5. “Burning”
On a first watch, the ambiguity of Lee Chang-dong ’s “Burning,” can be almost frustrating. But the film’s little nuances became more apparent and intriguing with further reflection, and it is ultimately revealed as a thoughtful and deceptive film about loneliness, love, resentment, and ruin. “Burning” is a tragic love story meticulously yet agonizingly crafted through discomfort and mystery, as it follows Lee Jong-su (Yoo Ah-In), a young man who meets and becomes quickly infatuated with Hae-mi, played by wonderful first-time actress, Jeon Jong-seo. The relationship develops into a love triangle involving the rich, charming but unnerving Ben, played by the great Steven Yeun—and boy, does Yeun put up quite the disturbing performance. With the abrupt disappearance of Hae-mi, Jong-su embarks on a trail of suspicion — one that ends in blindsiding calamity. Though the title concerns a certain character’s twisted pastime, it simultaneously embodies the evolution of Lee’s incredible script, that smolders from romance to foreboding thriller with eerie ease. With a poetic climate defined by enigma and ominous tension, the great allure of “Burning” is that its languid two-and-a-half hour run-time is just the beginning of its slow burn. – Kyle Kohner
4. “Annihilation”
When it opened modestly at the U.S. box office in February, the story around Alex Garland’s mid-budgeted sophomore directorial effort, an adaptation of Jeff VanderMeer’s first book in his Southern Reach Trilogy, seemed almost exclusively focused on Paramount’s handling of the distribution. Getting cold feet at the idea of an expensive international marketing push for what they deemed a challenging sci-fi picture, they opted to sell off to Netflix. Pity, though, because they may have left some real box office money on the table and, most importantly, for the few who saw it in a theater, the story of a female-led scientific expedition into the heart of an inexplicable phenomenon called The Shimmer was one of the most visceral, thrilling cinematic experiences of the year. Critics mostly went for it nonetheless, but it still feels deeply underrated, with so much to appreciate: Garland’s super confident but unshowy storytelling; the great cast led by Natalie Portman in a performance that shows new sides of her talents; Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury’s haunting score. Filled with one great sequence after another (that mutant bear attack is next-level great, but the climax is the best), we can get caught up wondering if Paramount botched the release, or we can just be glad such a daring movie got made at all, as its greatness is evident no matter where you see it. —Erik McClanahan
3. “Hereditary”
The word “disturbing” is simply defined as “upsetting or disquieting,” and although this adjective is undoubtedly the go-to term when you’re trying to make sense of the images eating away at your brain after watching “Hereditary,” the above-mentioned definition cannot nearly encompass all of the psychological torment this film conjures up. Director Ari Aster manages to craft a smart, surreal and sickening debut that demonstrates his surgical control of tension, while Toni Collette delivers a masterful performance that, unfairly, likely won’t flicker on the Oscars‘ radar. Most importantly, “Hereditary” boasts a characteristic shared by a select few horror movies: It feels genuinely evil. This sense of dread bubbles beneath your skin throughout the nightmare’s two-hour duration and screams at you to leave, but won’t let your eyes leave the screen. Granted, the phrase “masterpiece” is tossed around too frequently, but it’s hard to imagine that cinephiles, and horror buffs in particular, won’t hold this film in equally high esteem decades from now. So, for the sake of preserving credibility, let’s just call “Hereditary” a great piece of cinema and leave it at that, while we all try and fail to get the piano wire scene out of our heads. — Jonathan Christian
2. “First Reformed”
“Will God forgive us? Will God forgive us for what we’re doing to His creation?” Asked by Ethan Hawke’s Reverend Ernst Toller throughout the film, this line plays as the overarching question of “First Reformed,” while still barely scratching the surface of the big ideas that director Paul Schrader has on his mind. Plagued with physical ailments and familial tragedy, Reverend Toller is the pastor and in-house operator of the historic First Reformed Church. After his consolation of a local churchgoer goes disastrously wrong, Toller turns inwards and is forced to face the rapidly changing world around him. As such, “First Reformed” aims to make sharp and poignant critiques on the corporatization of megachurches, big business corruption, and the dangers of climate change – all carried by Ethan Hawke, who explores these very real anxieties with a powerfully quiet, career-redefining performance. The film fires on all cylinders, but never feels overstuffed, remaining pensive, anxious, and more than anything, haunting. Equally a product of its time as it is about and for its time, “First Reformed” is undeniably one of the greatest and most thoughtful moral explorations in contemporary art cinema, and very well may be Schrader’s masterpiece. — Tyler Casalini
1. “You Were Never Really Here”
Two men holding hands on a kitchen floor. A wristwatch ticking to the tune of a gas pump. Layered, disembodied voices rustling like a suffocating plastic bag. These evocative images coalesce into “You Were Never Really Here,” the latest feature from “We Need to Talk About Kevin” auteur Lynne Ramsay. Centered on moody mercenary Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), “You Were Never Really Here” is an experience; an exercise in psychological interiority encased in the promise of a punch-and-bludgeon crime thriller. Ramsay sinks rocks into the pockets of her viewers and plunges them into Lake “You Were Never Really Here,” where haunting sound design, lyrical cinematography (thanks, Tom Townend), and reverberating flashbacks ask you to live and relive Joe’s trauma right beside him. Add in a furtive plot that juxtaposes Joe’s suicidal suffering with that of a sexually abused teenage girl (Ekaterina Samsonov), and “You Were Never Really Here” becomes a film so finely-tuned and narratively masterful it’s almost infuriating to watch. It’s no wonder this was The Playlist’s highest-voted film of 2018, but still, let’s make it official: Welcome to number one, friend. If we knew you were comin’ we’d’a baked a cake. —Lena Wilson
Of course, this only represents the cream skimmed off the top of the overall ranking. There were a further 60 films that made the longlist, of which the closest to glory were: “Blindspotting,” “Vice,” “Can You Ever Forgive Me?” “Cold War” and “Crazy Rich Asians” — all just a point or two away from cracking the top 25. After that in positions 30-50, we had: “Mission: Impossible – Fallout,” “Widows,” “Thunder Road,” “Thoroughbreds,” “Love Simon,” “The Incredibles 2,” “Let The Sunshine In,” “The Tale,” “Custody,” “Claire’s Camera,” “Game Night,” “Upgrade,” “Madeline’s Madeline,” “1985,” “Araby,” “Foxtrot,” “Minding the Gap,” “Vox Lux,” “Museo,” “This is Congo,” two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Here’s hoping we’ve inspired some Christmas viewing/gifting — thank you for being with us all year and please stay tuned for more year-end best-of lists, before we rise like Lazarus from the bloody pulp of 2018 to be reborn in the new year, on what we firmly believe will be a beautiful day. (Clip contains “You Were Never Really Here” spoiler. Sorta.)
–Lists supplied by: Ryan Oliver, Lena Wilson, Oktay Ege Kozak, Will Ashton, Kyle Kohner, Gary Garrison, Bradley Warren, Ally Johnson, Chris Barsanti, Jordan Ruimy, Christian Gallicchio, Bennett Campbell Ferguson, Karl Schleider, Julia Teti, Tyler Casalini, David Pountain, Jessica Kiang, Oliver Lyttelton, Greg Ellwood, Rodrigo Perez, Charles Barfield, Warren Cantrell, Jonathan Christian, Ted Silva, Jamie Rogers, Cory Woodruff, Matt Sinclair, Alex Arabian, Erik McClanahan, Nikola Grozdanovic, Kimber Myers, Joe Blessing, Jason Ingolfsland.
Click here for our complete coverage of the best and worst of 2018.
Btw, here’s Griffin Schiller’s annual Best of The Year In Movies supercut.