The Best Films of 2014

1. Boyhood

The experience of Richard Linklater’s Boyhood is an immersion within time itself. We’re used to movies utilizing time as an easily manipulated element, cutting from scene to scene in a manner that best suites their narrative intentions. What Linklater accomplishes with this film, aside from (or rather, because of) his decision to shoot Ellar Coltrane, Patricia Arquette, Ethan Hawke, and his own daughter, Lorelei Linklater, over a period of 12 years, is the creation of a film that truly shows us the fleeting nature of moments.

As we see Mason, played by Coltrane, grow from a 6-year-old boy into a college freshman in one continuous, three-hour stretch, the impact of his growth hits us with every frame. Linklater understands that it isn’t just momentous events that shape us; we are always living in the present, within a particular environment. Therefore, even the smallest, most understated moments have the capacity to encompass who we grow into. A weaker film would’ve portrayed the events that shape Mason as contrived and sensationalized. In Boyhood, I believed every scene.

Linklater’s script is full of rich, naturalistic moments, supplemented by many developments that I’m sure were discovered by the director and his cast along a decade-long ride. Arquette and Hawke, as Mason’s parents, also give terrific performances, growing up with their son (one much sooner than the other) as they discover life’s inevitable joys and disappointments. Many viewers will relate heavily with the events depicted onscreen, but for those whose experiences may not mirror those of Mason’s family as closely, the film’s depiction of growth as a universal experience is still resonant.

Linklater possibly took one of the greatest risks in cinematic history, with a payoff that is simply extraordinarily. Boyhood is one of the best films ever made about growing up, because through its unprecedented technique, it shows us that the path from childhood to adulthood comes with recognizing that moments are fleeting, with hope found in the understanding that all moments are now. This film covers all the intricacies of this bittersweet notion, forming itself into a groundbreaking piece of cinematic realism.

Some go to the movies to get lost in the lives of others, which on occasion, provide a powerful glimpse into the human condition. Boyhood shows us the young life of one individual, offering a glimpse that truly is a game-changer. It takes a truly great film to actually affect how you look at yourself. But after seeing Linklater’s masterpiece, your perceptions of your own condition may very well change. And if the movie impacts you as much as it affected me, you may also carry these insights into each additional moment, telling your own story through each breath you take.

2. Under the Skin

This is a film that will stun you into silence. For most of Jonathan Glazer’s beautifully shot, uniquely unsettling science-fiction drama, I felt a sort of cold, sickening suspense building in my stomach. In many instances I was terrified, often finding myself holding my breath. Sound appealing? It’s more than that. Under the Skin is uncanny. It’s pure cinema, and dare I say, progressive cinema.

Drawing many comparisons to Kubrick, Glazer’s film stars Scarlett Johansson as an alien seductress who preys on Scottish men throughout the night, many of whom were non-actors captured on hidden cameras. She lures them into some disturbing vacuum of a dimension – just one of the movie’s many chilling ambiguities. Is Glazer’s film making a statement about the troublesome judgements we make based on gender? Perhaps. But it’s also undeniable that Under the Skin‘s goals are much more ambitious.

This film shows us our world, and ourselves, through the eyes of a non-human. And as Johansson’s character begins to wonder what it must be like to be a participant instead of an onlooker, and an entity with some perception of self and gender identity, misfortune naturally ensues; as onlookers ourselves, we see the consequences of an otherwordly being attempting assume a human role. Surrounded by a world she cannot fully understand, inhabited by beings capable of both graceful and evil behavior, Johansson steers an enigmatic performance into the alluring realm of tragedy.

The imagery that Glazer uses to visualize The Female’s perspective is endlessly thought-provoking, as we reflect on what she makes of what she sees, and as a result, what characteristics of ours she may not possess. Furthermore, which of these attributes are truly innate for us? Because of all we don’t know as we’re watching Under the Skin, we do know one thing – she is not the same. As it casts an atmospheric spell, featuring a sensationally eerie score by Mica Levi, this is the statement that highlights the film’s ingeniousness. Under the Skin, every so subtly, is asking its audience what makes them human. The method? An alien outlook.

3. Inherent Vice

Paul Thomas Anderson’s films age like fine whiskey, inviting viewers, who inevitably change over time, to make new perceptions. Inherent Vice is likely to be no exception, while within the film itself, it’s the characters’ surrounding environment that is changing. Thomas Pynchon’s wild, hilariously evocative language, which outlines the nutso transition out of the decade of discontent, is brought to the screen with loyalty to both tone and content, while Anderson’s challenging presentation reflects a necessary internalization of the Raymond Chandler-esque detective story set on the coast of Los Angeles, 1970.

Drawing inevitable comparisons to The Big Lebowski and The Long Goodbye, the film is an effortlessly different animal. Whether it’s by shooting a scene entirely in intense close-ups or letting a 5-6 minute long take work its cinematic magic, PTA’s creative choices are always unexpected, yet oddly suited to the material. And better yet, they allow us to absorb the full effect of the actors’ unhinged, pot-fueled fantasia.

Hippie detective Doc Sportello, masterfully played by Joaquin Phoenix, is definitely in a haze – not only due to the drugs, man, but also because of the dense, convoluted mess of a case he falls into. Imagine that you’re trying to piece together the details of a night of partying the night before. This is currently Doc’s everyday life, except the puzzle of details may or may not be important, and the environment in which he must pull them together is increasingly hostile toward his “kind.”

Although Inherent Vice is filled with absurdist sight gags and jokes, along with subtle transitions into what may be hallucination, it is a very real depiction of an era’s paranoid transformation. The wave of the idealistic ’60s has rolled back onto itself, and outcasts like Doc wander amidst a landscape that reeks of conspiracy upon conspiracy, and ultimately, the government’s intention to rid a generation from memory. This ties into Doc’s search for his “ex-old lady,” which drives the complex events that unfold amidst the bittersweet pull of nostalgia. The aesthetic of Inherent Vice is a time machine in and of itself, shot on 35mm in a fat 1:85.1 aspect ratio, and featuring music, costuming, and locations that seamlessly pull you into an era that was, well, pretty weird.

Channeling Pynchon, Anderson creates a beautiful, tragic, funny, and existential film that speaks to the area where he grew up, the New Hollywood era of filmmaking, the lost children of the hippie era, and to all of us who have felt an age of innocence slip away. Paralleling what PTA refers to as the “Tom and Jerry relationship” in The Master, some of the best moments in the film occur in scenes featuring Doc and macho cop Bigfoot Bjornsen (Josh Brolin). They’re partners, in a sense, that the system will never allow to be friends. Yet there is inherent empathy in their relationship, which is something we feel for most Inherent Vice‘s characters. They inhabit a film of both profound merits and low-brow quirks, just waiting to be discovered and rediscovered, time after time after time…

4. Birdman

Ignorance may have its virtues, but it definitely isn’t bliss. Michael Keaton gives the self-reflective performance of his career as Riggan Thomson, a former blockbuster film star who learns this all too well. As we careen through the corridors of Riggan’s mind, captured through the brilliantly vibrant and fluid cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki, his last hope to transition from fizzled-out, super hero icon to serious artist is marred by a series of disastrous escapades, as his personal life and attempt to stage a Raymond Carver adaptation cripple his already fragile state of being.

In the midst of it all, tragic and hilarious as it is, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s hurricane of creativity expresses a multitude of ideas regarding artistry versus commerce, mass entertainment versus elitist art, public persona in the digital age, the many meanings of self-validation, contemporary entertainment criticism, and the impact of identity, ambition, ego, and talent (or lack thereof) in transcending one’s limitations.

Meanwhile, the singular realm into which Birdman‘s imagery plants us is pretty mindblowing; even the scenes that are set on-stage are remarkably cinematic. But Inarritu’s film easily rises above gimmickry, in this respect – the fact that the whole movie is meant to look like a continuous shot allows the scenes to unfold organically, while fully getting the most out of these performances. That said, Emma Stone, Edward Norton, Zach Galifianakis, Amy Ryan, and Naomi Watts are all terrific in their supporting roles. Birdman even gives us a stunner of an ending, which I would go so far as to compare to final scene of Taxi Driver. Yet the whole package is truly more than the sum of its parts, a tour of one man’s subjective experiences that is as enjoyable watching as it is discussing countless days later.

5. Whiplash

Damien Chazelle, in only his second feature as a writer/director, has delivered the only film I’ve seen this year that’s made my knees shake. In the shoes of Miles Teller’s young jazz drummer, we feel every instance of negative reinforcement thrown at us by J.K. Simmons’ instructor (whose screen presence is out of this world) like a blow to the head. As the latter, using his relentless method, brings forth everything in his canister to thrust singular greatness out of the former, the drama evoked is that of an adrenaline-pumping thriller.

Every scene pulsates with an exhilarating sense of energy, the cutting during the film’s musical scenes assuring that you feel every moment. There are close-ups of blood splattering onto cymbals, or a bead of sweat dripping off Teller’s ear. Wherever Whiplash takes us, even risking accusations of absurdity, it makes sure we are there, hanging off the edge of our seats.

And while Simmons gives one of the year’s very best performances, the film, overall, is a remarkable piece of technical craft that refuses to compromise on entertainment value. Exploring the limits(?) of ambition, Chazelle visualizes his deceptively clever script (not short of humor, by any means) as cinematic jazz – unpredictable, edgy, suave, and at any moment, ready to explode into something wonderful.

6. The Babadook

Australian filmmaker Jennifer Kent’s debut feature is one of the horror genre’s best of the new century. Converging the fears of a single mother and her young, out-of-control son into a single domain, The Babadook cleverly weaves the tone of bizarre children’s storybooks (the particular brand that really scared your pants off as a kid) into an adult, psychologically-driven narrative.

Some of Kent’s imagery evokes that of silent, expressionist horror films, while maintaining exceedingly unnerving, darkly comic vibes. She is ultimately prone to the very true  inclination, largely ignored in modern genre movies, that the scariest ideas stem from true human fears, along with the monsters inside all of us; or even more terrifyingly, the ones that we let in.

7. Ida

Remember when films actually took their meaning seriously? Pawel Pawlikowski does. Ida, shot in beautifully stark black-and-white, is all about buried secrets. Prior to taking her vows, Anna, a young, convent-confined nun visits her alcoholic aunt, a former Stalinist prosecutor, who reveals Anna’s Jewish descent and that her parents were killed during World War II.

The setting of 1960s Poland is the basis of Pawlikowski’s modernist aesthetic, providing the basis for an art film that very much seems from another era, one in which such nations saw no other choice than to entomb recent, unimaginable horrors. Their uncovering lies within the fate of these two characters, raised in opposing worlds, whose travels are that of a very different type of road movie. What then, for both the country’s future, and their own? Ida brings its audience along a haunting journey of discovery, one of both personal and historical significance. It breathes fire from the past.

8. Foxcatcher

Foxcatcher, directed by Bennett Miller, is a movie of brooding brilliance. Its stylization is so fitting to the story that it remains unnoticed, while the audience becomes so absorbed within the film’s cold tension that as the fascinating, true-to-life events unfold before us, the outcome, however inevitable, still strikes to the core. As John du Pont, Steve Carell gives a deeply unsettling, transformative performance, embodying the old-money-powered millionaire who preys on the talents of others for self-validation.

It’s a pessimistic depiction of the American dream gone wrong, as the power dynamic between du Pont and Olympic Gold Metal winning wrestlers Mark (Channing Tatum) and Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo) leads to an increasingly bleak outcome throughout Mark’s training for Seoul in 1988. Miller deservedly won Best Director at Cannes; what he accomplishes with the three leads is outstanding work. Honestly, it’s Tatum who possibly gives the best performance in Foxcatcher. The compelling darkness, like that evoked in film, must’ve held him in a firm sleeper hold.

9. Gone Girl

David Fincher’s Gone Girl, adapted by Gillian Flynn from her own popular novel, is just about the best that mass entertainment can do. A roller coaster of a film, packed with plot twists, pitch black humor, and more biting social satire than you can shake a tabloid magazine at, Fincher’s technical craft and stylistic flair is on full display. Rosamund Pike, meanwhile, brings the goods on home. It might be the most fun I’ve had at the movies this year.

10. Nightcrawler

Nightcrawler makes for a fine companion to Fincher’s film, its farcical look at the 21st century news media and job market sending chills down my spine, while I laughed in spite of myself. Dan Gilroy, an established screenwriter making his directorial debut, crafts such a unique thriller that you’d think he’s been directing for years, while cinematographer Robert Elswit evokes the hypnotic underbelly of L.A. with gorgeous, gruesome images (swapping between glorious film during the day and gritty, skin-of-your-teeth digital at night). Jake Gyllenhaal, in yet another juicy role, gives 150% as the ultimate sociopath. His character occasionally breaks the fourth wall, staring directly at the audience, and challenging us to accept that people like him actually exist.

In those moments, we’re not the ones laughing.

More of the Best…

11. The Grand Budapest Hotel

12. The LEGO Movie

13. Only Lovers Left Alive

14. Snowpiercer

15. The Double

16. Nymphomaniac

17. Animals

18. Locke

19. The Immigrant

20. Interstellar

Honorable Mentions: Blue Ruin, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Edge of Tomorrow, Enemy, Godzilla, Jodorowsky’s Dune, Life Itself, The Raid 2 (pictured)

Please Note: I’ve yet to catch a few January stragglers, including American Sniper, A Most Violent Year, Selma, and Still Alice. Hopefully, I can also hit up Citizenfour, The Dance of Reality, Goodbye to Language, The Theory of Everything, and 20,000 Days on Earth relatively soon.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers to 2015 – the year of the hoverboard.