The Best Movies of 2017

Many reviewers have criticized 2017 for a down year in film, but I heartily disagree.  This was the year of the good film, and at times even the great film.  There was far less mediocrity and definitely less abysmal to suffer through (unless you have kids and watched Transformers or The Emoji Movie).  Of the 55 or so films I watched in 2017, less than five fit the category of horrifically bad and more than 70 percent were better than average.  This year I had a lot of fun in the movie theatre whether it was watching Kong: Skull Island, Star Wars, or Thor: Ragnorok, this was a year where fun and good were synonyms for each other.  Today, I will present my top 13 movies of 2017.  This films were all a cut above the other 42 and warranted a spot on my list.  If the list were longer films, like the coming of age Patti Cakes, the brilliant documentary Icarus, and the foreign horror thriller Raw would surely find their names added, but thirteen is my lucky number.  Without further ado, the best films of 2017.

13.  Star Wars:  The Last Jedi 

I like The Dark Knight Rises.  There I said it, go ahead and stone me to death.  It has many problems from a meaningless Joseph Gordon to a very convoluted plot, but hell, it’s fun and after all, aren’t movies, especially blockbusters supposed to be fun?  The Last Jedi is a flawed film.  Everything that happens on Canto Bight is ridiculous, some of Luke’s comedic choices were out of character, and Leia’s brief stint as Mary Poppins is just plain weird, but guess what, I had fun.  It was a blast watching this film in the theater at midnight.  The connection between Ridley and Driver was excellently executed, the throne room guard fight was one of the best in Star Wars film history, and Holdo’s jump to lightspeed is one of the most silently beautiful images I’ve ever seen on film.  Don’t try and make this into something it isn’t.  Don’t try and say, “It ruined my childhood,” (I watched Episode II, it was already ruined).  Don’t attack Rian Johnson for listening to the fans and deciding to not make a carbon copy of Empire.  I applaud him and I liked this film. 

12.  Darkest Hour 

In a year consumed by the retreat from Dunkirk, (Dunkirk, Their Finest) Darkest Hour gives us a look at the behind-the-scenes political intrigue by following an overwhelmed Churchill at the start of his Prime Minister stewardship.  This film is widely heralded for Gary Oldman’s performance, but largely overlooked as a complete film.  While I had some issues with the few scenes of poorly constructed CGI (budgeting issues), I was enthralled by a captivating story and I wonder if it came out in a year without Dunkirk if it would be receiving the same level of negative reverberation.  Yes, Gary Oldman is superb as the stodgy, but resolute Churchill; however, the real stars of this film are the supporting cast.  Stephen Dillane, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Lily James are all performing with grace and defiance, and the true standout of the movie is Ben Mendelsohn finally proving that he can play more than just a villain.  On top of the cast, Joe Wright deftly directs the picture with class and dignity. 

11.  Lady Macbeth 

For all the talk surrounding the acting performances of Gary Oldman and Francis McDormand, clearly the nomination boards missed a small Spring movie from Roadside Attractions.  Florence Pugh is breathtaking is the lead role.  With just a couple of credits, Pugh transforms from an actress ingenue into a seasoned veteran. Based on the short story, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, the film follows a newlywed locked in a loveless marriage to a bitter, hateful man twice her age.  In many ways this is film operates like Jane Eyre if Jane went to boarding school with Hannibal Lecter.  This film is helmed by Director William Oldroyd (Full length film debut) and Ari Wegner, director of photography.  If you don’t know these names, that’s ok, because no one does, but I hope to see their names working again soon.  Back in 2013, I raved about a scene in 12 Years a Slave, talking in length about the courage it took for director Steve McQueen to film the hanging scene.  Five years later, I will again rave about the courage it takes to film the opening 20 minutes of Lady Macbeth.  Two films this year understood the importance of sound and lack of sound (Dunkirk being the second).  The sparse, cold, echo of the house in this film haunt the audience for its entire run time.  A mixture of Oldroyd’s artistic vision and Pugh’s phenomenal breakout performance made this a film to remember.  

10. Brigsby Bear 

It’s hard to talk about Brigsby Bear without giving away the plot of the film so I will simply say this:  I was completely shocked by how much this movie made me cry and how much it made me laugh.  Despite its subject matter, it’s one of the funniest movies of the year and one of the better coming of age movies in the past decade.  Kyle Mooney could’ve easy played this film for cheap laughs and over-the-top humor, but instead gives the film heart, kindness, and consideration for all the characters involved, villains and heroes alike.  This is a perfect children’s film that no child should ever see.  

9.  A Ghost Story 

A Ghost Story is a film with everything working against it.  The “Art Film” aesthetic, the hipster approach to costuming, an aspect ratio that begs us to wonder if David Lowery was wearing a beret and smoking cloves as he directed.  There’s the cliche of “The Light”, a self-righteous monologue that comes in the middle of an otherwise heavily silent film and happens to explain the entire theme, and a completely unnecessary cameo from Kesha.  This is a movie that yearns for “look at me” attention seekers.  It screams of artistic indignation.  It’s almost as if Lowery is sitting in his director’s chair smirking and thinking, “I’m fucking brilliant.”  —He might be.  For all of the problems working against the movie, it works in spite of them.  Lowery has found a niche at turning cliche into authenticity.  He found this aesthetic first in his 2013 western noir, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints (Also starring Rooney Mara and Casey Affleck), but he has perfected his vision with A Ghost Story.  Believe me, I didn’t want to like this film.  With all the negative news surrounding Casey Affleck, I hesitated to even watch it, but while I derive no feelings of sympathy for the actor, his character embarks on a mystical journey to the dark recesses of both the film and my own nostalgic sensibilities.  In other reviews, three words hit me like a ton of bricks and I think they sum up the film:  Melancholy, Mundanity, and Meditation.  This movie is at its core a melancholic walk through the mundanity of time, but it’s also a meditation on time as a concept.  I find it fascinating that in recent years the films that have resonated with me have all dealt with time.  2013’s About Time, last year’s Arrival, and now A Ghost Story.  There’s something about the way in which we appreciate and simultaneously discard time that turns me into an emotional wreck.  A Ghost Story has continued where the first two films left off.  It’s the type of film that you watch less with your eyes and more with your soul.  It’s the first film of the year that had me screaming at the screen, “Let him read it.”  And that self-righteous monologue I remarked on, yeah, it had me in tears wondering the meaning of my own life.  A Ghost Story is not a film for everyone and if you leave the theatre feeling bored or unfulfilled — I’d completely understand, but for me it was the longest, shortest film of the year.  It made me ponder my own life, relationships, and connection with the world around me.  I applaud David Lowery for his gutsy approach to directing: less can be more.  For some, the film’s ending with leave them unsatisfied and hollow, but for me, you don’t need to know the answer to understand it.

8.  Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri 

Does a movie always have to be about a larger social message?  Can you redeem a racist?  These questions surround the center of the debate on Three Billboards.  I’ll admit that there are problematic parts with the racial elements of Three Billboards. I will admit that the film needed to dive deeper into the racial politics of Sam Rockwell’s character and the background characters of the movie. I will gladly fully admit that Abbie Cornish sticks out like a McDonald’s stand in the middle of a Whole Foods.  But I will also admit that I really enjoyed this movie.  I found it another perfect addition to the Martin McDonagh catalogue and despite the negativity, albeit somewhat warranted, that surrounds this film, I applaud the acting and the directing.  McDonagh is one of my favorite playwrights on the planet, writing what I believe are two masterpiece’s in The Pillowman and The Lieutenant of Inishmore, the latter being the funniest play I’ve ever seen in my life.  Perhaps this film was beyond the pale for McDonagh, but then again so are all of his works of art.  The audience tries to redeem Colin Farrell in In Bruges after he kills a kid.  The lead of The Cripple of Inishmaan is named Cripple Billy.  And Sam Rockwell’s Jason Dixon, is a horrific racist who never quite gets the comeuppance he deserves, but in no way do I believe the ending of the film justifies, simplifies, or exonerates him.  McDonagh deals in brokenness.  Broken people breed brokenness and no matter what you do, retribution will eventually catch up to everyone.  I understand the backlash to this movie and I understand anyone who hates the narrative it portrays, but I was a fan, and I remain a fan.  

7.  Wind River

If you think I like Martin McDonagh then just be prepared for the adoration I will pay to Taylor Sheridan.  In my opinion, he is the best Hollywood writer on the planet and has completed his quasi-western trilogy with Wind River.  A deeply disturbing story about a rape, murder, cover-up, and a shootout on a Native American reservation in Wyoming.  Sheridan has quickly rose from a novice to a master with Sicario, Hell or High-water, and Wind River.  He is one of the few film writers who understands that a location is always as much of a character as any of the lead actors.  And he continues to showcase the diverse talents of little known character actor Gil Birmingham.  In another small co-starring role, Birmingham shines as the grieving father in search of answers.  Two words come to mind when watching a Sheridan film: disturbing and beautiful.  He understands landscape and scenery in ways I’ve never seen before on camera.  And he writes complex, deeply traumatized characters who are intensely nuanced and subtle in the way they call and commiserate with the camera.  First it was Emily Blunt and Benecio Del Toro in Sicario, last year it was Ben Foster and Jeff Bridges in Hell or High-water, and then the trio is complete with Jeremy Renner and Gil Birmingham in Wind River.  I love what Sheridan captures with Wind River and I’m extremely excited to see his next project, the up and coming television show Yellowstone, which just so happens to have cast my friend Jefferson White as a series regular.   

6.  The Shape of Water 

I held off watching this film because I expected to dislike it.  Although I think Pan’s Labyrinth is a masterpiece, I feel Del Toro’s directing/writing has fallen prey to style over substance with lackluster

stories in Crimson Peak. Pacific Rim, and Hellboy II. All three have been visually stimulating, but lacked in character and plot arcs.  Then, I found out he had made a movie dubbed the “fish sex” film and I expected more of the same.  However, what I saw on screen was an intimate love story that transcended sex, orientation, race, species, and language.  I’m sure criticism of the film will find the love story quite trite or wonder “what’s the point,” but the lack of overall meaning neglects the actual story.  This is a folk story, somewhat gory and arcane, but a folk story nonetheless.  Sally Hawkins is wonderful and Doug Jones continues to go unrecognized for the wonderful clown work he has done over the years.  He has become the unsung version of Andy Serkis.  Technically, this is by far the best movie of the year with superb production design, sound, and editing.  The word visionary has long been ascribed to Del Toro’s name and he once again earns the title with this picture. 

5.  The Killing of a Sacred Deer 

Yorgos Lanthimos is the winner for the most googled name when you misspell it in a word document.  Lanthimos has created a style of directing and writing that strips away emotionalism and subtext to reveal the inner workings of the human mind and soul.  He created this vision in Dogtooth and Alps, figured out its success in The Lobster, and has molded it into perfection with The Killing of a Sacred Deer.  Lanthimos much like McDonagh, Allen, and Tarantino, likes to use the same actors in multiple films due to the nature of his writing and directing.  Colin Farrell once again shines as the Doctor Stephen Murphy, a man who must deal with his very real demons.  The film is based off of the Greek Myth of Iphigenia, specifically the tale of Iphigenia at Aulis written by Euripides (A favorite of mine).  There are many subtle references to this throughout the movie which is taut with tension throughout.  Two additions to Lanthimos’s team are Nicole Kidman and the main antagonist, Barry Keoghan, who gives a performance that rivals Ezra Miller in We Need to Talk about Kevin.  An excellent movie that requires a rewatch in order to understand Lanthimos’s unique style and sense of humor, The Killing of a Sacred Deer is a haunting film that dives deep into the depths of vengeance and acceptance.  

4.  Dunkirk

If you’re looking for a film with dialogue, for a film with action scenes between soldiers locked in desperate battle, for a war epic that focuses on violence and bloodshed; look somewhere else.  Dunkirk represents none of these things.  There might be a total of 100 lines of dialogue, you never once see a German soldier, and to call this a war genre film would be a mistake.  Dunkirk is less about war and more about survival, with an 86 minute run time that travels at the speed of an accelerated heart beat.  If Hans Zimmer doesn’t walk away with an Oscar for his score, it would be a crime.  Every song crafted by Zimmer has the underlying theme of a ticking clock, which changes speed depending on how Nolan wants the audience to feel  Each section of this film permeates tension and the catharsis at the end of the film is warranted and necessary.  Dunkirk signals a  return to form for Christopher Nolan, by taking taking an amazing true story, adding some Christopher Nolan flair, and making it extraordinary.  His use of intersecting stories by changing the time in which they take place is fascinating and while it confuses some, it inspired me.  Dunkirk isn’t without its flaws, the Mark Rylance civilian storyline is certainly imperfect and some of his soldiers

could’ve been enhanced with a class in enunciation, but the sparse script, the use of time, and the commitment to the everyman soldier made Dunkirk a great film and perhaps Nolan’s Masterpiece. 

A Note:  Before I reveal the top three films of the year, I will make one caveat.  The previous ten films were fun, exciting, engaging, organically depressing, and loved.  However, in my mind each suffered from some cinematic ailment:  A stretched out scene that broke its believability, a storyline that doesn’t fit with the rest, racial ambiguity, or way too much exposition.  The final three films on this list do not suffer such calamities.  Despite dedicated viewings and for some, multiple rewatches, each of these three films represented what was great about cinema in 2017 and so, despite a number labeling them (1-3), each could be considered the film of 2017.  

3.  Get Out 

Proclaimed funny man Jordan Peele, best known for an Obama impersonation on his hit tv show Key and Peele, made a horror movie about racism that’s as funny as a Richard Pryor comedy set, as deeply embedded in detail as a Hitchcock masterpiece, and as revealing as a James Baldwin documentary.  I love this movie and beyond how I feel about the actual piece of cinema, I love what it says about the industry going forward.  Sex, race, and experience are not determining judgements for artists.  Peele’s contribution to the cinematic landscape is simply astounding.  He jumped over stereotypes and genre boundaries to make this film.  In the process, he created a brilliant new look on racial narrative, an incredibly believable protagonist (exceptional work by Mr. Daniel Kaluuya), and one of the best villains in recent memory with Allison Williams.  The film is great, the artists involved with its production are great, but the conversation at the heart of the film is truly important.  In this country and in any country where the racial foundations are white, race has become a difficult and awkward conversation to have (which is an improvement, we used to never even have the conversation). But no matter how weird or awkward we all might feel, it is a necessary discussion and one that I’m glad to be a part of.  It’s the job of the privileged to listen and identify their own ignorances and prejudices.  We all must engage in conversation so one day we will defined less by our differences and more by our commonalities.  Get Out is far more than just a horror movie, it’s the beginning of a movement.  

2.  Lady Bird 

Many new directors fall prey to the same problems, while they make interesting debut projects, many are weighed down with too many choices and too much tinkering.  A new director sometimes feels the need to add as many of their shot ideas, story ideas, and production ideas as possible feeling that they may not get the chance to do so again.  This is not the case with Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird.  Gerwig doesn’t waste a single shot, a single moment, in the first film about millennials that doesn’t fall into the trap of talking down to millennials.  Gerwig’s creation, played masterfully by Saoirse Ronan, is incredibly flawed, broken, and raw.  Yet, she is also sweet, innocent, and far too smart for her own good.  Every time I thought this movie was going to shift into the cliche, it surprised me, bringing me plenty of laughs mixed in beautifully by gut-wrenching heartache.  Lady Bird’s father going for a job interview and then running into his son interviewing for the same job is simply heartbreaking.  Lady Bird’s education in learning to accept her mother quickly goes from sappy to satisfying.  The girls obsession with Crash into Me by The Dave Matthews Band sums up the film in a nutshell (if you haven’t listened to the lyrics from that song in a while, do yourself a favor and take a listen.  It’s deeply disturbing).  These moments create a vivid picture of time, mood, and place.  Ronan has quickly supplanted the girlish ingenue in Brooklyn with the confused rebel in Lady Bird.  And as for Laurie Metcalf, I dare you to find a more complete mother character than that of Marion McPherson.  Gerwig has quickly planted her flag in the director’s chair for years to come and Lady Bird is simply a treasure.  

1.  The Big Sick 

My number one movie of the year goes to, of all things, a romantic comedy.  However, to classify The Big Sick as simply a romantic comedy would be doing it a great disservice to both the script and the true story behind it.  Written by the real life couple (and comedians) Kumail Nanjiani and Emily Gordon, The Big Sick tells the story of culture clash romance between a Pakistan-born comedian and a white grad student.  Difficulties in family and commitment are magnified when Emily (Zoe Kazan) falls into a coma and Kumail has to navigate his feelings, his family, and Emily’s family (Holly Hunter, Ray Romano).  This sounds like a simple storyline, but labeling it in classic rom-com terms would be a mistake.  At the heart of this film are a collection of love stories told between families, between partners, and between strangers.  It’s a film about what it really means when you love someone in all aspects of the word, but that’s not the only story it tells.  For those who loved the racial complexity of Get Out get ready to find one of the first American movies to talk about Islam without talking about terrorism; other than the most awkward and comedic discussion in the film between Ray Romano and Kumail.  This is a film that criticizes religion without condemning it, that celebrates heritage without certifying all of it.  A neatly built script is brought to life by tremendous performances.  In a year filled with strong mother performances, Francis McDormand, Laurie Metcalf, and Allison Janney, Holly Hunter certainly fits into the category.  Kazan is equal parts simple and complex, giving much needed depth to the third act.  However the unsung hero of the film is Kumail himself.  A graduate of my parent’s alma mater, Grinnell College, Kumail has been a consistently funny comedian and comedic television actor for the past decade.  It’s always difficult to play yourself in a film, even more difficult when your wife helped you write the script, but Nanjiani executes his ‘character’ with perfection.  The Kumail on film is deeply flawed, despite consistently trying and the Kumail in real life brings across those little quirks and affectations that make the character extremely memorable.  Of all the films this year, all the conversations, all the performances, this is the film I will remember for being simple and simultaneously perfect.

The Best Movies of 2016

“I can’t beat it.”  Those four words delivered by Casey Affleck in Manchester by the Sea epitomize the last 365 days in America.  2016 and the two months of 2017 really, truly have re-defined the boundaries of what we thought was impossible.  It has been a difficult year for many of us with far too many surprises both wonderful (Go Cubs) and truly terrible.  Luckily for us, there can be solace found in even the darkest of days.  We will always have the movies.  

This year has been perhaps the most educational year in cinema of my life.  I didn’t watch as many films as I have in years’ past.  For once, I actually tried to watch quality films over quantity and while I didn’t see as many classics as I have in previous Oscar cycles, I did see plenty of films I would like to watch again.  Films that inspired me, made me think, and most importantly spurred creativity in recesses of my brain that had been left dormant.  Before I begin my list, I would like to make one caveat.  As my friends and family can attest, I am definitely a difficult critic to please.  In previous years, I have joked, poked fun at, mocked, and even open-mouth gaped incredulously when people told me their favorite movie of the year.   I won’t be doing that anymore (unless you liked Suicide Squad).  For the most part, I’ve learned the nature of perspective in appreciating film.  I know that my list is extremely subjective at best and everyone has the right to their opinions.  I think, we as a nation, have lost sight of this simple truth.  When you embrace opinions that differ from yours, you might actually learn a little and grow.  If you liked Rogue One: fantastic.  I thought it was mismanaged and poorly written with a kickass third act.  If you liked Jason Bourne, thought it was a great spy flick - wonderful!  I thought it was so forgettable, my best friend had to remind me that we went to see it.  These examples aren’t meant as sarcastic, in fact quite the opposite.  There are certain movies BvS, Suicide Squad, and the Hillary Clinton Smear movie that I will still go to the mat as being truly atrocious, but I embrace anyone who has the courage to share what they honestly believe.  Movie theaters are meant to be places of escape and not everyone needs the same escape that I do.

One other note:  Time is an important factor in understanding a movie critique.  Time is perhaps the greatest inherent bias when watching a film.  I remember watching Her one week after I finally came to terms with my ex-girlfriend leaving me.  No matter how good that movie may or may not have been, I couldn’t emotionally connect with it because I had already moved on.  The same is true with my list this year.  You will notice that phenomenally made films like Fences and Hidden Figures are not on my list.  They are undeniably wonderful films and perhaps in time I can appreciate them more, but with a movie like Fences I couldn’t get the extremely powerful performance I once saw of James Earl Jones and Courtney B Vance out of my head and so the film didn’t resonate as much with me.  In time I hope to revisit Fences along with many other films on this list.  

Finally, perhaps the best movie made this year is the documentary OJ: Made in America, but seeing as I watched the film as a mini-series it felt disingenuous to include it on this list.  It is a must see, incredibly timely and thought-provoking, and is as much about race and celebrity as it is about OJ.

My list is of the top 20 films of the year, but I will only go into detail on the top ten to save on time, energy, and of course, your patience.  

20.  The Lobster 19.  Doctor Strange 18.  Hacksaw Ridge 17.  Green Room

16.  Zootopia 15.  Moana 14.  Sully 13.  La La Land

12.  Captain America: Civil War/Deadpool 11.  The Nice Guys

10.  Moonlight

I will admit that Moonlight did not capture my creativity in the same way that it captured a lot of my friends.  I believe that director Barry Jenkins is trying to accomplish too much with this film and so it constantly changes the movie’s defined category.  As a viewer, while captivated by the majesty of his storytelling, I wasn’t always sure what story he wanted to tell.  Nevertheless, it makes both my list and the top of the Academy Awards Best Picture list, after the biggest flub in Oscar history.  I hope people won’t remember this film by the moments it had on stage during the Oscars, but rather by the moments of careful precision acted powerfully and perfectly by Naomie Harris, Ashton Sanders, and one of my favorite actors working today, Mahershala Ali.  I remember first seeing Ali in 2004 in the role of Richard Tyler on The 4400 and thinking that he would go somewhere.  Now thirteen years later, he’s an Academy Award winner.  I’ve never seen an actor deserve an award for just one line of dialogue, but for those who’ve seen the movie, the line is obvious, “yes.”  And I say, “yes,” to all the brilliant performers of Moonlight who truly make the movie special.

9.  Other People

If you didn’t see this little movie, don’t worry, you aren’t the only one.  I’m thankful that the Independent Spirit Awards saw fit to award Molly Shannon with a Best Supporting Actress Award.  She deserves it for portraying Joanna, a mother suffering from terminal cancer trying to live out the final months of her life while still maintaining motherhood.  I adored this little film shot through the perspective of Friday Night Lights alum Jesse Plemons who plays a gay, out-of-work comedy writer whose homosexuality is accepted by everyone other than his father.  It intermixes tragedy with comedy, light with dark (perhaps a theme from 2016).  The end result of the film is inevitable but still subtly satisfying as Plemons finally learns that unconditional love is still incredibly messy.  

8.  Don’t Think Twice

Comedian Mike Birbiglia’s follow-up to his 2012 comedy Sleepwalk with Me proves that Birbiglia’s brand of slightly off-kilter comedy works really well in low-budget independent films.  I’ve heard this film compared to Annie Hall and I personally believe it's better told, where Annie Hall follows two people as their main story, this follows the nature of comedy and how it affects everyone it touches.  The film is a heart-breaking hilarious ride in that its third act is definitely sad, but never loses the benefit of goodwill that the hilarity of the first act has carried.  Comedians Chris Gethard, Tami Sagher, Kate Micucci, Keegan-Michael Key, and even Birbiglia contribute to the films overall success, but the real star of this movie is Gillian Jacobs.  She proves that the comedy she provided on Community is only one facet of her skillset.  

7.  Eye in the Sky

Released in the early months of 2016, this film looked doomed from the start.  It was just another re-hash of the same tired old action movie premise.  Army + Terrorists + decisions = 1000 other movies; but what followed was certainly not another carbon copy of previous films.  This is a taut and timely film about the morality of drone warfare and the inability of government to take responsibility.  All of the actors do the majority of their work in a small amount of real estate, a bunker, a cabinet room, a chair piloting the drone, but each actor uses the excellent script and emotional dilemma created to the best of its advantages.  This film is also the final live action acting piece of the beloved Alan Rickman who goes out on top.  His second to last line of the film, “Never tell a soldier that he does not know the cost of war,” is delivered with such experience and weight that whatever moral decisions you’ve made throughout the film, they're once again thrown into flux.  Eye in the Sky does not telegraph the audience’s final perspective, but rather gives the gift of allowing you to make up your own mind.  

6.  13th

This slot could’ve easily gone to any one of the magnificent documentaries made in 2016, but unfortunately I still have yet to see I Am Not Your Negro and Cameraperson.  Instead the slot goes to 13th, a movie that I put off seeing as long as I could.  A few years ago, I dramaturged a production that centered around the Prison Industrial Complex and racism within prison.  Since I knew all of that information, I figured I had already watched 13th without actually seeing it.  Boy was I wrong.  The difference between my belief and reality is that while I knew the majority of the facts, I was not fully aware of the historical depth perception required in understanding the context of those facts.  13th might be the most re-watchable movie of 2016; not because of fun or frivolity, but because Ava DuVernay packs so much information into its 100 minute run time.  DuVernay shines as a director in this piece, both from subject matter and from film composition.  In 2015’s Selma, I took issue with the way in which LBJ was vilified, citing that George Wallace was already a villain, why do we need to add another one.  In this film the villain, while painful to accept stares us in the mirror and doesn’t let go of our gaze.  Available on Netflix, 13th is a powerful reminder that slavery didn’t die when the North won the Civil War, it simply evolved.  

5.  Midnight Special

Midnight Special is the less critically lauded Jeff Nichols film of 2016, being passed over for his impactful tale of the heart bridging the racial divide in Loving.  For me and my tastes, the more complete film is Midnight Special.  This is a strange little science fiction movie that left some fans wanting a different third act, but myself wanting to applaud.  I love a good twist as much as anyone and in a film that combines cult worship with aliens; morality with murder it would make sense for a twist - if you’re looking at it as a larger story, but it doesn’t have to be that.  When it boils down to the nitty gritty, this is a tale about a family, the father played extraordinarily by Hollywood’s most underrated actor, Michael Shannon, the mother, Kirsten Dunst who continues to turn in subtle, yet nuanced roles and the son played by newcomer, Jaeden Lieberher.  This is a movie that shifts between tense drama and fulfilling wonderment.  Deeply powerful and passionately potent, Midnight Special is much more than a simple science fiction movie.  

4.  Kubo and the Two Strings

Anyone who knows my taste in pop culture knows there are two things that I vehemently dislike:  Pop Country Music and Animated Films; so it is surprising to find an animated film so high on my list.  This year I found three films that were exceptions to the rule.  I liked Zootopia, loved the music in Moana, and was completely mesmerized by Kubo.  I’ve never seen an animated picture quite like this one.  With the musical Avenue Q, it’s said that if after ten minutes you still see puppets acting then the show isn’t doing its job.  The same can be said with Kubo, even while I was being dazzled by the artistry and diligent hard work that went into creating this animation, I stopped thinking of it as an animated film and instead as a well-acted drama with comedic relief.  A much darker plot than I imagined and a much deeper film, I’ll be watching Kubo for many years to come.

3.  Manchester by the Sea   

Much like 13th, I held off watching this film for as long as I could.  I was told over and over again just how much I would cry, how much it would rip my heart out.  I held out for as long as I could, but when it reached redbox I couldn’t wait any longer.  What I found out was that while this is certainly gut-wrenching, it’s also quite funny.  I first heard about Kenneth Lonergan’s work in college while acting in scenes from This is Our Youth and then later when directing scenes from Lobby Hero.  It took me a little while to come around to understand the true brilliance of this man.  He writes real life, the dirty, the misunderstood, the lost so deftly and with so much kindness that it feels less like a work of dramatic fiction and more like an honest documentary made with actors.  His direction of Sea was my highlight in direction this year.  Lonergan understands shot composition much in the same way that 12 Years a Slave director Steve McQueen does.  Both understand that the truth in filmmaking isn’t putting bows on scenes or directing moments that are “oscar worthy.”  The true essence of filmmaking lives in the minutiae of everyday life.  I laughed as much as I cried watching this film and I applaud both the Writer/Director Lonergan and stars Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams, Kyle Chandler, and newcomer Lucas Hedges.  

2.  Arrival

I have already written a review of Arrival that you can read in a previous post.  As a recap, this was less of a movie going experience and more of a religious baptism.  Something happened to me in that movie theatre that I may never be able to fully explain.  At one point in the film, Jeremy Renner says to Amy Adams, “Are you dreaming in their language?”  This line perhaps can sum up the film for me.  I started to watch the film as if I was inside the film and I spoke and thought the same words as the character.  Very trippy, very out of body, but entirely needed and spiritual.  I am thankful for Arrival and the brilliant work of director Denis Villenueve.  I cannot wait to see his sequel to Blade Runner.  

1.  Hell or High Water

In 2015, I watched Sicario and was incredibly critical of the film.  While I found the cinematography stunning and beautiful, I didn’t love the script.  I remember thinking that the screenwriter needed a lot more work before trying another film.  Two years later and the director of Sicario is the director of Arrival and the screenwriter is the writer of Hell or High Water.  As I said in the open, time changes everything.  Hell or High Water is a western noir that details a family drama with the backdrop of the recession and the south.  The setting for this film is as much a co-star as any actor in the film.  I loved this movie.  Going into it, I expected a simple bank robbery movie but what I got was a passionate film about the depth of love that lives within us all, the destruction of the South and the agrarian economy, and a look at the banking crisis all packed into a crime thriller.  The final scene of this film between Jeff Bridges and Chris Pine can rival anything that is in No Country for Old Men.  Taylor Sheridan (writer) and David Mackenzie (director) have crafted a masterpiece in storytelling.  One that tells three significant stories simultaneously without the audience realizing they're watching more than one.  I applaud the significant contribution this movie brings to the history of cinema and I am proud to name it my best picture of 2016.  

Last Night I Saw God in an Iowa Movie Theatre

I didn’t know any better.  My first day of graduate school I sat down in my advisors’ office while she poured me a cup of bitter tea that ended up tasting a little too much like bark.  As she poured, she discussed the variety of classes that I could take in my first semester.  After deciding my third class, she told me to take Asian Theatre, a subject that I knew very little about (you could say I knew “Noh-thing”).  She said I’d like the Professor and I might have my mind opened up.  Four months later, after hours of taxing study that blew my mind at least once a night, she was right.  The class had gotten me through a rocky start to graduate school complete with three concussions, two hospital visits, and one dog attack.  As the class came to an end my classmates and I each had to perform a selection from one of the art forms we had learned about in the course of the year.  I chose Butoh, a spiritual-based, highly specialized form of dance that arose (almost quite literally) out of the Japanese ashes of WW II.  The art form is quite difficult to define and covers a variety of issues including grotesque body imagery, taboo topics, and an artistic connection with “distress”.  Artists are usually clad in white body paint, which can be quiet disturbing, and dances are filled with slow hyper-controlled, sometimes manic, motion.  Somehow I was supposed to perform it.

Performing Butoh changed my life.  

My performance lasted five minutes and thirty-two seconds and I’m pretty sure I never got up off the ground.  Still, when I was done, I was physically and mentally exhausted, covered in pain, and on the verge of tears.  It was the first and only time in my life that a piece of art had transformed into something else; something more.  For me it was a religious experience.  Somehow I had been transported from my body, like detaching your soul but still feeling both at the same time.  It was something I’ll never be able to explain and it most certainly will never happen again.  Or so I thought.  

Last night it happened again.  

And I was watching a science fiction movie about aliens. 

Last night I saw God in an Iowa movie theatre and I cannot tell you why.  Before you get worried about me, no, I did not see Jesus or a guy on a cloud with a long beard.  I didn’t actually “see” anything other than a very good movie.  The film is called Arrival starring Amy Adams and Jeremy Renner and directed by Denis Villeneuve.  As I walked out of the theatre, after nearly ten minutes of silence, I turned to my friend and said, “that’s the best movie I’ve ever seen.”  Honestly, that might be a tad hyperbolic.  I’m sure if I watched the film from a critical perspective I’d find a few problems with the script, the plot-twist probably doesn’t actually make sense, and the soldier’s acting might have been a bit too stock, but critically and personally I know two things to be true.  The first, critically, is that Villeneuve might be the best working director on the planet.  Prisoners, Enemy, Sicario, and now Arrival are masterpieces in directing.  Even though I was not a fan of the film Sicario, I still walked away from it saying that the director and writer are geniuses (no wonder by favorite two movies of the year are Arrival (same director) and Hell or High Water (same writer).  The second thing I know to be true is personal.  This film has changed my life.  

By mid-way through the movie I was crying, and it takes a lot of me to cry in a movie theatre.  Hell, it takes a lot for me to cry in general.  In fact, I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve cried in five years.  By the time the film was over, I couldn’t see because my eyes were filled with tears.  This movie was a religious experience for me.  I cannot tell you why.  I can’t even explain it, but I know something happened to me last night in the theatre.  It was like I was no longer in control of my emotions or my body or better put like I could swap senses.  Like I felt language and I spoke feelings.  Almost like I was inhabited by a language that transcends the ways in which we conceive that language.  And if this all sounds weird (it is) something similar to my experience is experienced by a character in the film.  

Did I have a cosmic connection with a movie?

Or am I just so overwhelmed by the events of the past few weeks that I cried while watching a film?

I’m not sure and I’ll never be quite sure.  

One of the two founders of Butoh, Hijikata Tatsumi described Butoh as “a corpse reaching out for life.”  The performance does not lie in the achievement of life, but rather in the reach.  It is through silence and strife and pain that we reach out for hope.  We don’t actually have to achieve our end goal to accomplish it; the reach itself is the goal.  How does an artist explain such a complex thought/feeling?  They can’t, so instead they create a spiritual dance that transcends words to create their own understanding of language and communication.  

For me, Arrival was a more than a movie.  It was a form of Butoh.  

Or maybe it was just a film and I’m a rambling lunatic.  Watch the movie and find out for yourself.  

This Week in Meaningless Sport Betting: The Hot Dog Eating Championship

This year marks the 100 year anniversary of the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating contest (although really the 40th).  According to local legend, four immigrants had a Hot Dog eating contest in 1916 to decide which one was the most patriotic, although that legend is up for debate.  The competition heated up in the 70’s and became more internationally known with the inclusion of the IFOCE, the International Federation of Competitive Eating, in 1997.  Now all competitions, usually about 20 per year are required to be card carrying members of the IFOCE.  

The event is not without it’s fair share of controversy.  In 1999, Competitor Steve Kainer was caught on camera eating half of his first dog before competition began, but the judges never saw it and he was awarded the championship.  Also in 2003 attempts were made for a celebrity edition starring William "the Refrigerator" Perry, but after he failed to complete his sixth dog, the idea was quickly abandoned.  

In 2001, Takeru Kobayashi took home the championship catapulting the event to new levels of international acclaim.  He would go on to hold the belt for six years before the eight year reign of Joey Chestnut.  Kobayashi almost lost his title in 2007 when known around the IFOCE the Roman Method Incident, more commonly known as vomiting, nearly cost him disqualification. Last year, in an All American final, Matt Stonie took away Chestnut’s belt winning 62-60 in a ten minute bout.

There are multiple different strategies used by the competitors today.  Kobayashi invented the Solomon method, where a competitor breaks the dog in half, eats, and then eats the bun.  Other methods include the Carlene Pop, the Buns & Roses, which both include movement and of course “Julieting” which only occurs when a competitor cheats and throws the buns over their shoulder.  

This year looks at fierce competition between defending Champion Matt Stonie and eight time champ Joey Chestnut.  Current odds see Stonie as the favorite with Stonie at -130 and Chestnut at -110.  Originally you could’ve gotten Chestnut at +135, which is where I took him.  Chestnut is 32 years old and owns plenty of world records including 12.8 lbs of deep fried Asparagus in 10 minutes, 13.76 lbs of pork rib meat in 12, and 141 hard boiled eggs in eight minutes.  He also has the current Nathan record with 69.  For years he has complained of not having a true rival, but now he does.  Also before last years competition he was getting over his fiancee breaking up with him.  I believe the extra year gave him time to reflect and considering that 62 dogs was the winning total last year and Chestnut has overtaken said number 5 times in championship competition; the safe bet is with the underdog. 

On this weekend’s episode we will look at the Munster Senior Championship in Gaelic Football between Kerry and Tipperary.  Kerry features as a gigantic favorite, but we will discuss if Tipperary is worth a few dollars at +1000 odds.    

I'm Not Okay

Yesterday, a friend asked me, “How are you doing,” and I replied, “I’m fine,” but of course I’m not fine.  Rarely when someone says they’re fine do they actually mean it.  I wish I would’ve said how I really felt.  How the mess of the world makes me feel small and scared and alone.  I wish I would’ve said, “I’m not okay,” because, I’m not.  

I’m not okay with what happened in Florida

I’m not okay with our reaction to that tragedy

I’m not okay with the anger I feel

I’m not okay with the country I live in

I’m not okay that a man can waltz into a nightclub and kill forty-nine people

  that he can do so with a gun that serves no legal purpose other than death

  that he can claim ISIS and with it take away his victim’s identities

I’m not okay that Fox news can mourn the loss of forty-nine Americans, but not the loss of forty-nine LGBT Americans.

I’m not okay when hypocrites dictate American Policy

   when politicians mourn LGBT lives while working tirelessly to wipe their existence off the face of the Earth

   when news agencies use tragedies to tout their ratings and applaud their anchors

           when I’m not surprised

I’m not okay with Second Amendment worshippers 

I’m not okay with illogical arguments based on a lack of historical perspective

   with there being enough guns to give every American man, woman, and child a firearm

   with shoot first, ask questions later

I’m not okay with “from my cold, dead hands” being a rallying cry rather than a warning

I’m not okay with people remembering Adam Lanza’s name, but forgetting Vicki Soto's

     with the NRA having more political power than the President

I’m not okay with that gun on your belt

I’m not okay when an attack on the LGBT community becomes a secondary headline

I’m not okay when an attack on the LGBT community becomes fodder for a terrorism debate

  when an attack on the LGBT community becomes a bigot’s get out of jail free card

  when an attack on the LGBT community becomes a two-day story

But that’s not all

I’m not okay that we cringe for the first Female Candidate

I’m not okay that we condemn her for emails, while a fraud and racist dances free

I’m not okay that her imperfections ring louder than all the other men before her

I’m not okay that we’ve accepted our role in watching this witch burning

I’m not okay with six month penalties for “20 minute crimes”

  with band aids for bruises that will never heal

  with judges representing perpetrators over victims

I’m not okay with one out of every six women

It’s not okay that I can raise my hands in class, but change my location and skin color and I’ll be shot

It’s not okay that Ferguson has become a bad word rather than a revolution

It’s not okay that we fight arguments over headlines rather than facts

It’s not okay that “I have a dream” is now just a hashtag

It’s not okay when my students can tell me why the Kardashians matter but not why the Civil War was fought

   when we laugh at Senators with snowballs, but do nothing to stop their ignorance

It’s not okay when revolutions must be started by artists rather than leaders 

   when we care about being right now rather than being right.  

It’s not okay that our public grief can be summed up by a temporary profile picture

It’s not okay that guns don’t kill people; Americans do

It’s not okay that we’re accustomed to tragedy 

It’s not okay that Orlando won’t be the last one

I’m not okay with my American pulse because my heart has been shot to shit

So if you see me and ask me, “How are you doing?”  I’ll answer clearly and succinctly, “I’m fine"