus on everything problematic in it. It's a worryingly crass film, one that takes the sex drugs and rock n' roll at total face value and portrays that culture with none of the knowingness. Just watch This is Spinal Tap, and in the meantime, this film can lick my love pump

3. Wounds 

When Under the Shadow came out in 2016, it established Babak Anvari as a serious one to watch in terms of horror. It was nuanced and intelligent, grounded in a specific context yet possessing great universality. It was fantastic, and it made me really excited for whatever he did next. So it's a shame to say that Wounds is absolutely awful. Everything about this film is unpleasant, from characters that are impossible to like or care about to a story that feels so hollow and generic. The ambiguity and subtlety of Under the Shadow is gone, with Wounds feeling so basic and broad, making absolutely no impact because there's nothing here that can resonate. But what's especially bad about Wounds is how nasty it is. And not in a good way. Good horror comes from a passionate place, grounded in something that the audience can care about. Wounds forgoes that and suffers for it, no soul, nothing to care about, just an empty atmosphere and some misjudged disgusting imagery. You can't be scared if you can't care. Wounds is at its worst not when it's trying to be scary but when it isn't, not even being able to pull of the fundamental step of getting the audience to care about what's going on. This sets the film up for a fall right from the start, and from there it's just so incredibly hard to watch, progressively nasty and unlikeable, and not in a good way. It's an ill-judged mess from a filmmaker who has proven that he can do so much better. Anvari's first film was called Under the Shadow, and that's exactly where Wounds belongs

2. Polar

2019 was the year I fell in love with John Wick, watching the trilogy for the first time and coming to adore them as some of the best action films in years. 2019 was also the year we got Polar. Polar is John Wick.... but bad. I love Mads Mikkelsen, and the thought of him as a badass assassin fighting his way to retirement is undoubtedly exciting, but this was such a misfire. It was tasteless, trashy and surprisingly mind-numbingly boring. EVERYTHING was over the top here, and yet it all just blended together like slush, trying so hard to make an impression that it just became flavourless, silly trash. It was such a confused film, containing everything from a needlessly explicit sex scene to Richard Dreyfuss doing karaoke. Hell, Mads Mikkelsen's character was called Duncan, which isn't exactly a cool-assassin name. This is a film that thinks that over the top gore is automatically cool, which it definitely isn't. The result is a miserable mess with a worrying obsession with bloodshed, and almost no substance to back that up. It's obnoxious as all hell as well, trying so hard to be hip and stylish. And this isn't even talking about the twist, which is awful, and confusing, and means nothing because the film is just too bad to make it feel like it matters. Polar is a waste of style, a film that's desperately trying to be a John Wick-Punisher fusion and just ends up as an embarrassing pile of sloppy, cynical sileage 

1. Hellboy

Nope. Nope. NOPE. Hellboy was.... well let's look at what's not awful first. David Harbour tries? And Mila Jovovich is really good, and there's an almost fun Thomas Haden Church cameo. Apart from that, everything in Neil Marshall's Hellboy reboot is absolutely abhorrent. Trading the heart and nuance of Guillermo del Toro's duology for edginess and bizarre mythology and so much swearing, this film was a nightmare from beginning to end. It never stopped, always trying to outdo itself with messy, ill-judged violence. The plot is so thin and surreal that it's actually kind of hilarious, trying to tie the (surprisingly whiny) hero into Arthurian legend, with a Brian Gleeson cameo that borders on parody. And this isn't even talking about Sasha Lane's literal exposition vomiting, or Ian McShane's bewildered take on Hellboy's dad, or Mo from EastEnders turning up midway through, or even Stephen Graham as an endlessly annoying pig demon. Hellboy promised a harder take on the character, and that was something that really did excite me, but what we got wasn't nearly that good. And I like Neil Marshall, a lot, and hoped that he could bring some Descent style horror or some Blackwater style action, but no, instead we get horrible humour, messy worldbuilding and a bizarre obsession with gore and violence that just feels misplaced. I felt like I was having a fever dream watching this, and not in a good way. Hellboy was nothing short of the worst film that came out last year, and I just want to be done with it. There you have it: Hellboy, my least favourite film of 2019

My Thoughts on the 92nd Academy Awards

So it's awards season once more, a time of wondering how many movies these voters actually watched. There is a very cynical way of looking at awards shows, but the truth is they encourage a discussion and are fun as hell to follow, and with the Oscars upon us once more, I'd like to weigh in with what I make of the soon to be winners and losers of the 92nd Academy Awards. On the whole, it's a stronger lineup than last year (I like every single nominee I've seen more than Green Book), and every category contains something genuinely interesting, and is still largely representative of some of the year's biggest films. Wait, NOTHING for Hustlers? Seriously? Yeah, female-helmed films are still being almost totally snubbed, and that's still both infuriating and absolutely ridiculous, but apart from that, it's hard to point out any massive issues with this year's nominees. Maybe it's not the definitive lineup in any of these categories- there are definitely some I'd swap out- but it's hardly bad, and there's a lot to talk about here, so let's get into it! Quick note, I'm note really gonna focus on the technical awards so much- it's not something I feel educated enough to comment on

So first up there's the nine nominees for best picture, and before I get into this it's worth noting that I haven't seen Parasite, but from everything I've heard, it definitely deserves its nomination. Not sure how good its chances of winning actually are, given the Academy's bias towards English language films, but it's awesome to see it nominated nonetheless. I'm a huge Bong Joon-Ho fan, and seeing him get so much recognition at so many awards ceremonies has been a real treat. Again, its the one nominee here that I can't actually speak for, but it very much looks like something I'd enjoy, and I'm really happy to see a filmmaker with such a unique, effective style finally get recognised for how great he is

If I'm being honest, Ford v Ferrari's nomination is definitely a surprise. I liked the film an awful lot, and its mix of quiet, sturdy drama and roaring race sequences was undoubtedly fantastic, but the fact that it was kind of disappearing at most of these ceremonies makes its best picture nomination kind of unexpected. It definitely feels like something that would have been nominated in the 70s, and the "they don't make 'em like that anymore" narrative is definitely a strong one for awards season. I mean, there's no reason it shouldn't be up, it's bolstered by earnest, powerful performances and contains some incredible action sequences, but it just seems to lack the cultural pull that the other nominees have. As much as I loved it, it didn't make the same kind of splash that the others did, so the fact that it got this kind of recognition is kind of awesome. I loved Ford v Ferrari, and thought is chances of winning are pretty much nil, knowing that they remembered to nominate it for best picture still feels pretty nice

The Irishman's nomination is a no-brainer, right? I mean any Scorsese film is going to get some kind of recognition anyway, but the heft of The Irishman, from its literally legendary cast to its weighty subject matter, meant that a best picture nomination was a sure thing. It'd be so great for this to win, if only because we probably won't get something like this for some time. Add to that the sheer proficiency of it, both in Scorsese's measured direction and those notorious de-ageing effects, and you've got what could be a strong contender for best picture. Even if it's kind of familiar territory for Scorsese, the weight of it and the impact of it, mean that, even if it doesn't revinvent the wheel, it does redefine it, delivering a recognisable gangster film in a way that reminds us why the genre is such a staple to begin with. Not to mention that cast, with some absolute legends that are bound to attract some Oscar heat, and you've got what could be a very likely shot at the big one. I love The Irishman, and if it did win, I'd be so damn happy, because it's one of the king's very best, and its slow burning, sobering meditation on sin and ageing is definitely worth celebrating

Jojo Rabbit is my favourite film of 2019, and even if it has no hope of winning best picture, at all, even just seeing it nominated is a real joy. Taika Waititi's style really is one of a kind, and his absolute command of the tone here means that this maybe his best ever, with a message that's really worth celebrating. The earnestness and the creativity of Jojo mean that its nomination here feels like the Academy recognising something that really feels significant, and different, and exciting. I know not everyone loves it, and that will definitely work against it here (although check out the next one), but honestly, a film like this is not the sort of thing that the Academy would ever give its top prize to anyway, so that's alright. Just the fact that they're celebrating a film that delivers such an important message in such a creative way is great in itself.

Joker is by far my least favourite of these nominees. Its award success isn't surprising, considering Joaquin Phoenix's incredible performance (which he's rightfully being lauded for), but I just don't think there's anything remarkable enough about this film to make it worth celebrating in this way. I can't see it winning Best Picture, for a host of reasons (the controversy, the competition, hell even the genre might hold it back), and I know its only nominated because of its lead performance. There's no way that he's not winning Best Actor, but I'll get to that later. The fact that this is the most nominated film is a little strange to me, because, although it's far from bad, it's also not half as good as most of the movies that missed the cut. I don't know, between its general average-ness and the grim, cynical tone, it just doesn't feel worth celebrating as a film. I know the reason why it's up for Best Picture, but it's definitely one of the least deserving nominees for me

Little Women feels like the safe option this year; everyone likes it, it hasn't attracted any major criticism for anything, and it's based on a treasured, familiar piece of literature. That's not a bad thing though, because it's fantastic, with a strong personality and a clever way of spreading its message. Being the safest choice isn't always a bad thing, and it's great to see Greta Gerwig's savvy take on this story being recognised. Its warm, wholesome, instantly accessible vibe makes it a strong contender, and I don't think anyone would be massively upset if it did win. Gerwig's followup to Lady Bird is seeing her on similarly awards-favoured form, and although Lady Bird wasn't exactly my tempo, Little Women very much is, and just to have just a cheerful, sweet, intelligent film recognised in this way is great, and if it did win, I'd be very happy indeed

I love seeing Noah Baumbach being recognised for Marriage Story, even if the film itself is far from being a favourite of mine. Much like Joker, I think it's the performances that are attracting the bulk of the heat, yet the script is sharp here and the drama is well realised enough to make it a Best Picture nominee that is at the least understandable. Its forensic, Bergman-esque approach to its story is undeniably great, and even if I didn't 100% gel with it, I love that it's nominated, because it is one of the more impressive nominees. Between this and The Irishman, it's great to see Netlfix establishing themselves as a distributor who can have this kind of awards success, something that would be almost unimaginable a few years ago. So yeah, I'm happy for Marriage Story. It's probably not going to win, but it's recognition is a good way of celebrating a routinely snubbed filmmaker

1917 is far and away one of the frontrunners for Best Picture, and.... well... yeah. It's technically the best one of the bunch, and the experience it provides is a really persuasive argument for the big-screen experience. It's not my favourite of the nominees (or even my favourite nominee set during a war), but it is such an impressive piece of work, and calling it the objective best film of the year isn't too much of a stretch. Its chances are very strong, and Mendes has the magic touch when it comes to the Oscars anyway (dude won BP with his freaking debut), so I wouldn't be surprised if Blake and Schofield come bounding across no man's land with the top prize of the night. The long-take thing has led some to dismiss it as a pure experiment, but I don't know, I think it's more than that, and right now, it seems like one of the most likely films to win, along with....

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is maybe my top prediction. Hollywood loves stories about Hollywood, and the Academy like Tarantino, so the signs are all there. This is my favourite nominee after Jojo, and seeing it win would be kind of amazing. This is Tarantino's warmest film yet, such a clear-eyed but obviously passionate take on the movie industry that contains his best writing since Inglourious Basterds. It's also got THAT cast, who give it enough star wattage to get him back out of the not-very-Oscarsy-niche that The Hateful Eight found itself in. Its nomination, like most of these, is not a surprise, but this one in particular feels right, and could mark the first BP win for a director who, love him or loath him, has reshaped both indie and mainstream cinema and redefined big-screen cool as we know it

So that's the Best Picture lineup. Ford v. Ferrari is a definite surprise, but apart from that, I can't really call this unexpected. There are omissions of course; Uncut Gems, Us, Hustlers, Ad Astra, Knives Out, A Hidden Life and The Farewell in particular all feel like they could have been up there as well but just about fell short. There's a sense here that the Academy are embracing different films a little bit more every year, particularly in recognising Jojo and Parasite, both of which are films that lie firmly outside of that typical "Oscar Movie" stereotype. There aren't too many that seem out of place, just Joker which is still a better performance than it is a whole film. Even in recognising stalwarts like Scorsese, Tarantino and Mendes, it feels like a celebration of the work moreso than the director. It's also great to see Greta Gerwig be two-for-two with her films getting Best Picture nominations now, as well as Noah Baumbach finally getting a look in for what is possibly his best script ever. My ranking looks something like this:

8. Joker
7. Marriage Story
6. Little Women
5. Ford v. Ferrari
4. 1917
3. The Irishman
2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
1. Jojo Rabbit

So now let's move onto the acting awards, starting with Best Actor. And again, it's exactly what you'd expect. Banderas, DiCaprio, Phoenix, Pryce and Driver. I haven't seen Pain and Glory yet (although I like Almodóvar a lot), but I've heard Antonio Banderas is fantastic in it. Leo gives maybe my favourite performance of the bunch here as Once Upon a Time's Rick Dalton, all washed-up, over-the-top pettiness, while also embodying an era of unsung acting heroes. The fact that he's probably going to lose is also very Rick Dalton. His isn't the best performance nominated, it's just the character I had the most fun spending time with. It is going to go to Joaquin Phoenix though, the one thing about Joker that was undoubtedly fantastic. He's undeniably great, maybe not my favourite performance here (largely due to the context of the film it's in), but I'm a big Phoenix fan, and watching him get his recognition on the night is going to be great. I think Jonathon Pryce's nomination is great as well, especially because, well, it's Jonathon Pryce and he's amazing (#ThePryceIsRight). His Pope Francis is excellent, perfectly capturing the man and his mannerisms, and doing so in five different languages. He gives what I think is the best performance of this lineup, quiet and sensitive and uncannily like the person he's portraying. I generally think it's too easy to give actors performances for becoming real people (although the Oscars eat that stuff up), but in this case, I think there's something more, something that Pryce brings to his portrayal that goes well beyond a caricature. Adam Driver is also great in Marriage Story, capturing both the big and small moments with aplomb, acing the tiny moments of emotional nuance as well as those big outbursts of heartbreak and rage. He won't win it, but it's still one of the standout performances in his endlessly impressive, somehow ever-improving career

Of course there are snubs. De Niro in The Irishman is the big one, probably ignored because of how chillingly quiet his performance is. He very rarely emotes in the film, which would turn a lot of awards-voters off, and yet it's that exact lack of loud, expressive feeling that makes him so good. Better than all of the nominees, in fact. It's pretty stupid that he was snubbed because he's not giving a bravura, emotive performance, but hey, it's not who does the best acting, but who does the most acting, right? Another big snub is Adam Sandler in Uncut Gems, who is also better than these nominees. He's big and loud, but with huge reservoirs of substance, channelling the natural chaos of his comic persona into a chaotic turn as the most disastrous person ever. He never feels like he's overacting or going at it too hard, even if that's probably what he's doing to be honest. He's giving 100% a hundred percent of the time, and if that could have been tiring in the hands of anyone else, Sandler pulls it off nicely as the most strangely likeable character in a film last year. And finally, Roman Griffin Davis in Jojo Rabbit, who gives an excellent performance that's all the more impressive because it's his first acting. It's a shame, but not a surprise; the Oscars rarely recognise good performances in comedies (see also: Daniel Craig in Knives Out, who, even if he didn't give the best performance, definitely had the best accent). Same goes for Eddie Murphy's riotous comeback in Dolemite is My Name, which is funny and nuanced and just about the best he's been in.... maybe ever?

Best Actress is a bit of a tricky one, in that, although I haven't seen Harriet or Bombshell, none of these really standout as better than the others. Renée Zellweger will definitely win for Judy, which she's very good in, but again it's another case of an actor becoming a real person in a film that just feels like it was made for awards. It's a total repeat of Bohemian Rhapsody last year: a good performance in a lacklustre film that will get recognition because the Oscars love a good likeness. And yeah, she's very good in Judy (which is not a good film), but rarely does she rise above just doing a Judy Garland impression, which is probably more down to the script being so surface level and plain, but still, I find it weird that this is what's sweeping this year. It's great to see Saoirse Ronan nominated again (especially because she's incredible in Little Women), because her turn as Jo is so assured and nuanced. She brings something new to an old story with a performance that's infused with a thoroughly modern magic. Scarlett Johansson is very good in Marriage Story, again perfectly balancing big-n'-small moments of emotion. She's particularly good at controlling the level of emotion in her voice, which is a small thing but a noticeable one. It's a little detail but it makes the difference, and it's to the credit of Johansson that this isn't even the best performance she's nominated for this year

Obviously, there's snubs here too. Awkwafina in The Farewell is a big one, especially because of the love she got at the Golden Globes. Actually, seeing that film get completely ignored at the Oscars has been a particular shock, but seeing its ace lead get totally snubbed is especially ridiculous. The same goes for Lupita Nyong'o in Us, who gives not one but two unbelievable performances. Sadly, that's not a surprise, given that the Oscars are totally blind when it comes to horror. Which brings me to my favourite performance in a 2019 film, Florence Pugh's performance in Midsommar, who gives such a demandingly emotional turn, so intense and engaged and empathetic that even just watching her is utterly draining. It's one of the most emotionally involved performances I've ever seen, and just like Toni Collette in Hereditary, is further proof that, although Ari Aster is directing the best performances in modern horror, his films still get routinely snubbed because they're somehow not "real films". I don't know, I just don't think this kind of elitism is healthy in film awards. And that's seen with comedies again, like Thomasin McKenzie in Jojo Rabbit and Ana de Armas in Knives Out. McKenzie's snub is particularly frustrating because after not being nominated for her insanely fantastic performance in Leave No Trace, she's being ignored again for her wonderful performance in Taika Waititi's incredible, irreverent satire. As for Ana de Armas, she's the heart and soul of Knives Out, and her presence is what elevates that film from being really good to being excellent

Supporting Actor is again not hugely surprising. I haven't seen A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood yet (nor do I know anything about Mr Rogers), but I've heard Tom Hanks embodies the man he's playing really well. The weakest link here is Anthony Hopkins in The Two Popes, who's fine, if kind of just playing a weird, broadly-drawn caricature of Pope Benedict. It's probably the weakest nominated performance I've seen actually, so weirdly just doing an impression of someone that you forget how good Hopkins can be at his best. He stumbles his way through the film, giving a performance that is ultimately just alright. Pacino and Pesci are definitely going to split the vote here, but I'm still really happy to see them both nominated. Pesci's quietly chilling performance is a great departure from the loudmouthed gangsters he's known for playing, and even if his chances aren't great, it's still awesome to see him get recognised. Pacino gives maybe the best performance in this category, bringing bravado to his turn as Jimmy Hoffa, stubborn and difficult and an absolute force of nature when he gets going. His rousing shout of "Where are we gonna go but UP!" is one of my favourite line deliveries of 2019, but even in the quiet moments, he absolutely sells it here. But yeah, the Oscar is absolutely Brad Pitt's. Which is fair enough. I love Cliff Booth, and I think he's the best thing in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and I think Pitt gives a charismatic, breezy performance that makes the considerable run time absolutely speed by. I'm just happy that he's finally going to be recognised after almost three decades of varied, consistently interesting performances

And yeah, there's oversights. I didn't love Waves (really liked it though!), but I thought that Sterling K. Brown was fantastic, a strong, initially domineering but progressively vulnerable presence, and the way he gradually strips back these layers was fantastic. There's also Chris Evans in Knives Out, who's so delightfully dickish, and gives such a wonderful showcase of what he can do post-MCU. Watching him cut loose like this is just so damn entertaining, another reminder that the Oscars NEED to recognise great comedy performances more. There's also Ray Liotta and Alan Alda in Marriage Story, both giving small but crucial performances that squeeze in so much brilliance in such a short span of time.

Supporting Actress is kind of great this year. Okay yeah, I haven't seen Richard Jewell or Bombshell so I can't comment on Kathy Bates or Margot Robbie, but the three I have seen are all fantastic. Laura Dern is the front runner here, and yeah, she's kind of great, especially nailing how her character expertly alternates between faux-warm and absolute viciousness. I'll be honest, great as Dern is, the fact that she's sweeping is kind of surprising for me, because I actually think that the other two performances I've seen are better, but still, this is top-tier work from Dern, and it is great to see her get her due. It's also great to see Florence Pugh get some recognition for Little Women, which she is absolutely ace in, and getting a nomination seems like the perfect way to cap off the Year of the Pugh. But it's Scarlett Johansson who gives my favourite performance of this lineup in Jojo Rabbit. At the end of the day, her performance is just a mother trying to save her son, and the amount of love and humour that she just exudes here is crazy. The amount of defiant compassion in this performance is awe inspiring, and she is absolutely the heart and soul of Jojo Rabbit

And of course, they've left some cracking performances out. Most obvious is J-Lo in the absolutely ace Hustlers, who gives this bravura turn, tough and tender, cunning and caring, hard but so, so human. She really should be nominated. Actually, let me try again. She should probably win. She's unbelievable in Hustlers and the fact that she's not nominated is crazy to me. And then there's Taylor Russell in Waves, who is without a doubt the best thing in it. Without giving too much away about Waves, the shift in perspective from Kelvin Harrison Jr. to her is great, and it's in the second half that it really gets good, and so much of that is down to Russell's incredibly empathetic performance. And then there's Octavia Spencer in Luce, and Naomi Harris in Luce, and kind of everything else in Luce, it's a great film that found itself completely ignored. Spencer and Harris in particular give fantastic turns, both acing concern and worry in two very different ways. And guys, watch Luce. And hey, what about Laura Dern in Little Women? Yeah she's up for Marriage Story, but guys. Guys. She's just as good (maybe a little better), as the infinitely warm matriarch of the March clan.

So, that's the acting categories, what about direction? Yeah, it's a good lineup. I mean, it (once again) completely ignores all of the female-helmed films that came out in 2019 (Little Women, of course, but also Hustlers, Atlantics, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood, Booksmart, The Farewell, Honey Boy and a boatload of others). But aside from that, it's not a bad lineup. Scorsese and Tarantino were givens, but hey, they did make some of their best work in 2019, with films that feel like culminations of their respective careers. The work they did on The Irishman and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood instantly ranks among their best, and both of these films were year defining releases, so seeing them get recognised as such is only fitting. Oh, and speaking of 2019-defining, why is Todd Philips nominated for Joker? It's not even that I don't like the film, it's that his direction is not, in any way, remarkable. It's way too imitation Scorsese for me, and not in the way that something like Hustlers, where it's tipping its cap to Goodfellas. No, Joker is a skin-deep take on Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy, and there is nothing that Todd Philips does to make it feel any different. Sam Mendes is probably going to win it anyway, and... yeah. 1917 is a masterclass of filmmaking, so that makes sense. His flowing construction of the action is so rhythmic and enthralling, using the technical aspects to ground the emotion, making what could have felt like an experiment suddenly feel thrilling and human, and real. And then of course, I can't comment on Bong Joon-Ho with Parasite, but from what I've heard he's definitely worthy, and if his work there is as good as his other stuff, he very much deserves the nod

So now for the screenplay awards.. For original, there's Knives Out, Marriage Story, 1917, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and Parasite. No wrong answers here. Rian Johnson subverts the hell out of the murder mystery in Knives Out, relishing in the thrill of storytelling while delivering some of the best dialogue of the year ("A donut hole in a donut's hole"), Baumbach mines the messiness of divorce with some of the most painful dialogue of the year ("I never really came alive for myself. I was only feeding his aliveness"), Sam Mendes aces a screenplay that prioritises action over dialogue but makes sure to make every sentence that is spoken resonate ("I didn't think it would be this"), and Tarantino explores himself and his own relationship with cinema in one of the year's most endlessly quotable films ("When you come to the end of the line, with a buddy who is more than a brother and a little less than a wife, getting blind drunk together is really the only way to say farewell"). It's a good lineup for sure. 

As for adapted, I've seen all of the movies, but haven't read any of the source materials. Still, as scripts go, these are (almost) all crackers. I mean yeah, I'll get it out of the way, Joker's the weak link, so strangely written and so uncomfortable, and not in the way it wants to be ("They think that we'll just sit there and take it, like good little boys! That we won't werewolf and go wild!"). Who says stuff like that? The hell does that even mean? Jojo Rabbit sees Taika Waititi make an existing story his own, with sharp, consistently hilarious dialogue ("Definitely not a good time to be a Nazi"). It's so tonally assured, bouncing between hilarity and heartbreak, imbued with the kind of sincerity that is uniquely Waititi. Little Women is exactly what an adaptation of a classic novel should be, maintaining the spirit of the original text while also taking a modern approach, not reinventing Louisa May-Alcott's novel so much as applying its themes to now and exploring why they still matter. The dialogue is crisp, full of warmth and deftly written ("You will be bored of him in two years and we will be interesting forever"). And then there's The Irishman, in which Martin Scorsese takes the Jimmy Hoffa story, approaches it from a different angle, and makes it feel like the film his career has been leading up to since Goodfellas. I love how low-key the dialogue is, how snappy and sharp it is without feeling flashy, although there is still a cracking wit to the script ("Whenever anybody says they're a little concerned, they're very concerned"). And then there's The Two Popes, which is fine. Funnier than I thought it'd be, but still very much a typical Oscar script ("When no one is to blame, everyone is to blame")

For best International Film, I still haven't seen any of the nominees. Interesting to see a documentary nominated with Honeyland, though. This is probably going to go to Parasite, which seems fair enough. I have heard good things about Pain and Glory, Les Misérables and Corpus Christie, even if none of them have a chance of beating Parasite. From what I can see, it's a strong enough category, though the omission of Portrait of a Lady on Fire seems strange, because it is getting so much acclaim

My thoughts on Best Documentary are similarly narrow. I haven't seen American Factory, Honeyland, The Edge of Democracy or The Cave, but I have seen Waad Al-Kateab's wonderful, heartbreaking, deeply moving For Sama. If that won, it'd be fantastic, because it's such a human look at the stories that are never told, honing in on the people trying to live their lives in times of conflict. It's an astonishing piece of work that everyone should see, and to see it nominated is awesome. I am slightly disappointed that the absolutely bonkers Hail Satan? isn't recognised, because that's one wild ride, silly, irreverent and ultimately really thought-provoking. It's a strange subject matter delightfully realised, and if it missed you, do watch it. It's definitely worth your time

Animated Feature is a fascinating category this year. How to Train Your Dragon 3 aside, there's some really good stuff here. And it's not that Dreamworks' trilogy closer is bad- it's definitely one of the best looking animated films of last year- but it's just so forgettable and honestly quite dull. The Lego Movie 2 would have been a better shout if you ask me. Still, Toy Story 4 is a strong contender, Pixar back firing on all cylinders to deliver the film that nobody wanted but everyone needed. The Oscars love Pixar (like everyone else), so a win here wouldn't be unexpected or undeserved, but what excites me here is the three other nominees. Missing Link was an unremarkable story paired with some unbelievably gorgeous stop-motion, and as a feat of animation, it's as impressive as anything Laika's ever done. Its Globe win was an unexpected delight, and seeing it take home the Oscar would be a great win for a routinely snubbed studio. And then there are my two favourites. I Lost My Body is gorgeous, combining silent-cinema charm with eye-wateringly beautiful animation, and I'm over the moon that it got nominated. Same for Klaus, which was one of my biggest surprises of last year, wonderfully animated and utterly delightful, probably the best looking of this lineup. It's one of the coolest Christmas films I've ever seen, and either it or I Lost My Body would be my ideal winners here

So yeah, the Oscars lineup this year is alright. There are some nominations I really agree with, some a little less so, but still, I think mostly it's okay. What will actually win on the night remains to be seen, but one thing's for sure: it's going to be an incredibly interesting watch