20. Joaquin Phoenix, “The Master”
Joaquin Phoenix appears to be more beast than man throughout much of “The Master,” and it’s hard to dispute that this is one of his most feral performances. As the lost, dispossessed Freddie Quell, Phoenix is pure need and want: a creature of bottomless appetites that may never be sated. What does Freddie Quell want, exactly? Perhaps he wants to be accepted into a collective that is greater than just one individual, which would explain his almost canine-like loyalty to the arrogant cult leader Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman, proving to be every bit an equal as Phoenix’s frequent screen partner). Perhaps he is searching for romantic love, although his dalliances with the fairer sex rarely seem to go as planned. At one point, he’s simply searching for a job, although he’s not very good at holding those down either. Phoenix never really lets us see what’s driving Freddie Quell beyond a pure, animalistic compulsion to transcend his lesser qualities, and it’s that sense of lingering, opaque mystery that makes this one of the great actor’s most endlessly rewatchable performances. Some have argued that the acting here isn’t subtle, though we would argue that Phoenix’s reactions during the movie’s agonizing “processing” scenes contain some of the most understated work he’s ever done. What’s tough to dispute is that Phoenix and his director, Paul Thomas Anderson, are a match made in movie-lover heaven, which is probably why this and their other collaboration (the instant-classic stoner noir “Inherent Vice”) are two of the very best films of the 2010’s. – NL
19. Daniel Kaluuya, “Get Out”
It’s easy to overlook the subtle dynamism of Daniel Kaluuya’s performance in Jordan Peele’s zeitgeist-bating horror milestone “Get Out.” After all, this is a movie filled with big, weird performances: from the likes of Alison William’s nightmarish manifestation of Basic White Girl-ness, Caleb Landry Jones’ sinister younger brother, Bradley Whitford as an Obama-loving neoliberal hypocrite, and comedian Lil’ Rey Howery as the most memorable TSA agent in the history of movies. However, repeat viewings underline the point that Kaluuya is rather remarkably playing an Everyman spectator here: a captive African-American witness to a well-tailored house of white horrors the likes of which genre filmmaking had not previously seen. Kaluuya is also a more chameleonic actor than he generally gets credit for: who else could play a sadistic, hair-trigger criminal lackey in Steve McQueen’s “Widows” and also a genteel, easygoing Man of God who is forced into a life of criminality in this year’s “Queen and Slim?” In a movie filled with performances that could arguably be called over-the-top, Kaluuya acts as the story’s very necessary, sobering human center. It can’t be easy, essentially reacting to a series of increasingly depraved and surreal events as Kaluuya does here, but the young actor does precisely that and makes it look easy. While Lupita N’yongo swung for the proverbial fences as the lead of Peele’s polarizing follow-up, “Us,” the warm, unfussy sensitivity of Kaluuya’s work in “Get Out” has us hoping that the two decide to work together again at some point in the future. – NL
18. Yalitza Aparicio, “Roma”
The soft power in Alfonso Cuarón‘s ambitious memory piece “Roma” is without question its quiet, soulful anchor Yalitza Aparicio. Shockingly nominated for a Best Actress Oscar (not because she didn’t deserve it, but because the Academy generally doesn’t reward unknown actors in a Foreign Language film), “Roma” took the film culture by storm in 2018 and much of it centered on the visual splendor and grandeur of the movie—shot in long, immerse takes with a ton of choreography going on inside its luxurious compositions. The movie is about Cuarón’s family, childhood and upbringing, but mostly seen through the eyes of the invisible: the help, in this case, the nanny/domestic worker who helped raise him as a boy, a spiritual mother essentially. And while, the movie is a loveletter, its formalism prevents the drama from being a romanticized hagiography of this woman as saint. Cleo (Aparicio) mostly silently endures the world around her and is often put through hell. The movie gently considers the idea of servitude and quote unquote family member and the difficult blurring and occasionally jarring focus of those lines. Throughout it all, Cleo observes, contemplates and absorbs the world around taking in suffering, pain, heartbreak and love. Its beautifully interior and subtle stuff and still kind of incredible it was as recognized as it was. Good on ya Academy, but hey industry, please don’t forget Yalitza Aparicio. – RP
17. Ralph Fiennes, “The Grand Budapest Hotel”
Like Royal Tenenbaum, Monsieur Gustave H., the quick-witted concierge hero of Wes Anderson’s screwball fantasia “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” is a character that could come across as sleazy or unlikeable in a lesser actor’s hands. After all, Gustave is a raconteur, a hedonist, and a con artist prone to stealing valuable works of art and seducing gullible elderly women. And yet, because he’s played by the one and only Ralph Fiennes, Gustave is an enchanting screw-up: an imperfect but ultimately pure-hearted hero straight out of a P.G. Wodehouse novel. And like Gene Hackman in Anderson’s earlier masterwork about a family of geniuses who have fallen from grace, Fiennes gets to act as the nucleus of pure, unfiltered personality in a film where many of the supporting performers are delivering their lines in the poe-faced deadpan register that Anderson so often prefers. Fiennes also makes a marvelously manic foil for his younger co-star Tony Revelori, who plays an idealistic young lobby boy who unwittingly stumbles into his dream job. In fact, Fiennes is such a damn near perfect fit for Anderson’s peculiar universe that it comes as a shock, watching the film, to consider that they hadn’t worked together before this film. Hopefully it won’t be long before they work together again.– NL
16. Ethan Hawke, “First Reformed”
“Who can know the mind of God?” is a question that is asked at one point during Paul Schrader’s righteously indignant “First Reformed,” and it’s a question that goes unanswered, all the way up until the film’s everything-but-the-kitchen-sink final scenes. What Schrader and his leading man Ethan Hawke attempt to do in this angry, essential film is filter big, celestial questions through the quest of a man whose essential quandary is all too recognizably human. Hawke is one of those actors who’s good in just about everything – he tends to give great performances even in bad movies – but it feels safe to say that he’s never enjoyed a role quite like Reverend Ernst Toller in “First Reformed.” Toller is another one of God’s Lonely Men, which is to say, he’s a protagonist in a Paul Schrader movie. Toller is a man desperately seeking to hold onto whatever semblance of faith he has left in a world that seems all but determined to prove that his faith is meaningless. When confronted with the all-too-real threat of climate crisis and environmental extermination, Toller’s cautious optimism curdles into something terrifying: an unapologetic embrace of nihilism and entropy, replete with disarming hallucinations, confrontations with friends and co-workers, and an unforgettable bit of Drano-drinking. Hawke is forceful and frightening in “First Reformed,” doing some of the best work of his career in a film that provides him with no shortage of incredible material to draw upon. We cannot know the mind of God, but if “First Reformed” is any indication, we can know the mind of Ernst Toller – and by all accounts, it’s a pretty goddamn scary place to be. – NL
15. Oscar Isaac, “Inside Llewyn Davis”
Oscar Isaac has been carving a niche for himself since 1998, but it truly was with the Coen Brothers’ contemplative portrait of a tired artist that the world was forced to take notice. As the title character in “Inside Llewyn Davis,” Isaac wears a firm frown of age-old weariness – it feels emblematic of the directors’ embrace of theatrical Jewishness that favors skepticism over goodwill. Isaac is dressed in a disheveled suit but a well-groomed beard, seemingly to exemplify the man’s paradoxical self-esteem that wants to believe the worth in his musical ability, but also has such a derogative view of the world that any positive potential can only be seen as a trap. In no more than a straight face and a small sigh, Isaac treats condescension with contempt, reaching sharp levels of comedic reward while also eliciting empathy for the hardships that come with trying to pursue art as a profession. His character goes through a journey, painstakingly but also somewhat reluctantly trying to develop professionally and level out emotionally – but there’s something in the overwhelming tiredness in his frame, the resignation at the state of the world and those living in it who have left him on his own. It’s enough to make you fall in love with him, want to forget he ever existed, need to help him in any way possible. And that’s just the acting – the only word for his musical ability in this film, deployed on a handful of occasions, is nothing short of revelatory. – EK
14. Marion Cotillard, “Two Days, One Night”
After a frantic phone Sandra (Marion Cotillard) breaks down in front of the bathroom sink. In the hands of lesser talent, “Two Days, One Night’s” constant influx of intimate melodrama could have been tackled less delicately and become overwhelming. But the Dardenne Brothers know a thing or two about balancing sweaty realism with quiet moments of human composure. What Cotillard is able to convey, sometimes only through her eyes and body language, is astonishing, whether simply standing on her own two feet in front of a single person — pleading a fellow co-worker not to fire her — or sitting in a car seat, singing along to “Gloria.” In one scene, she chugs a bottle of water so as not to hyperventilate; rolling down the window, she sticks her head out into the fresh air and sunlight, before the seat-belt alarm starts beeping and her moment of escape is interrupted. Cotillard’s attempts to remain calm throughout draining conversations, masking her measuring of what to say, and how precisely to say it, while veiling her honest emotions, is an acting masterclass. If you need a reminder as to why she’s one of the most distinguished performers in all of world cinema, you won’t find a stronger example than “Two Days, One Night.” – AB
13. Rooney Mara, “Carol”
Throughout the entirety of “Carol,” it’s hard to take your eyes off of Cate Blanchett. This is a naturally glamorous actress who director Todd Haynes frames with a reverent, almost religious eye like he was painting a face onto the roof of the Sistine chapel. Blanchett admittedly has the showier role in Haynes’ pained tale of romantic taboo in 1950s America, but it is Rooney Mara’s performance that grows more breathtaking with every subsequent viewing. In many ways, Mara’s Therese Belivet acts as the audience proxy. Upon first seeing Blanchett’s namesake heroine, she’s every bit as gobsmacked as we are. Therese, though she clocks hours at a swanky department store in Manhattan, is also a photographer: someone used to playing the role of the voyeur. Mara’s acting can seem passive on the surface, but this impression is, ultimately, a mere testament to the extraordinary sense of restraint that the actress brings to this part. In a film obsessed with surface impressions, Therese presents viewers with a tricky one: this is a woman who projects a waiflike innocence in everyday interactions with wealthy customers and her well-meaning but goofy boyfriend (Jake Lacy), and yet, within her exists a roiling cauldron of loneliness and repressed ardor that is just dying to find a proper outlet. Mara, somehow, attunes those two conflicting registers into perfect harmony. The result is the actress’s most acutely observed performance yet. –NL
12. Charlotte Rampling, “45 Years”
A study of marital infidelity where no one physically cheats, “45 Years” asks a difficult question with an inevitable, painful answer. When Geoff (Tom Courtenay) gets word that his old girlfriend’s body has been found in a glacier crevasse, it’s just days before his 45th wedding anniversary. This death was the result of a freak accident and occurred years before Geoff met his current wife, Kate (Charlotte Rampling), yet the revelation turns the couple’s world upside down. As details emerge about Geoff’s ex, it becomes clear to Kate that she’s been little more than a stand-in for the true love of her husband’s life. True to her English roots, Kate adds some starch to her upper lip and carries on with the anniversary party planning, yet each revelation about the former flame, from her name to the way she styled her hair, adds color to a terrible picture beginning to take shape. Rampling is superb as the increasingly gutted wife who learns that while no cheating took place during her marriage, betrayal has endured all the same. It’s a career-defining performance with layers of subterranean grief and anguish glimpsed but never fully revealed, demonstrating a remarkable level of craft. -WC
11. Casey Affleck, “Manchester by the Sea”
A portrait of a man fully consumed by guilt and grief, Casey Affleck’s turn as Lee in “Manchester by the Sea” is a clinic in subterranean expression. Racked with anguish and self-loathing over a tragic accident that robbed Lee of his family, the movie catches up to him a few years after the defining event, when he learns of his brother’s sudden passing. Forced to return to the town where his family tragedy occurred, Lee must confront the trauma he’s been running from in the interim, picking at an exposed nerve that has never (and likely never will be) fully healed. Affleck could have easily gone big with the performance, turning in a Sean Penn “Mystic River”-esque turn that allowed him to pad his Oscar reel. Yet in going the other direction, burying the grief beneath layers of emotional flagellation, Affleck allows for the small, controlled eruptions to carry that much more weight. Affleck’s crippling encounter with his ex-wife (Michelle Williams) in a parking lot, and later, his benediction to nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges), hit with more impact than a dozen screaming or wailing moments, and is a credit to Affleck’s range and control as an actor. -WC