20. “Birds of Passage” (2018)
An epic folktale and a gangster ballad, “Birds of Passage,” was made for the canvas of the movie screen. The transcendent film places real-world history against a mythological backdrop, blending genre influence invisibly into its narrative. A culturally-specific crime tragedy broken into five distinct acts (labeled “songs” in the film) our tale (brought to life by directors Ciro Guerra and Cristina Gallego) begins with a peasant from a poor family who wishes to win the heart of a princess. In order to gain her hand, he treks up the sierras in search of gold to win over her family. He finds marijuana instead, takes advantage of some American tourists, and has soon bartered his way up to earning a place by his princess’ side. More seeds of forbidden fruit are planted throughout the film, paralleling the rise of the Columbian drug cartel. “Birds of Passage,” is a specific yet timeless talisman that’s about as beautifully realized and strikingly made as motion pictures get. The piece feels like a fresh approach to a classic structure, hybridizing the old and turning it into something wholly original. Between the incredible production design, dazzling cinematography and just how well it sticks the emotional wallop of a landing, “Birds of Passage” is pure, unadulterated world cinema. – AB
19. “45 Years” (2015)
2015 was the year of the immaculately-crafted, delicately drawn humanist drama (Brooklyn” and “Carol”), but Andrew Haigh’s brilliant “45 Years”— about a crack in the past that disrupts the seemingly tranquil life of an elderly couple about to celebrate their 45th wedding anniversary—was arguably next level. An emotionally rich and incredibly well-observed drama about an awakening—the unearthing of a lie that has unknowingly shaped their lives— “45 Years” is brilliantly constructed. On the eve of their 45th wedding anniversary, Tom Courtenay is sent an unexpected letter: the body of his former fiancée, who died in a Swiss Alps mountain climbing accident some 50 years ago, has been found perfectly preserved in ice. A tsunami of dormant memories is unleashed, and a soft, but discernible tailspin ensues. Meanwhile, his wife (an astonishing Charlotte Rampling, in a career-best performance), preparing for this wedding anniversary party, comes to understand, to her horror, she’s lead a life of second best. All the while the movie works as a thriller, a time bomb ticking down to the day of their anniversary that takes place five days from the day of discovery from this literally once-frozen-memory in time. Beyond the perfect metaphors, the subtle borrowing of genre and ace architecture of story, “45 Years” is just so wounding. A symphony of gut-wrenching emotions plays on Rampling’s face and behind her eyes and in its very English manner, the movie charts the taciturn sentiments we, as people, cannot express or articulate. Heartbreaking to its core, “45 Years” is about the damage done. Haigh’s film posits that we keep secrets from the ones we love the most, but the price of those emotional revelations and betrayals are irreparably devastating. – RP
18. “A Prophet” (2010)
Placing his bracing authorial stamp on every genre he tackles, whether it’s the American Western (“The Sisters Brothers”), the romantic melodrama (“Rust and Bone”) or the modern immigrant story (“Dheepan”), filmmaker Jacques Audiard defining work to date is “A Prophet,” which stands as one of the most singular crime sagas of the last twenty years. Like many films helmed by this particular director, “A Prophet” is a story of transformation. Tahar Rahim (“The Looming Tower”) has never been more terrifyingly believable than he is playing the film’s hero, Malik: a soft-spoken Algerian tough who ascends the ruthless hierarchy of a French prison to become a mob-boss-in-training who executes murder with a proudly casual indifference. The scene where Malik kills his first inmate is one of the messiest, most disturbing on-screen executions ever witnessed, and renowned French thespian Niels Arestrup summons Corleone-like levels of fear and power as the Corsican kingpin who takes our all-too-easily-persuaded hero under his wing. – NL
17. “First Reformed” (2017)
The only film to successfully blends eco-terrorism, Pepto-Bismol laced cocktails, levitation, and Cedric the Entertainer, “First Reformed” is a wildly audcious effort that unexpectedly captures the cultural zeitgeist. A sure-fired response to living in a political era provoked by fear and paranoia, as well as meta-reflection of his own work, Paul Schrader essentially updates his “Taxi Driver” narrative device to 2018 with an even more morally conflicted anti-hero. It’s the kind of film only an old man with zero fucks left to give could really make, with scenes stretching out to the point of discomfort with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It’s also Schrader’s first film in over a decade that feels completely and utterly in control from start to finish, maintaining a simmering dread makes the truly bonkers ending all the more effective. Is it a glimmer of hope or a delusion? In these mad times, perhaps it’s both. — MR
16. “Phantom Thread” (2017)
Paul Thomas Anderson and Daniel Day-Lewis’s much-anticipated reunion is about as far removed from “There Will Be Blood” as you can get, with Anderson trading that film’s brutalist frontier capitalism for the comparatively calm world of ‘50s London fashion. It’s thus tempting to regard “Phantom Thread” as the director’s most sedate work. It’s not. This is a proudly freaky left turn of a movie – simultaneously perverse, romantic, and just plain weird. If anything, the Anderson picture it most resembles is the topsy-turvy “Punch-Drunk Love”: oddball love stories about temperamental men, and the unwaveringly patient women who love them. It’s all too easy to assess “Phantom Thread” as a movie about a damaging relationship, when it’s really about the nimble dance between adoration and abasement that two flawed people must perform if they wish to remain together. – NL
15. “Mad Max: Fury Road” (2015)
The fourth entry in George Miller’s long-running action saga could’ve gone wrong in any number of ways, from the risky casting to the dangerous stunts to the streamlined storytelling. Instead, the Australian master cooked up a spotless, maximalist opera of sound, fury and shiny chrome. The logical end result of thirty-plus years of grand myth-making, ‘Fury Road’ borrows the grubby outlaw ethos of the original “Mad Max,” the nihilistic world-building of “The Road Warrior” and the grand, kinky mania of “Beyond Thunderdome,” rendering the result much more than the sum of their rust-coated parts. Simply put, ‘Fury Road’ is one of the great action spectacles of all time: a howling-mad bonanza of fervor and fire. – NL
14. “20th Century Women” (2016)
Mike Mills makes cinematic scrapbooks that are at once deeply personal and immersive, mining his own very particular and private life experiences to emerge with tragically comic (or is it comically tragic?) works that are universal in their resonance. Following “Thumbsucker” and“Beginners,” “20th Century Women” complete Mills’ unofficial trilogy of young manhood in flux – which is a curious prospect to deliberate, as Mills’ most sophisticated and reflective film to date is very much about women. Among other things, “20th Century Women” is a cinematic dedication to Mills’ own mother; embodied here by a soulful, startlingly present Annette Benning. It’s also an affectionate snapshot of Santa Barbara in the late 1970s, a glimpse at the embryonic stages of punk and alternative culture in Southern California, and a chance for actors like Greta Gerwig, Elle Fanning, and Billy Crudup to do some of the best work of their careers. In other words: it’s a movie no one but Mike Mills could have made. – NL
13. “Carol” (2015)
Todd Haynes’s feast of aesthetic riches that would be enjoyable as a pure style object if it weren’t also a heartbreaking assessment of codependency, obsession, and forbidden love. Adapted from Patricia Highsmith’s 1952 novel “The Price of Salt,” “Carol” is a story of two women who find themselves inexorably thrust into each other’s orbit: a meek department store clerk named Therese (Rooney Mara) and Carol (Cate Blanchett), the larger-than-life society gal to whom Therese finds herself drawn like a moth to lamplight. This is a plush, picturesque, sometimes skillfully unsettling film that boasts creamy, pastel-bathed cinematography from the great Ed Lachman, and tremendous supporting turns from the likes of Sarah Paulson, Jake Lacy, and Kyle Chandler. It’s Haynes’ finest work to date. – NL
12. “You Were Never Really Here” (2017)
Director Lynne Ramsay teams with star Joaquin Phoenix to make an action film that simultaneously deconstructs the modern revenge thriller, breaking it down to the bare-bones essentials. Ramsay’s depiction of violence has always been more visceral and complex than her male counterparts, so watching her fully embrace the mechanics of the genre is spellbinding; images of mental and physical abuse are all the more effective for her restraint and unwillingness to fetishize. (The choice to view what would normally be a hyper-stylized fight sequence through grainy security cameras is not only bold, but one of the most surprisingly funny sequences of her career.) No actor alive better embodies brokenness than Joaquin Phoenix, whose instinctiveness as an actor has rarely found a better directorial match. Ramsay understands the power he holds in his face (and the things he can thus leave unsaid). Together they craft a lean, mean meditation on both physical exploitation, and exploitation cinema. — MR
11. “Get Out” (2017)
Great movies come and go, but few land with the force and impact of Jordan Peele’s prophetic, satirical horror flick. Taking its stylistic cues from the likes of “Rosemary’s Baby” and “The Stepford Wives,” while hinting at an entirely new set of thematic and sociopolitical concerns, the creepy-funny “Get Out” was the movie-going event of 2017. Bypassing the easy, self-congratulatory takedown of red-state xenophobia, “Get Out” daringly suggested that white latte liberalism posed a greater threat to the safety of Daniel Kaluuya’s petrified protagonist than any pitchfork-wielding redneck ever could. An Oscar-winning pop culture sensation (Google “The Sunken Place” for proof) “Get Out” remains a formidable cultural landmark that is not easily shaken, and a film of ideas that have only grown more relevant. – NL