Monday, 12 November 2018

My 12 Favourite Movies (2 Year Anniversary Special)

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

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

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

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

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

12. Young Frankenstein

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

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

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

11. Boogie Nights

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

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

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

10. It Happened One Night

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

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

9. Fargo

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

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

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

8. Amélie

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

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

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

7. The Royal Tenenbaums

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

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

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

6. Princess Mononoke

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

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

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

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

5. Brazil

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

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

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

4. Taxi Driver

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

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

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

3. Seven Samurai

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

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

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

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

2. Pan's Labyrinth

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

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

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

1. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, 25 October 2018

My Thoughts on A Simple Favour

A Simple Favour is a film that I've been looking forward to for some time. I love Anna Kendrick anyway, and everything I saw about this movie just made me more hyped. A stylish mystery thriller with a comic edge about a missing woman? Sign me up. It's not the most original of premises, but lurking just beneath the surface of this movie are some fantastic twists and turns that really make it stand out. So yeah, I was really excited about this movie, and did it live up to my expectations? Let's find out!

Before I start, don't worry, I'm not going to spoil this one. It is better to go in blind, but I'll try to keep any key reveals hidden.

The plot centres on Stephanie (Anna Kendrick), a widowed vlogger who begins to develop a friendship with Emily (Blake Lively), a stylish and enigmatic woman whose son goes to the same school as Stephanie's. Right off the bat, Emily is an incredibly interesting character. She's a definite mystery, but she's got this frankness that makes her really likable. This offsets Stephanie quite well, who is more wholesome and simpler (on the surface) than Emily is. The film establishes this relationship quickly and effectively, and it's this dynamic that becomes the backbone of the plot. The chemistry between Kendrick and Lively is palpable, and it's this relationship that stays at the centre of everything, even when the movie goes batshit. The way that their arcs gradually intertwine is satisfying and fun to watch, and it leads to a truly electric atmosphere in the climax.

The plot itself is so much fun. It knows that this idea has been done to death, so there's a knowing sense of humour to the whole thing. It's never annoyingly meta, but it plays out like a lovingly crafted tribute to genre staples gone by, and it's so enjoyable as a result. Each twist it brings in warps the story, and though the film gets pretty crazy, it never becomes incoherent. As I said, the relationship between Kendrick and Lively keeps the audience tethered to the plot, and ensures that the film doesn't get lost in its own twistiness. And credit where it's due, because these twists actually feel earned. They aren't there for the sake of it, they actually make sense in the narrative. And when you combine that with the knowing sense of humour, you get a movie that's able to acknowledge it's own ridiculousness, while simultaneously taking itself seriously enough to be coherent. That's a very thin line to walk, but A Simple Favour never goes too far either way. Even when it dives into the psychological underpinnings of its characters, there's a breezy sense of fun to this movie that just works. And when the plot veers into the utterly ridiculous, it kind of knows it, and it's that self awareness that makes it sing. The climax might mean towards being too batshit for some people, but I think it works because the plot is so well structured that the film is just about able to handle all of that craziness when it does come up. It feels like a natural progression, even if it is completely bonkers.

This film is exactly what I needed it to be. It's fun, it's gorgeous to look at and it's intricately plotted with just the right amount of craziness to justify those twists. Yeah, it loses some of that structure in the home stretch, and starts to run in pure madness, but it manages to bring that around to a ln ending that's coherent enough to satisfy. The performances here are electric. Lively and Kendrick have one of the best dynamics I've seen all year, and it's this that fuels the movie. There's so much to their relationship, and unpacking it becomes the fun part. This is done so well that it's actually worth the price of admission in itself. Even when Lively isn't on screen, you feel her presence, and it's her essence that haunts the movie like a high society ghost. It's an interesting edge that undercuts all of the glossy fun, and Paul Feige is skilled enough to balance these aspects, and the result is awesome.

Tuesday, 23 October 2018

My Thoughts on Set It Up

Romantic comedies are interesting. When they're done well, they can be fantastic. When they aren't done well, they can be borderline unwatchable. In the 2000s, these kind of movies kind of gained a reputation for being.... not very great. But they've actually been making something of a comeback in the last while. Stuff like The Big Sick and Silver Linings Playbook have proved that there's still life in the genre, and if Set It Up is anything to go by, this comeback isn't stopping anytime soon. The latest in a string of solid Netflix originals, Set It Up follows the assistants of two of the most influential people in New York, who decide to get their bosses together in hope of a break. As you'd imagine, it's not going to be that simple.

I'll admit, I didn't really expect too much of this film, but I found myself pleasantly surprised by how good this one was. First of all, the two leads (Glen Powell and Zoey Deutch), are fantastic. They've got incredible chemistry together. They effortlessly trade quips with each other, but when they do start to fall in love, you believe that too. They're an incredibly charming duo, and you definitely want to see them get together. They don't just work great together either. They're both incredibly interesting and charming characters in their own right, too. You believe in both of them, and you root for both of them.

It's not just Powell and Deutch who wow. Lucy Liu and Taye Diggs are superb as the two bosses. Liu brings a surprising amount of depth to what could have been a one dimensional bitch character, and ends up being surprisingly likeable in the process. But it's Diggs who steals the film. He's an unapologetic bastard, and he's huge amounts of fun because of it. This guy is a consistent scene stealer, and his he compensates for a lack of development with delicious, and often hilarious nastiness.

The script is fantastic too. It's sharp, zippy and smart. Any overly sweet moments are balanced by a wonderfully acidic wit, but it's not without genuine moments of heart either. It strikes that balance that romantic comedies need to, by being legitimately sweet and actually funny. This film is big on both heart and laughs, which makes up for the fairly formulaic story. The plot itself isn't revolutionary, but the idea of two people who know enough about their bosses to the expertly influence their relationship is a smart take on the genre. It's still got it's clichés, as well as some very predictable story beats, but it knows how to integrate these things in a way that doesn't feel tiresome, and that's what makes it work. It is self aware, but it's not annoyingly self aware, and it's willing to fully embrace genre clichés when it needs to.

Set It Up is one of the genuine surprises of the year. It's a romantic comedy done superbly. Yeah, it's predictable (you can see that ending from a mile away), and the plot isn't anything mind blowing, but it more than makes up for that. I really cannot stress enough how good Deutch and Powell are here. They're truly wonderful together. It's their relationship that's really at the core of the film, and watching it blossom and develop is a true  privilege. The film nails it's tone, always stopping just short of becoming mush, with one of the best comedy scripts of the year. If there was ever any doubt that the rom-com was making a comeback, Set It Up swoops in to put those doubts to bed.

Sunday, 21 October 2018

My Thoughts on American Animals

There's something really special about the heist genre. There's an element or urgency and caution when they're done right that gives the viewer a truly unbeatable thrill. But what if it wasn't just a movie? What if it wasn't just based on a true story, but actually was one? That's where Bart Layton's American Animals comes in. It chronicles the attempted theft of priceless books by four college students. As I (and the film's opening credits) said though, this isn't just based on a true story. It's not a fictionalised account of what happened, it's a docudrama that splices its story with interviews from the real guys, and the people in their lives. American Animals is a really interesting take on the heist movie. It kind of flips what I was saying about the genre on its head. There's a definite thrill to be had here, but it throws the finesse of something like Heat or Rififi out of the window in favour of something a lot more visceral and uncomfortable, but more on that in a bit.

The way the film weaves talking heads with reconstructions is clever and deft. Because this actually happened, there's a grim feeling of reality to the whole thing. Seeing the four guys telling this story is just as thrilling as seeing their fictional counterparts carry out the heist, and that's the film's greatest strength. Layton ensures that you're never distanced from the experience and puts you right in there. He does this by showing you these guys, and have them tell you how it actually happened. Or how it didn't. Each of the guys involved have a different account of how it all went down, and their stories regularly conflict onscreen. That's one of the hallmarks of the film's style, and also gives it a fairly strong sense of humour. Even in the movie's grittier moments, there's fun to be had here. The tone bounces effortlessly between  unbearable tension and undeniable enjoyment, before coming down on the audience like a ton of bricks with that devastating ending.

This is helped by the performances, especially Barry Keoghan as the apprehensive but still morbidly curious Spencer, and Evan Peters as the unpredictable wildcard, Warren. Both of these performances are really impressive, and they do a really good job of portraying how the real Spencer and Warren tell the story. Evan Peters is especially good as Warren. He's got this irrepressible mischief in him, but he's not a bad guy. None of them are. They're just bored. They all just wanted something exciting to happen to them, and none more so than Warren.

That's another thing that makes Layton's approach special. He never tells the audience how to feel about the story, or the guys involved. Instead, he shows you as many dimensions of the four as he can, and trusts you as the viewer to make your own mind up. As the film goes on, you see these guys from every angle, and by the end, it's actually kind of hard not to pity them. Especially when Layton uses the real weight and impact of their crime to really fortify that jawdropping ending.

And speaking of jawdropping. The heist scenes are unbelievable. I mentioned heist movies like Heat and Rififi earlier on, because the idea of heist films is something that really ties into the movie. See, the four guys have a plan, but they're far from professionals. So they learn by watching movies. It's the amateurism of their heist that makes it so riveting. They're completely ready on a purely technical level, but totally unprepared for the traumatic effects that this crime is going to have on them. They quickly realise that their plan to not hurt anyone is kind of impossible, and it's this naivety that ends up doing them in. Watching this unfold is almost unbearable, but it's also impossible to look away from. What's especially effective is seeing how it affected the real guys, and that's what resonates here.

American Animals is a truly excellent film. From first minute to last, Bart Layton's film is a breathless thriller with shockingly real impact. There's no glamour to this one, and it definitely isn't an easy watch, but it's definitely worth it for how heart stoppingly tense the whole thing is. This tension is combined with really hard hitting emotion and a thought provoking style, and the result is truly special. This is heart in mouth stuff, blending documentary style with relentlessly raw direction, and ultimately becomes a thought provoking discussion on morality and consequences. Outstanding.

Saturday, 20 October 2018

My Thoughts on Upgrade

If you're anything like me, the mere existence of this film will make you very happy. Leigh Whanell's Upgrade is the kind of movie that we just don't see enough of anymore. The kind of genre fare that we saw a lot of in the early 80s. Think of  Cronenberg, Carpenter, and the first Terminator and you won't be too far off. It's interesting to get something like this now, actually. Not that there isn't a great selection of modern genre films coming out, because there definitely is, but Upgrade just has this lovely retro feel to it that makes it stand out. Essentially it follows a man who becomes paralysed and loses his wife after a brutal attack. Luckily for him, a millionaire that he was fixing a car for has developed technology that will allow him to walk again. He decides to use this to get revenge on the gang that killed his wife, but as you might think, it's not going to be that simple.

In a film where the concept and action are really at the forefront, I really have to applaud the plot of Upgrade. Okay, it's not the most complex thing in the world, but there's some really interesting developments here, especially towards the end. The reveals of what exactly is going on makes for something that's actually pretty unsettling. It does lose some of its madcap fun when it starts implementing these twists, but the ideas behind the reveals are what truly stand out, and compensate for that. It doesn't explore the ideas of moral grey and artificial intelligence as well as it maybe could have done, but the discussion of these things at the end actually works, and gives the film a fairly interesting dark edge as a result.

But hoo boy, let's talk about the action. This is what really makes this one special. There's a real crunch and rip to the fight scenes in Upgrade. The action is visceral and gory and pleasingly insane. When Grey Trace (Logan Marshall Green's fantastically minimalist hero) and Stem (his gloriously violent robot companion) fight, magic happens. The way Grey slides about the room under Stem's influence is just so cool to watch. That, combined with the sheer brutality of some of these fights, makes Upgrade a boatload of fun. It swaps size and CGI for something fresh, and different, and soars because of it. But the weight and the stakes keep this action interesting. One scene where Grey has to drag himself through a building to find help is particularly tense, and there's a great one on one near the climax that reminds us that he may not be as overpowered as we thought.....

The whole look and feel of the thing is fun too. The neo noir style gives Upgrade a distinct feel, and the inclusion of drones and self driving cars give the science fiction some real plausibility. The film feels believable, which is handy for a story that could have been so far fetched. It's far removed from our world, but we still believe in it, and that's what makes good sci-fi world building. It just doesn't feel like anything else that's come out this year. The whole atmosphere melds with the frenzied violence, and they blend together so well.

Upgrade isn't a revolutionary film by any means, but it does feel fresh. It compensates for its relative simplicity by giving us something that we don't really see now. The film is furiously paced and dripping with gore, and as a result, it stands out. Combine that with how well it weaves in its vision of the near future, and you have a winner. If you love genre cinema like I do, it's unmissable. It's crunchy, and fun, and loaded with action. It doesn't do anything especially new, but it draws on genre classics to give us a deliciously retro sci-fi action gorefest, and if that description doesn't excite you, then we probably couldn't be friends. It's definitely not for everyone, but if you like your sci-fi gory, it's not to be missed.

Tuesday, 16 October 2018

My Thoughts on Blackkklansman

Spike Lee is an interesting guy. Like him or loath him (and I like him), you've got to admit that there's nobody quite like him. Even when his films are bad, they're never boring. There's always something to talk about, and they always start a discussion of some kind (even if that discussion is about how unnecessary an Oldboy remake is). The thing is, there aren't many filmmakers that are this daring, and this brash. So you'd think that with over 30 years in the industry under his belt, Spike Lee would lose his touch

Fat. Chance.

Blackkklansman is one of Spike Lee's best. Ever. I know that I'm supposed to deliver an ultimate verdict on the film at the end, but a film this good and this important cannot be missed. This film is excellent. It's the exact kind of thing we need right now. I generally don't like to get political here, because let's face it, that's not why you're here. That said, regardless of your stance, you have to admit that we're living in politically turbulent times. I'll try not to be too political here, but I will say this. In times like these, a film like this seriously requires the right person for the job. And though Spike Lee's approach has been troublesome in the past, I can't think of anyone who would have been better for this project. His unsubtle ferocity is perfect for something this topical.

For those unaware, the film follows the (true) story of Ron Stallworth, a black police officer going undercover in the KKK. Yep. This actually happened. And although it's a period piece, the plot feels incredibly timely. There's serious relevance to the story, and even from the opening moments, you know that you're watching something truly unique. The plot itself lends itself to not just razor sharp satire, but also some really poignant moments of drama, too. There's some serious heft to some of the scenes in this film, and Spike Lee's brazenness lends them the weight they need. It's definitive proof that Lee hasn't lost his mojo. Even 30 odd years after his debut, Spike Lee still has this incredible power to provoke and shock. What's truly impressive though is how he applies the story to a modern context. Lee never pretends to have all of the answers. He knows that the political landscape is too turbulent to even try. So instead, he does what he's always done. He asks the tough questions, in a way that's honest and direct. That hasn't always worked for him in the past (see Bamboozled), but here, it's perfect. He's not preaching, he's starting a discussion that needs to be had. The result is thought provoking, and truly mesmerising.

And the cast is pretty great too. John David Washington has this really earnest charm to him that makes him incredibly easy to root for. He's a protagonist that you immediately get behind. Adam Diver turns in some of his best work as Stallworth's partner Flip, while Laura Harrier's activist goes way beyond just being a love interest (although the romantic subplot does add some emotional depth to the whole thing), and actually deepens the conflict by offering a different, yet still valid, perspective. But it's Topher Grace who absolutely wows as David Duke, the Grand Wizard of the KKK. He's absolutely unbelievable in this role. He's never a pantomime villain, instead being this real world evil that's all the more sickening because of the reality of it all. He's never over the top, and ends up being so convincing and chilling. He's one of the absolute highlights of the film, fuelling so much of the conflict, and using footage of the real David Duke at the end is another deft application of the film's message to the present day.

But it isn't without it's issues either. Because this is Spike Lee, it should go without saying that the film completely lacks subtlety. As I said before, I do think that this was the right approach, but the film loses some breathing room as a result. The story was done with tact, and the directness of the film works to it's advantage, but when everything in the film is loud enough to be coming out of Radio Raheem's boombox, it can get a little exhausting. The film also has some structural issues, especially with the pacing. It kind of alternates between fast and slow plot progression, and I think it does lose some of its storytelling power as a result.

But these problems really don't matter in a film this explosive and this important. The actual content is pure cinematic dynamite, stronger than anything Spike Lee has put out in some time. But Lee saves the strongest punch for last, using real footage of Charlottesville to make his primary point: America is in trouble. Again, he doesn't claim to have the answers. But that's not what he's doing in Blackkklansman. He isn't providing solutions, he's using his art to start conversations, and hoping that those conversations can lead to somewhere progressive. And I hope they do. Blackkklansman is truly stunning cinema. Put simply, it's one of the most gloriously incendiary films you're likely to see this year. Go see this movie.

Saturday, 6 October 2018

My Thoughts on Mission Impossible: Fallout

What did we do to deserve Tom Cruise? Yeah, he's the butt of pretty much every joke, and yeah, he's made some absolute stinkers, but honestly the guy is pretty fantastic. He's what keeps the Mission Impossible series fresh. Big budget blockbuster entertainment tends to have it's issues. I mean there's a lot  of things now that feel like corporate cashgrabs, and often end up mediocre at best and god awful at worst. Refreshingly though, Mission Impossible has kept it's flavour. I think that's down to two factors. First, the director shifts. Going from De Palma to Woo, to Abrams to Bird, and then to McQuarrie has given each one it's own flavour, and even with McQuarrie behind the camera again, it still feels wholly original. The second factor though, is Cruise. Tom Cruise is interesting because he puts so much passion into everything does. True, he has made some transparently money grabbing studio flops, but he's undoubtedly comitted to pretty much everything he's done. Regardless of how you feel about the guy, you've got to respect him, because he seems to care about every film he makes, and that really makes a difference

And he's what makes Mission Impossible: Fallout so excellent. The plot here follows Cruise as Ethan Hawke, tasked with tracking down some missing plutonium before it falls into the wrong hands. It's a fairly simple plot, but it absolutely works in how it facilitates all of the madness of the setpieces. And in a franchise known for insane action scenes, this one goes above and beyond to provide pure action madness. From the Halo jump to the helicopter chase, and every bathroom fight, foot chase, car chase and shootout inbetween, there's some truly jawdropping action here. Also, the plot has real consequences, and that's something that I feel has kind of been missing from movies like this; that feeling that if things go wrong, they're going to stay wrong. Fallout makes you aware of these stakes, so even if you have no connection to any of the characters, you still feel the peril. You're never distant from the danger, because you're always in the danger.

The plot also works in how it develops Ethan as a character. From the start, it's clear that there's more emotion and depth to him this time around, and that's pretty crucial to making us care about his exploits. It's refreshing to have a protagonist that we actually care about, and can become invested in. This investment pays off big time in the scenes of tension, especially in the genuinely suspenseful climax.

Another thing that makes Fallout stand out is the charm. The dialogue is fast and sharp, and any lighter moments really hit the mark. Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg as Luther and Benji are particularly perfect. They bring huge amounts of personality to what easily could have been generic. But it's the little touches in this film, the small pieces of charm and humour that make it work so well. They fit in with the jaw dropping setpieces so damn well, which makes the film incredibly entertaining as a result.

And you know what? I don't really have any issues with this one either. It achieves exactly what it sets out to do, and does it spectacularly. Especially in an age where studios pump out generic franchise fare, Fallout is truly something to behold. It's blockbuster entertainment done right. It's tense, it's funny, it's so fantastically watchable. Every little twist and turn this film takes reminds me why this series was great to begin with, and why it still works 22 years later. It sucks you in, and does not let you go right up until that unbearably tense climax. It's proper investment, and that makes a world of difference. Here's an example of a film that does exactly what it's needs to do, and elevates both it's franchise, and blockbuster cinema, to new heights in the process. God bless Tom Cruise