Top 100 Films of the 21st Century (Four Year Anniversary Special)- Part 2 (90-81)

 90. Attack the Block (2011- Joe Cornish)

In an era where it's become too easy to blame young people for... well, everything, Joe Cornish's wonderful throwback sci-fi/horror hybrid proved that the kids were indeed alright. Pitting his teen heroes against ace, semi-practical creatures in a sharply funny genre piece is one thing, but doing so while imbuing the film with such a distinctly London flavour and making the whole thing a showcase for some incredible young talent (John Boyega among them) is on a whole other level. In Cornish's hands, the future's bright, and that optimism hits hard, now more than ever

The High Point: Moses and co. blasting the creatures with fireworks

89. Knives Out (2019- Rian Johnson)

After saving the Star Wars saga/ ruining your childhood and indeed your life (depending on who you ask) with The Last Jedi, Rian Johnson was back with Knives Out, a tangled web of secrets and lies turned deadly, brought to life by one of the finest ensembles in recent memory. It's a love-letter to a genre, sealed with the arsenic-laced kiss of biting social commentary. Knives Out is a bonafide blockbuster that has its cake (donut?) and eats it too, expertly pairing forensic plotting with crowd-pleasing thrills. Devilishly good fun

The High Point: Or should that be the Hugh point? Best. Foreshadowing. Ever.

 88. Fish Tank (2009-Andrea Arnold)

Gritty, bleak and uncompromisingly brutal, Fish Tank is as harrowing a piece of cinema as anything we've gotten in the last 20 years. Paradoxically, it also might be one of the most affirming. Andrea Arnold's kitchen-sink drama is a portrait of life at its most desolate and unmerciful, featuring career-defining turns from Michael Fassbender and especially Katie Jarvis. It's a film that asks "what do you do when you never had a chance?" The answer? Keep going anyway.

The High Point: A final, heartbreaking dance between mother and daughters

87. Collateral (2004-Michael Mann)

LA has long been crime cinema's favourite playground, and while we could sit around arguing about the best thriller set in the city of angels, it's a fool's errand, so how about we just agree that Collateral is by far the most haunting? A nocturnal odyssey through an arena of sins and lies, Collateral is a film that seems wrong itself, unnatural, like a cry of frustrated honesty against a world that seeks to corrupt. And yet it's Jamie Foxx's Max and his inflexible morality that keep Collateral afloat, that urge the audience that the light is yet to come. It's his best role this century, ditto for a venomous Tom Cruise

The High Point: Locked in a meeting with Javier Bardem's fearsome Felix, Max lets loose

86. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010-Apichatpong Weerasethakul )

If film is a tool to understand ourselves and the universe we live in, then Uncle Boonmee is a mirror into something that might not even exist. It looks into the past, the present and the future, charting the shape of the human spirit as a dying man looks back at the different incarnations his soul has taken. It's surreal, funny and deeply sensual, subtle but immensely powerful. It also doesn't make sense- not as a story anyway. Instead UBWCRHPL plays as a symphony of feeling, like a filmmaker coming to terms with the inevitable decline of things and the unknowable matter of what comes next. And considering Apichatpong Weerasethakul insisted on shooting on 16mm over digital photography, that's not impossible

The High Point: Fish

85. Tyrannosaur (2011-Paddy Considine)

Seven years after co-writing the script for Dead Man's Shoes, Paddy Considine stepped behind the camera for Tyrannosaur, an expansion of his short film Dog Altogether and one of the most incendiary debuts of the last ten years. Refusing to fall back on style, Tyrannosaur is direct, raw and visceral, an honest and open discussion on cycles of violence and the destruction left in their wake. Tyrannosaur isn't a cry for help but a plea for kindness, as emotionally naked as drama gets. Eddie Marsan is terrifying, Olivia Colman is heartbreaking and Peter Mullan is the best he's ever been

The High Point: "It was a joke name" Joseph sighs as he uneasily explains the film's title

84. Pulse (2001-Kiyoshi Kurosawa)

Pulse came in on the wave of late 90s J-horror that took the world by storm (Think Ringu, Audition and Kurosawa's own Cure), mingling with the advent of the internet to create a uniquely eerie experience. And while other early-web shockers come up shonky when revisited, Pulse's portrait of a world that's so connected yet so crushingly lonely packs such a sting 19 years later. The technology may have dated in places but the horrible curiosity of Pulse has been preserved so well, undoubtedly because of the film's sinister atmosphere and an approach to the internet that feels more thematic than literal. All this time later, it's still skin-crawlingly creepy and gut-wrenchingly sad

The High Point: Junko just.... disappears

83. Sightseers (2012- Ben Wheatley)

Ben Wheatley's third film went deeper than his trademark deconstructions of genre; this was a demolition of an entire pastime. Carry on Camping it ain't. Sightseers plays like Nuts in May's perverted younger cousin, undoubtedly made from the same DNA but just kind of.... off. Thankfully, this is a good thing, a bizarre horror-comedy brought to life by the words and performances of a never better Alice Lowe and Steve Oram. It'd put you off camping for life if it wasn't so darkly hilarious

The High Point: The ending. Oops

82. Night is Short, Walk on Girl (2017-Masaaki Yuasa)

It's rare for films about partying to feel as fun as the revelry they're trying to capture, but Night is Short Walk on Girl comes damn close. Following a nameless girl over a night of binge drinking and general chaos, Night is Short is a heady trip that features gorgeous simplistic animation and brilliantly madcap comedy. The energy is undeniable and the go-for-broke pace is irresistible, but what really makes this film sing is its genuinely magical approach to chance and circumstance, celebrating the life-changing situations we stumble into. Trust me, you won't forget this one when morning comes

The High Point: The black-haired girl out-drinks a god

81. Happy Go-Lucky (2008-Mike Leigh)

True to his reputation as the quintessential poet of the everyday, Mike Leigh's nineteenth film is an expertly observed comedy, wrapped tightly around the ever-glorious presence that is Sally Hawkins. Happy-Go-Lucky feels real but it also feels good, rejecting kitchen-sink bleakness in favour of celebrating the real heroes: the ordinary people who can just keep smiling through it all. There's such an energy to Happy-Go-Lucky, a distinct personality that radiates out of the screen that could convert even the most hardened cynic into a true believer of the goodness of people

The High Point: En-ra-ha!

 

My Thoughts on I'm Thinking of Ending Things

 

Charlie Kaufman is back with I'm Thinking of Ending Things, a psychological horror charting a doomed relationship, and an adaptation of Ian Reid's 2016 novel . It follows Jessie Buckley as a young woman who's Thinking of Ending Things with Jake (Jesse Plemons), her pleasant, if slightly eccentric boyfriend. That she's considering this en route to his parents' house before she meets them for the first time is just the start of what promises to be a long, strange night. A new Kaufman project is always cause for celebration, not just because of their scarcity, but because every script he pens (in this case for the screen) is its own kind of puzzle box, every detail simultaneously elusive and yet impossible to resist interrogating.

It goes without saying that this film won't work for everyone, especially as it delves further and further into the surreal. The truth is that it's psychological horror at its most literal, which is to say it's a film about the terror of human consciousness. Kaufman substitutes shocks and scares for contradictions and inconsistencies, forcing the viewer to doubt every detail that the film makes a point of establishing. Again, it's bound to weed out the impatient, but part of this film's charm is that steadily building discomfort, difficult to watch but much harder not to. This is made even better by the film's queasy sense of humour, which is so paralyzingly unfunny that it makes every moment that much harder to bear. 

It's hardly a stretch for Kaufman stylistically or thematically, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Every film he makes feels like he's tunneling further into his own psyche; Eternal Sunshine dissected an imploding relationship and Anomalisa portrayed a character lost in the fog of their own waning grip on reality, but I'm Thinking of Ending Things feels like the point in his filmography where all of his pet themes are starting to blend into one gorgeously bleak idea. He's doubling down on the things that make him such a unique storyteller, and if the result is hard to understand then I think that's kind of the point. Suggesting that any of these images or ideas has any one meaning just doesn't feel right, and yet they're done with so much nuance that two people could argue for days about any of them (the pig, the dog, the ice-cream) and both of them could be correct on some level. It's a film that invites discussion and dissection and it's likely that, in years to come, we'll still be arguing about what any of the symbolism means.

In fact, if I had one reservation with I'm Thinking of Ending Things, it's that Kaufman goes too abstract on the home stretch. No spoilers, but the last 30 minutes sees a change in the story's focal point, so that instead of being about one character, it really turns out to have been exploring someone else the whole time. The issue is that, in doing this, the film relies heavily on surreal imagery and dream logic, but with much less of a tether to reality as before. The probelm isn't that it doesn't make sense- that goes with the territory- but that it doesn't feel as narratively consistent with the film that preceded it. 

There's such a notable shift in direction without enough time to properly develop it or make it feel that it has any sort of bearing on everything that was set up so well. If anything, maybe it's too clever, going so deep into the psychological that it feels at odds with the slow, sustained build of tension from before. Maybe the best comparison would be Eraserhead, another film that ventures so far into the world of dreams that applying any sort of rational thought to it just feels futile.

But again, that's perhaps to be expected from one of the most cerebral and challenging filmmakers working today. The beauty of I'm Thinking of Ending Things is in how abstract it is. It is frustrating, it is inconsistent and it doesn't need to make sense to get its point across. Maybe I'd have preferred the narrative inconsistencies and slowly escalating dread to continue through the entire runtime instead of a sudden, incredibly dense barrage of symbolism in the last ten minutes, but up to that point, I'm Thinking of Ending Things is by far one of the year's standouts. I'll admit, I loved the film but hated the experience of watching it, but that feels like the point. It's pure thought translated into cinema, and even if it trips up slightly in its home stretch, there's more than enough meaning packed into it to keep it from missing the mark. It's a really interesting piece of work that's at its best when it lets these long, often contradictory scenes of dialogue just play out, with a good part of the film's midsection being some of the most thrilling scenes of the year. I've only seen it once, and maybe I'd benefit from a revisit, but I can't help but feel that's intentional too, like the film burrows into your subconscious and grows with every subsequent rewatch. And if that's the case, I can't wait to see my thoughts develop over time

★ ★ ★ ★

My Thoughts on The Babysitter: Killer Queen

 

I suppose I should preface this by talking about how I felt about the first Babysitter movie, and cards on the table, it didn't do anything for me. Not at first, anyway. No, my initial viewing of the film was marred by what I can only assume was an aversion to fun, and so when I revisited the film a few months ago, I was overjoyed to discover that I was very, very wrong. The Babysitter is a real blast, genre-savvy and over-the-top stylised, held together by an ace Samara Weaving performance. It knows what it is and it works within its style and genre to become something more than what it advertised, I'd recommend it wholeheartedly, especially as a gateway film for those looking to sink their teeth into the genre more. The news of a sequel didn't exactly fill me with confidence (despite the open ending), but having been converted into a fan by the first film's gory charms, I actually found myself looking forward to it. So how does The Babysitter: Killer Queen stack up to the surprise horror gem of 2017?

Spoiler alert: it doesn't. Not entirely anyway. I'll elaborate on why I found this so disappointing later, but for now, let's talk about the story. The plot once again follows Judah Lewis' Cole, recovering from what happened two years before in the way that only slasher protagonists do, which is to say that nobody believes him and everyone thinks he's crazy. Business as usual then, until an attempt to just be a normal teenager goes awry on a trip to the lake that once again sees him fight for his life against the same cult from the first film, now suspiciously more alive than when we last saw them. 

I'll say right now that this plot doesn't work at all. It takes a lot of contrivances and regularly defies its own logic, which is kind of a disappointment for a film where the hero learns that taking the easy way out is rarely the right thing to do. The big shocks are certainly effective but suffer from a serious inability to make any sense whatsoever. I'll keep the spoilers to a minimum so as not to get sacrificed myself, but the first big twist in this film just doesn't sit right with me. It makes for a thrilling, interesting plot, but it's hard to buy considering what the first film lay down. I can forgive it somewhat because as a catalyst it does make for an interesting story, but even still it's the first of many bizarre leaps in logic that the film makes

Of course the big twist won't be spoiled here. No, not the one that's in the trailer for some reason, but what comes after that. What I will say is that it's one of the most ham-fisted reveals in recent memory. Not only does it completely undermine this film, it kind of spoils the first one, too. For as much fun as this film is, ultimately it just isn't a satisfying story at all, completely and surprisingly undoing itself in a climax that feels like it's being written on the spot

Not that it's all bad either. They certainly had more fun with the gore this time around, because the kills in Babysitter 2 are insane. Creative, well-executed and oftentimes hilarious, the ways that characters are offed ends up becoming the film's saving grace. Speaking of the jokes, it's also really funny. Not as funny as the first film, and definitely not as charming, but the jokes aren't bad here at all. They don't do much to save the film, but they at least make it fun. And speaking of fun, the cast are by far the best thing about this movie, and it's clear that everyone involved had an absolute blast, which turns out to be infectious 

Newcomer Jenna Ortega is probably the MVP here, taking to the film's ultra-specific tone with absolute ease. My favourite of the old guard is still Robbie Amell, going full-douchebag once more and actually outdoing himself this time around. Apart from that, there aren't too many standouts. Yeah, I said the cast are the best thing here, but they mainly just ensure that the experience is fun and the tone is consistent, which it definitely is. They're solid across the board, and apart from the two I mentioned, none of them really outdo any of the others

So no, The Babysitter: Killer Queen is not a great film, on its own or as a sequel. It's not unwatchable, and given my history with the first one I could benefit from trying it again, but fun as it is it just doesn't hold up to any sort of scrutiny. It lacks the kind of internal logic that kept the original afloat, so it just feels kind of makeshift, employing any story beat kind of on the spot in its rush towards its messy (on every level) climax. So yeah, it gives me no pleasure to say it's a damp squib, although, who knows? Maybe in another three years I'll change my mind

★ ★

Top 100 Films of the 21st Century (Four Year Anniversary Special)- Part 1 (100-91)

 We're just about one fifth of the way through the 21st Century, and I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood to take stock of things. The last 20 years in cinema have been huge, with trends coming and going like nobody's business. I mean, take the term "cinematic universe" for instance. Where once shared canonical ground was just something that existed in a director's body of work or some sort of dodgy crossover, now universe-sized franchises are celebrated. Expected, even. But I won't bemoan franchise dominance and brand recognition too much It has its place, and blockbuster cinema has definitely been  impacted, and not entirely for the worse 

And while I won't rhyme off every trend in the last two decades and discuss its effect on cinema, it's impossible not to take notice of them when you step back for a second and look at everything that's happened in that space of time. Apart from the MCU and its shared-universe ilk, there's the rise of CGI with its use in everything from blockbuster epics (Avatar) to somber dramas (The Irishman). There's also the impact of the internet; as the world becomes smaller, access to international and independent cinema becomes much easier. That's changed the game in its own way, with most of the best, most successful cinema right now coming from outside of Hollywood. Just look at the impeccable selection of titles that have come out of South Korea in the last few years

And what about the word itself? "Cinema". What is it? It's a question that's found itself up for discussion recently, as old masters criticised the current crop of superhero outings, but even before that, Cannes' refusal to show Netflix films in competition was an indication that regardless of how the old guard responded to it, the medium was moving on

And it continues to do so. Cinema will keep changing as this century progresses, undoubtedly as a result of the shifts that have already taken place since 2000, so consider this something of a time capsule. For my fourth anniversary, I want to look back, to celebrate the best that two decades of film have to offer. A tough task for sure, but one that I've found immense pleasure in undertaking. I should say right now that it wasn't easy. There was a lot of deliberating, watching, rewatching and obsessively fussing over the order. Some great films missed the cut, to say nothing of the ones I haven't seen. As for ranking them, that brought its own challenges. You might disagree with my choices, or their order, and if you want to let me know your own favourite films from the 21st century, feel free to do so. Film is a community thing, now more than ever, so let's get a discussion started

So save your "they don't make them like they used to", because if the last 20 years have taught us anything, it's that cinema is in great shape. As good as its ever been, if you ask me. And although it remains to be seen whether the following hundred films have the longevity to match their quality, it's undeniable that this is one hell of a bunch of films. So dive in and enjoy this, my top 100 films of the 21st century 

One quick warning: this list may contain spoilers in The High Point section, so maybe skip that if you haven't seen the film

100. Southland Tales (2006- Richard Kelly)

Richard Kelly's follow-up to Donnie Darko opened to a ghastly reaction at Cannes and currently finds itself sitting at a less-than glowing 39% percent on Rotten Tomatoes. It's a mess, a hodge-podge of characters and themes clashing with utterly ridiculous imagery (flying ice-cream van?), and yet when all of its imperfect parts combine, it becomes one of the most bizarrely compelling films of the last two decades. Kelly's ambition is huge, and his take on mid-2000s America- a post-9/11 nation left obsessed with celebrity and questioning its very identity- is irresistible, pure creativity that's preserved this film well enough that it's starting to receive a long-overdue reappraisal. It's about time.

The High Point:  Justin Timberlake woozily lip-syncing his way through The Killers' `All These Things That I've Done

99. The Artist (2011- Michel Hazanavicius)

The Artist arrived to us from another era, not so much a tribute to the dream machine of silent Hollywood as a piece of modern magic haunted by ghosts of old. It's a passionate film to be sure, but the unique alchemy of The Artist goes beyond simple nostalgia, undercutting its dewy-eyed reverence with a playful mischief that subverts its Oscar-bait image. The result of this is romance without romanticisation, a film that delivers both crowd-pleasing delights alongside its musings on the blurry line between life and art. The toast of the 84th Academy Awards, it's proof positive that actions speak louder than words

The High Point: "Cut!"- the silence is finally broken

98. Inherent Vice (2014- Paul Thomas Anderson)

After The Master's careful study of the human soul, PTA loosened the coils for his shambolic stoner epic, a woozy study of the end of an era. It's a film that forces the viewer to get lost, urging you to look away from the plot for a bit and just enjoy the scenery. Inherent Vice is a grand maze of a film, a richly layered mystery tale that gains a little more with each year that passes. It revealed a side of the San Fernando auteur that lay previously unseen, woolier, weirder and more wigged-out than anything he had shown us before

The High Point:  Doc's frenzied escape from his captors

97. It Follows (2014- David Robert Mitchell)

Sex and horror have long been inseparable bedfellows, and David Robert Mitchell's dread-soaked shocker celebrates their relationship with unnerving intensity. It's sparse and confrontational, a constant escalation of tension that cuts open the horrors of sexual intimacy and studies the murky, disturbing truths that slither out. Mitchell famously denied any one interpretation of the film, which is apt, because like `It`, the true meaning of the piece generates feverish terror no matter what shape it takes

The High Point: The inexplicable naked man on the roof

96. The Lives of Others (2006- Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)

Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck's debut(!) is an interrogation of a country's past, a moral tale and a devastatingly human story about compassion found in the strangest of places all in one. A weighty piece of cinema with a lot on its mind, The Lives of Others is a political thriller through and through, thrillingly punctuated with jolts of love. So fiendishly plotted and meticulously composed that it really is hard to overstate how impressive it is that it's his first film, or how unbelievable it is that the same man would churn out The Tourist just four years later

The High Point: Weisler urges his mark's girlfriend not to go through with her affair, risking his cover in the process

95. Moonrise Kingdom (2012- Wes Anderson)

For his seventh film, Wes Anderson recreated the huge emotions of childhood romance, crafting a storybook world for his runaway heroes to inhabit and explore. Moonrise Kingdom feels instantly familiar, lovingly sculpted out of pure nostalgia so that watching it feels like opening the pages of a book you haven’t read in years. It’s here where the wisdom of an adult Wes mingles with the passionate idealism of his inner boy-scout, resulting in a, wistful, warm living memory

The high point: Sam and Suzie’s confrontation with the scouts sent to track him down

94. Lars and the Real Girl (2007- Craig Gillespie)

“Ryan Gosling falls for a sex doll” is not the most bankable premise for a film, but Craig Gillespie’s soulful indie makes a case for the contrary. Less a Gos-led grotfest and more a story of a community banding together to take care of one of its most vulnerable members, Lars and the Real Girl wrings warmth from the most unlikely of places. It’s an affirming reminder that it’s the most unexpected of situations that tend to bring out the best in us

The high point: Bianca’s funeral, where a twee premise suddenly gains huge emotional weight

93. A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence (2014- Roy Andersson)

Capping off his Living trilogy in style, Roy Andersson was on typically idiosyncratic form with this hare-brained comic anthology, a strange, slowly unfolding saga of the human soul. If that sounds dreary and well, not very funny, then it really can’t be overstated how sharply chaotic Andersson’s sense of humour is and how well it punctuates the static camera, long-take, grey n’ brown insanity. Who knew the mundane could be so much fun?

The high point: The rousing sing-song in Limping Lotta’s bar in Gothenburg. Goes on for ages but keeps the fun going for every minute

92. Mother (2009- Bong Joon-ho)

Before he took the world by storm with Parasite, Bong Joon-ho wove a similarly intricate tale of the ties that bind and the sins we commit in the name of family. Kim Hye-ja was spellbinding as a woman desperately trying to clear her son’s name in a thriller that was at once expansive and taut. In typical Bong fashion, it was the sly humour and meticulous detail that lingered after the credits rolled. Mother is a slow-burn towards an inevitable truth, and the result is devastating

The High Point: Mother dances hypnotically through a field of wheat

91. The Raid (2011- Gareth Evans)

At a time when Hollywood was churning out legions of Bourne-lite actioners, Gareth Evans went to Indonesia for his thumping film following a police raid on a gangster’s high-rise fortress. Mean, lean and uncompromisingly violent, it marked a watershed moment in modern action cinema, expertly carried by leading man Iko Uwais. Even with the sequel and the similarly ace The Night Comes For Us, The Raid still feels utterly singular almost a decade later

The High Point: The two-on-one brawl, where a pair of brothers take on Mad Dog

My Thoughts on Tenet

 

The first major theatrical blockbuster in a post-Covid world, it's only natural that all eyes are on Tenet. A new Nolan release is guaranteed to attract serious heat anyway, but the director's staunch refusal to delay the film's release date has turned it into the cinematic talking point of the year. And while its temporal musings have proven divisive, it's quite possible that this could be Nolan's most ambitious project yet, conceptually but especially release-wise. So the question is this: is Tenet the film to get big-screen releases back on track?

Essentially following The Protagonist (an on-point John David Washington), a CIA agent sent on a mission to prevent WW3, Tenet is broadly a spy film, albeit one intricately infused with Nolan's knack for time-centric cinema. The film is firmly rooted in its action, which is undoubtedly its greatest strength. The setpieces benefit from the combination of forward flowing and inverted time, and it's a joy to see previously introduced ideas take on new meaning as the plot progresses. One central car chase that's nail-biting gold on first pass gains a greater level of resonance upon repetition, a spoiler-free example of a narrative device that becomes more and more impactful every time it's used. And while the reversed time aspect may sound confusing when explained in the first act's seemingly endless exposition, it's surprisingly elegant in practice, proof that the real strength of Tenet's storytelling is in its visuals

See, the plot of Tenet isn't actually all that complicated, and unlike other Nolan fare such as Interstellar or Memento, it lacks an emotional core for the high concept to hinge itself on. Thankfully, this isn't necessarily a bad thing, with the film playing out as a breakneck ballet moving in two different directions at once and excelling as a piece of action storytelling rather than any sort of interrogation of the human experience. That said, the juxtaposition of the relatively basic story and the complex concept does mean that Tenet comes up a little light in terms of substance, an issue not helped by the constant stream of exposition, made worse by the film's sound design, where a good chunk of the dialogue ends up being just about unintelligible. The sound brings another issue with it too: This film is LOUD. I won't go so far as to label the sound mixing unfinished, but it is uneven, and the experience of the film loses a fair bit because of it

But as a piece of blockbuster cinema, Tenet is as good as anything we've gotten in the past year, expertly marrying a high-concept with Nolan's reliably strong ability to craft IMAX-worthy spectacle. Basic as the plot may be, its individual components end up being more than the sum of their parts. Kenneth Branagh's menacing Russian baddie, for instance, seems like a caricature on paper but ends up giving the film's conflict real weight and immediacy- not just something for the heroes to fight, but something to fight against: a human manifestation of a bigger idea that makes unlikely victory seem possible because it's suddenly become human. The same is true of Elizabeth Debicki and her gangster's moll, who undeniably suffers from Nolan's chronic inability to write a convincing female character but ends up softening the film's cold, objective edge, ultimately allowing the conclusion to resonate, adding satisfaction and weight to what might otherwise have been purely emotionless and functional

Ultimately, Tenet just about meets its lofty ambitions, a heady, large-scale blockbuster that warrants rewatches backwards and forwards. It's clear Nolan has a lot on his mind, with this film feeling like an extension of a man who's been vocal about his concern for the future. What it lacks in its narrative and loses with its chaotic sound design it easily makes back with intricate, well-crafted action and a satisfying eternal logic. And while it doesn't reach the heady heights of Dunkirk or the Dark Knight trilogy, it does mark a triumphant return for both cinema's most fastidious intellectual and the screens he yearns to pour his dreams onto. And you really can't ask for more than that

★ ★ ★ ★

Top 10 Films of 2020 So Far

I feel kind of weird doing this list, because of everything that's been postponed, and also everything that I've missed, but all the same, 2020 has had some good new releases, and even if there's not a huge amount of them, I do think they're worth celebrating. Again, there's an awful lot I haven't seen, like King of Staten Island and Birds of Prey and Onward and First Cow and Never Rarely Sometimes Always and The Vast of Night and... y'know, maybe it's quicker to list what I have seen. And that's what this is, because at the time of writing this, I've only seen 10 films from 2020. And fortunately, I like them all quite a bit. Don't be fooled by the lack of new releases I've seen: everything on this list is a 6 or higher, and I'd genuinely recommend checking them all out. So yeah, let's celebrate some (all) of the movies I've loved this year. 

10. VFW

VFW is not a big, clever film, nor an especially complex one. What it is though, is pure, unadulterated, grindhouse fun. The film is a nasty, gore-heavy splatfest that makes full use of its single location, the kind of delightful midnight vibe cut from the same cloth as Mandy. There's genuine thrills, slightly stiff but generally endearing comedy and a charismatically gruff turn from Stephen Lang. It's straightforward but really, really fun, like Green Room without the subtext. It just about coasts by on its pure bloodthirsty charm, a passionately made film that doesn't do much to challenge the viewer. And if that's what you're looking for, you could do much worse than this

9. Ema

Pablo Larráin's 8th film is a wonderfully conducted dance of destruction; chaotic and passionate and bursting with energy. It's a film that operates at full thrust for its entire runtime, and although this go for broke approach hits a few snags, you have to admire the sheer consistency of the energy here. I mean, it's a drama about an imploding relationship that plays out like an hour and forty minute music video. The emotions here are big, loud and in full colour, arranged in a way that plays like a heady fusion of MTV and Almodóvar. The performances are also ace, especially that fearless leading turn by Mariana Di Girolamo. It's a real thrill, blowing up carefully studied emotions to huge proportions, and the result is absolutely fascinating

8. The Invisible Man

 

Leigh Whannell's reinvention of the 1933 classic was a deft change in direction for the Dark Universe, swapping the world-building mess of The Mummy for an intelligent and tense discussion of gaslighting and emotional abuse through the masterfully crafted tension. The thrills were slick and the shocks were plentiful, but what really resonates here is the sheer sense of danger that the film manages to keep up. The sustained level of emotional distress in this film is utterly insane, and it never once veers into melodrama or tries to imply the central relationship was anything but toxic. The result is one of the most effective horrors in recent memory

It's also the last film I saw in a cinema. God I miss going to the cinema

7. Weathering With You

Makoto Shinkai's beautiful eco-romance isn't quite as great as Your Name (honestly what is?) but it's still an utterly beautiful ode to the act of supporting the people we love. The gentle tone and easy, slice-of-life structure make for irresistibly charming viewing, a film so packed with detail and fueled by huge reservoirs of not just emotion, but feeling. Like Your Name, Weathering With You is a film that plays out like a life being lived right in front of your eyes. It's another slam dunk from the most consistently magical voice in anime right now

It's also got the score of the year

6. About Endlessness

2020 has proven to be an absurdist nightmare, so a new Roy Andersson couldn't have come at a better time. About Endlessness is 75 minutes of his signature prankish surrealism, which is as hilarious, heartbreaking and horrifying as ever. It's a series of screams at a world that seems to make less and less sense, and the fact that he does this while interrogating the existence of a higher power and delivering some of the silliest laughs of the year is no mean feat. He may not be an especially prolific filmmaker, but in a year where each day is increasingly becoming the same, he might just be one of the most necessary

5. The Half of It

Far from being just another Netflix teen rom-com, The Half of It stands out as being one of the smartest, most sensitive coming of agers I've seen in some time. No cliches, no easy punchlines, just an empathetic, clear-eyed take on a timeless tale. It's a film that takes its audience seriously, exploring the ideas of self-love and identity with deftly handled nuance and refreshing bittersweetness. It's a real treat, a heartfelt and poignant and deeply moving take on race and sexuality. More like this please

4. Da 5 Bloods

Spike Lee strikes again with his latest joint, a full-blooded, sweeping take on the conflicts that linger long after the war is fought. It's another beautifully angry and passionately delivered interrogation of America's past, with one of the finest ensembles of the year (Clarke Peters! Jonathon Majors! Chadwick Boseman!), the standout of which is an absolute belter of a performance from Delroy Lindo. It's a fine follow-up to Blackkklansman, swapping out that film's zeitgeisty sting for a kind of urgent hypnotism, lulling the audience into a heady tale of a nation and its never-ending war

3. First Love

Over one hundred films deep into his frankly insane career, Takashi Miike delivers a typically wild ride, surreal and frantic and violent and utterly hysterical. What's especially great about this one is its huge beating heart. It's his romantic comedy, and for all the beatdowns, exploding (toy) dogs and scantily clad ghosts, it does tell a really tender love story. By the time the chaos slows down, you realise just how much you care about the two leads. It leaves you craving more Miike craziness, and considering the size of the man's back catalogue, that's definitely not a problem

2. True History of the Kelly Gang

George McKay's golden run continues with his ace turn in Justin Kurzel's wonderfully revisionist retelling of the Ned Kelly story. It's a wonderfully liberal take on history, a reminder that it's not so much the story itself that matters, but the way we tell it. It's an incendiary piece of storytelling, a masterful combination of elemental cinema and delirious punk, brought to life by an incredible cast and a mastery of genre from Kurzel. It's deliciously radical poetry, forged in fire and packing a kind of venom that is both timely and timeless

1. Bacurau

An utterly singular fusion of moods and genres, Bacurau is unlike anything else. Sure, it wears its influences on its sleeve (Carpenter, Jodorowsky, Peckinpah), but the composition of its ideas and story beats is just absolutely seamless, a uniquely cinematic take on the sociopolitical issues of modern Brazil and Western entitlement and the uneasy feeling of being an outsider in your own community. That these ideas exist so comfortably together is a wonder; that they do so while the film they're in is also constructing such a compelling, masterfully rendered world while also providing sharp, violent thrills is a near miracle. It's a true wonder, an excellent piece of genre filmmaking that's so good that picking a standout scene is incredibly difficult, though special mention goes to that shift in perspective. It's the third film from Kleber Mendonça Filho, who's quickly establishing himself as one of the most exciting voices in cult cinema

Top 10 Shows of 2020 (So Far)

So we're about halfway through this awful, awful year, and for as much of a shitstorm that 2020 has been so far, TV has continued to shine as an invaluable escape. With a lot of films being postponed and delayed, it fell to the small screen to keep the content flow.... flowing, and it's safe to say it did. TV's role as a cultural forum has never felt more relevant than it does right now, and the combination of escapism and discussion it provides has proved to be the perfect balm. Hell, if the runaway success of Tiger King proved anything, it's that TV is an unrivaled tool when it comes to uniting people through discussion. So far we've seen great shows end, as well as some seriously exciting debuts. I think it's too early to judge the year as a whole, but the last six months have given us some truly great stuff, and I'd be remiss if I didn't run down my favourites in some way. I do still have some catching up to do here (I haven't watched all of Dead to Me or The Midnight Gospel just yet, and I still need to see Kingdom and The Plot Against America), but I think I'm in fairly good shape to rhyme off 10 shows I think have killed it in the first six months of the year. As always, keep an eye out for spoilers if you haven't seen a show

Quick honourable mentions before we begin to I Am Not Okay With This, Run and Inside No. 9, which have all been awesome but just about missed the cut. Anyway, shall we?

10. Never Have I Ever

In a world where teen comedies are a dime a dozen, Never Have I Ever feels like a real breath of fresh air. This is something that goes beyond the incredibly handled representation, although that undoubtedly makes the show one of the year's most significant right out of the gate. Never Have I Ever feels like a celebration of specificity, from its John McEnroe narration to its heroine's tragically particular backstory, but it excels at imbuing its quirks with so much heart, making every little story beat feel so true, so that nothing ever feels overly twee or out of place. It's also got an incredible lead performance from Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, who perfectly nails the balance between angst and heart. Even the show's message of appreciating yourself and the people around you feels fresh, re-energized by a voice that's so strong and so distinct and so wonderfully realised. This show is awesome, and that second season can't come soon enough

9. Sex Education

I really, really liked Sex Education's first season; it was fun, it was fresh, and it had an honesty and frankness in terms of its subject matter that made it immediately stand out. So it's safe to say I was pretty excited for its sophomore run, and oh man did it deliver. I mean talk about a glow-up. Sex Education bounds into its second season with so much more confidence. Everything just feels so much slicker this time around, like the show knows exactly what it needs to be and wastes no time going about becoming it. There's a much stronger sense of who these characters are now, and I especially love how everyone has something going on. A lot is happening in this season but no one feels short-changed, every character gets a moment to shine, and the show excels at balancing all of their plots. The way it handles its themes as well feels so important and so sensitive and so timely; it's hard thing think of a show on this list that feels more now. Sex Education went from good to great coming into its second season, and the result is one of the finest coming of agers in recent memory

8. Devs

Alex Garland is one of the most exciting storytellers right now, and his first foray into television is as blindingly brilliant as you'd expect. Devs is a labyrinthine exploration of humanity's relationship with the universe, as well as how we come to terms with our future and the responsibility we take in understanding the past. In true Garland fashion, he's not actually that interested in answering these massive questions, instead pondering on the nature of the questions themselves. It's a show that takes a lot of patience to unravel, and yet if you surrender yourself to it's utterly insane genius, the destination it arrives at is hugely rewarding. I'll admit I had some trouble with it at first, but the closer it gets to its conclusion, the more its musings start to resonate. So yeah, Devs isn't the most accessible show on this list, but trust me, if you like your sci-fi with a side of existentialism, and don't mind a lack of action in the lead up to a larger payoff, then I can't recommend it enough

7. Three Busy Debras

Three Busy Debras is the best show of the year about three women named Debra, and it had some stiff competition. Okay, this is by far the hardest show on the list to recommend, because it's so aggressively surreal and specific in its sense of humour, but if you're in the mood for something a little different, you'll definitely find it here. It's very much an Adult Swim show, with its easy to binge 11 minute episodes, immediately memeable humour, and delighfully experimental style, but I can't think of any other show in their catalogue that's hit the sweet spot for me as much as this one has, with the exception of the last season of Samurai Jack. It's a delight, singular and absurd and a ton of fun to watch (the ATM episode is one of the funniest installments of TV I've seen this year). I love it, a lot, and I think that Alyssa Stonoha, Sandy Honig and Mitra Jouhari are three of TV's strongest comic voices in ages. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to join the Cartwheel Club

6. Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist

Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist arrived like a mixtape of the best parts of other shows; a little Kimmy Schmidt here, some Crazy Ex-Girlfriend there, but it didn't take long for it to establish itself as something that is sorely needed in 2020: pure, unabashed optimism. This is a show with a huge beating heart and an undeniable sense of charm, made all the better for the surprisingly elegant weight and gravity it deploys in it's heavier moments. The truth is that no show this year has hit with the same level of positivity, and if that soundtrack isn't enough to bring a smile to your face, the incredible lead turn from Jane Levy might just do the trick. I love a show that knows how to use its high concept, and what makes ZEP such an exciting show is how it refuses to ever play its premise as a gimmick; it's always finding new ways to use its central conceit. Most thrilling of all has to be that stunning eighth episode that reverses the premise entirely and is all the better for it. Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist is just such a burst of colour, with every emotional beat played to its absolute maximum. It's one of the most enjoyable pieces of TV this year, and that's worth celebrating

5. What We Do in the Shadows

The funniest show of the year, on the other hand, has got to be What We Do in the Shadows. The first season was one of the biggest surprises of last year, and the second one is such a massive step forward, solidifying it as must-watch comedy. If the first season was mostly spent figuring out how to transport the unique charms of the original film to a new setting and format, then the sophomore run takes it from there, streamlining every element of the show until it's smoother than Jackie Daytona. That ace disguise gag is just one in a season of many, and picking a highlight from this buffet of semen-stealing witches and regular human music and resurrections gone wrong is just too difficult, although I am incredibly fond of Colin Robinson's single episode rise to power. Every character just feels perfect this season. They're all interesting, they're all funny, and especially in the case of Harvey Guillén's Guillermo, they feel like they're actually growing and developing through the antics. It's just such intelligent silliness, and it's ability to deliver hit after hit after hit across its ten-episode run is just a testament to how flawlessly Jemaine Clement has mastered the show's wonderfully unique formula

4. The Good Place

I was a little nervous about The Good Place ending, because after almost four seasons of pure existentialist perfection, it had set itself up for an insanely tricky landing to nail. But I suppose if the show up to this point had taught us anything, it's that Team Cockroach are at their strongest when the odds seem impossible. This four episode run essentially sees our unlikely heroes answer the meaning of life, save the Earth from a total reset, find the good in their greatest foe, and finally, finally get into the Good Place. For real this time. It's just impossible to imagine a better way for this show to have ended, really. That last episode in particular is the kind of poignant positivity that the show is built upon, tackling the inevitability of the end of existence with a reassuring smile. And that's a funny thing, because after four years of chasing the afterlife, of contemplating what paradise might look like, the show reaches the conclusion that maybe it's the end of the journey that made it special in the first place

3. Bojack Horseman

The Good Place wasn't the only show to nail it's ending this year, though. The first half of Bojack's swansong was hopeful, following Bojack on his steady yet uncertain recovery. Sure enough, the second half saw the pendulum swing downward once again. Hard. Bojack's ending is an interesting beast. This is television at its most uncomfortable and essential, unflinching in its analysis of hard truths and unsure in how Bojack might reach some kind of redemption, and ultimately if he's even deserving of it at all. This is best displayed in the penultimate episode, a beautiful, soul-shattering gaze into the abyss through an image that's been right in front of us the whole time. As for the final episode, it's exactly what you'd want from Bojack, delivering the perfect mix of gravitas and uncertain hope (which is still hope, after all). And that's a real feat; after all, a purely tragic ending would feel just as cheap as a totally happy one. Bojack Horseman goes out in the only way it could have. It's painful and it's beautiful, and honestly I wouldn't have had it any other way

2. Normal People

Where do I even begin with Normal People? I suppose I could dust off the ol' reliable for when a show gets this level of heat and say "Normal People isn't a show. It's an event", but I honestly don't think that would do it justice, because it's such a perfect demonstration of what makes TV such a unique medium, to the point where it really wouldn't have worked if adapted into a feature film. It's thoughts and feelings perfectly distilled into a series of exquisitely captured moments. Kind of like a relationship, actually. This show is kind of the perfect love story, not just delicate or passionate but intimate too, getting as close to these characters as they get to each other, and through that, we feel everything right there alongside them. On top of that is everything it tackles along the way, with special mention going to the tenth episode's incredible discussion of male mental health. It's such a pure piece of storytelling, so potent in the level of feeling that permeates every glorious moment. And while much has been made of the wonderful universality of the show's themes (and rightfully so), I'd like to celebrate how specifically Irish it is, how it nails every little detail of its setting and crafts a piece of media that reflects the richness of modern Irish storytelling

1. Better Call Saul

The further Vince Gilligan ventured into the past of everyone's favourite morally flexible lawyer, the more people began to ask the same question: When? When will this absolute behemoth of a spin-off finally surpass its mighty predecessor? Unless you're like me and actually think that Better Call Saul overtook Breaking Bad in its fourth season, but then the question was how Gilligan could top that and.... well, you get the idea. Better Call Saul is, simply put, the best thing on TV right now, and as Jimmy slipped to ever deeper depths, it was honestly just a privilege to tag along for the ride. Season 5 swapped the intense slow-burn of the four outings that came before it for a masterclass in plot density and economic storytelling. So much happened this season, which in turn gives us a much better look at Jimmy's degeneration in real time. It was such a thrill to watch the world repeatedly take chunks out of Jimmy McGill, only for the empty space to be filled by Saul

What makes the fifth season especially great, however, is the same thing that puts it above Breaking Bad, and that's Kim Wexler. Rhea Seehorn is consistently giving the best performance on TV here, and watching the role she has in the story gradually shift has been a crucial element in defining Saul as a masterpiece. As always, she shows us the parts of Jimmy that he keeps hidden, but this time around their dynamic is complicated by the way they tackle the concept of having a future together. I especially love the way it tees up its ending by teasing Kim's dark side. Hell, if the show keeps delivering in the way it has been, it's even possible that she could rival Jimmy at his most devious. But enough of the theories, because this season is honestly as close to perfection as Gilligan has gotten, and that's not even talking about Tony Dalton's terrifying Lalo Salamanca, or Jimmy and Mike's odyssey through the desert, or Hank's return, or Fring's Spice Curls. It's a perfect season of television, and I can't wait to see how the sixth season brings this incredible tale to a close