“The Lighthouse” – What?
Robert Eggers stages an acting class exercise from hell with two of the best actors of their respective generations, resulting in one of the most iconic lines in recent memory. “The Lighthouse” is the kind of movie that only gets better the more you sit with it, and this scene is proof of the enduring shelf life it will have for future audiences.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJf-35QrxTw&t=39s
“Marriage Story” – Evaluation
I’ve cooled on Noah Baumbach’s personal look at divorce, “Marriage Story” since seeing it at TIFF, but I would never deny that when the film works, it really works. Even at his most insular (and the film definitely struggles for it), Baumbach is still one of our best writers, and his confidence behind the camera only gets better with every film. Yes, the now memed-to-death third act argument between Adam Driver and Scarlet Johannson is the scene everybody remembers most from the film (and yes, it’s a good scene that watched out of context is of course, melodramatic), but I honestly think the film works best when it’s at its lightest. I’ve always preferred dramatic Baumbach to be a bit more acidic than he is here, but he also has an underrated gift for directing physical comedy. With the aid of his longtime editor Jennifer Lame, the scene in which a perfectly droll Martha Kelly arrives at Driver’s home as a court-appointed evaluator is one of the most uncomfortable, broadly funny sequences of Baumbach’s career.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1wDHVDV1CI
“Midsommar” – Crying
Although I wasn’t a fan of Ari Aster’s follow-up to his incredibly funny and unnerving debut “Hereditary,” I can’t deny there are some truly insane moments in the film I won’t soon forget. In fact, that’s kind of the issue for me with “Midsommar.” Like “Hereditary,” it’s a film that alternates between genuinely horrific and darkly funny for most of its runtime, but it’s also just simply a film of moments, as opposed to the tightly edited and simmering dread of his debut. Far too baggy and unfocused, the films stronger moments (and there are a good amount) don’t ever fully connect because there’s a shocking amount of filler in between that doesn’t really add up to anything more than standard horror movie banter. But Aster’s a talented director who is able to conjure up some horrifying imagery in broad daylight, and he manages to stick the landing, delivering a third act on par with “Hereditary” and his earlier short work. Like “The Lighthouse,” the moment chosen here is one that could also feel like the most deeply uncomfortable acting exercise imaginable, seeing Florence Pugh (incredible as usual) in a hysterical crying fit with other women on the compound, which quickly morphs into an unorthodox therapy session.
“Once Upon At Time In Hollywood” – Spahn Ranch
I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that Quentin Tarantino’s films have suffered since the loss of his longtime editor, Sally Menke. Like the great Thelma Schoonmaker is to Scorsese, Menke was always Tarantino’s secret weapon. Since her tragic death earlier this decade, Tarantino has worked with Fred Raskin, who is undeniably talented, but clearly is more of a “yes man” than Menke ever was. Directors like Tarantino need a good editor to not only bring out the best in their brilliant work, but more importantly, to know when to put up a healthy fight for the film’s sake. “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is unquestionably the director’s best film of the 2010s, but it still suffers from an unevenness that has permeated through Tarantino’s recent string of films. It’s most noticeable in the sequences that attempt to string together the daily lives of its central characters, and for me personally, begged the question of the purpose of Sharon Tate as a character, and not just a means to an end. One elongated sequence at the midpoint of the film is undeniably brilliant though. Following Brad Pitt’s stuntman Cliff Booth to the infamous Spahn Ranch is one of the most well-directed scenes of Tarantino’s career. It’s a prime example of Tarantino at his most focused and instinctual, honoring both his western influences and surprisingly, feeling like something out of a 70s horror movie. It’s suspenseful, funny and deeply lived in.
“Our Time” – Esther’s Confession
Carlos Reygadas made a personal, sprawling tale of love, jealousy and deception with “Our Time,” allowing for a leisure runtime to explore a complicated relationship with his own wife. I would argue the runtime isn’t totally warranted, but it does allow for a lot more post-reflection than most films I saw this year. For most of the film, Reygadas keeps things intimate and contained, until a stunningly unexpected flight over the city, narrated by a wife’s painful confession. It’s one of the most exhilarating, profoundly cinematic moments of the year.
