Cast: Frances McDormand, Woody Harrelson, Sam Rockwell
Run Time: 1 hour 55 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
I had been resisting watching Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri,which has been probably the most violently divisive entry in the awards bait canon in a year that's rumbling with controversy. But after it won the Golden Globe, I felt obligated to weigh in, so here are my way-too-late thoughts on the project. Strap in folks, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
Why couldn't The Greatest Showman have won, so I could just review that again?
So, here's the plot. It's been seven months since Mildred Hayes' (Frances McDormand) daughter was raped and murdered. Still struggling with how to handle the loss and find closure in the case, she rents out three billboards on the road leading into town blaming the police - and especially the beloved Chief Willoughby (Woody Harrelson), who is struggling with cancer - for not making any headway. This stirs up a lot of backlash from the town and creates a firestorm of conversation and controversy.
Policeman Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell) - that's literally his name, I don't know what to tell you - is already prone to violent rages so this doesn't bode well for the town's spirit in general. But she also gets different degrees of support and blowback from her grieving son Robbie (Lucas Hedges, who is there with bells on if you have a part in an Oscarbait movie where he gets to do an accent), the "town midget" James (Peter Dinklage), and her abusive ex-husband Charlie (John Hawkes), who is now living with his 19-year-old girlfriend Penelope (Samara Weaving). Mildred meets the blowback of the town with endless tough-mother posturing and kicking dudes in the balls.
Imagine this picture times thirty and you pretty much get it.
It's very tempting to approach this filmfrom a moral perspective instead of a critical one, which has become ever-so common in today's online film culture. And while I would never argue that the faults of the characters (their use of offensive, outdated terms, for one thing) are faults of the movie, Three Billboards is necessarily about the muddiness of morality and redemption. It invites us to consider the morality of these characters as the story's prime currency, and that invitation leaves it vulnerable because those themes are clunky and entirely mishandled.
For one thing, this is a story about sexual assault and violence against women that was written by a man. For another thing, this is a story about racial injustice and police violence that was written by a white man. For a-f**king-nother thing, this is a story where Woody Harrelson's wife is played by a woman who's 21 years younger than him and is forced to stumble through a line about how great his penis is.
And to be frank, a white man writing this story isn't necessarily a liability. It just shouldn't be this white man. Martin McDonagh somehow manages to write a script with a central thesis on racial injustice that features three black characters with speaking roles in a cast of dozens, and two of those speaking roles have fewer words than your average cough drop wrapper. And the foregrounded statements about women fighting against assault are couched in an endlessly repetitive litany of scenes of McDormand dishing out cartoon violence with impunity. It swivels from being gritty and violent to quippy and light in lurching, uneven motions, and never manages to stretch a consistent tone over more than ten minutes at a time.
The one scene where she doesn't have her fist planted firmly up a man's ass.
The plot is messy and irritating, even though the script does find its moments to shine when the humor is isolated enough from the drama to not feel so maudlin and strained. But the actors living out that plot are pretty uniformly terrific. Frances McDormand has already been more than recognized for her work here, but she really is superb, embodying her role in a very physical, top-down performance that doesn't skimp on the little gestures and details. She even redeems some of the dumb mama grizzly scenes, peeling back layer upon layer of the character that isn't present on the page.
Sam Rockwell is doing fine work here too, especially in his most comic dopey moments, but his character is a little too off the rails of actual human behavior that he is forced to fall back on the marble-mouthed mumbling that most actors do when they want to be tough in movies set in the South. Then there's Harrelson and Dinklage being exactly as good as you'd expect (but not much more).
But honestly, if I was in charge of handing out the awards, I'd make sure not to overlook Samara Weaving, who is straight-up brilliant in an unforgiving role, constantly approaching it at a sideways angle you wouldn't expect. She's the only consistently hilarious element of Three Billboards, and that's saying something for a movie that tries very hard to be hilarious.
It is my burden to be blessed with such good taste in actresses.
However, Martin McDonagh the writer is much more successful than Martin McDonagh the director (which is saying something). He mostly just sits back and lets his excellent cast work their magic, not attempting to do anything particularly interesting with the visuals. The man only really comes alive when it's time to shoot the titular billboards, which his camera swoops over and around with pornographic fervor every time they appear.
And thus does Three Billboards spill out across the screen in a tangled mess of misguided morality and wasted talent. I found it hard to hate, but it's too slapdash to recommend. The fact that it won the Golden Globe speaks to what an uneven slate of films we've been presented with this year more than anything else.
TL;DR:Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri is kind of a mess, but it really does boast some noteworthy performances.
How has it already been seven years since the original Insidious? This franchise is already as venerable as Saw was when it reached its pre-2017 conclusion, and that's a cold hard fact I'm just not ready to face.
Well, more than half a decade in we've reached if not a final film, at least a turning point in this baby brother franchise to The Conjuring: the film that connects the events of prequel Chapter 3 and the original film, completing the arc of Elise Rainier (Lin Shaye's medium character, who went from being the Zelda Rubinstein of the series to helming two horror tentpole features, which is by far the coolest thing about these movies).
The fact that a 74-year-old character actress is now headlining movies for teens makes me absolutely giddy.
Insidious: The Last Key traces Elise's roots back to her hometown of Five Keys, New Mexico. When a client calls her to investigate a haunting in her own childhood home, she and her sidekicks Tucker (Angus Sampson) and Specs (Leigh Whannell, who returned to pen the script for the fourth time, beating out Saw, which he bailed on after three entries) encounter the demon Keyface (Javier Botet), who is the key to unlocking the secrets of Elise's past.
It's literally impossible to talk about this movie without accidentally making at least 32 key puns.
I initially approached this movie looking for subtext I could use for my new Dread Central column Brennan Went to Film School (first article out January 16th!), and I had my mind blown just a teensy bit. There is a lot of material surging beneath the surface here. While I chose to focus on the feminist Me Too metaphors for sexual assault and whistleblowing, there's also a lot of material about the cycle of abuse and creating your own family. I'm just getting this out of the way now, because I won't really be mentioning these things in my review, as important as they are. You'll just have to wait for my column, folks. It's a goodun.
But as surreptitiously smart as the film is, there's still something a little unsatisfying about the way the story plays out. The plot introduces a lot of threads that are never returned to (the opening quite obviously sets up that Keyface needs to open five doors for some nefarious purpose - and his fingers even have four out of five keys - but instead of having a Thanos-esque collection of keys provide our ticking clock to some grand evil, only one door is ever opened and that plot goes nowhere), some setups with microscopic payoff (they make such a big deal out of Specs having lights on his glasses, and then he never really uses them), and in general it just reeks of cuts and reshoots.
And the intelligence of the screenplay screeches to a halt every time Bruce Davison is onscreen as Elise's younger brother Christian. He is forced through a meat grinder of maudlin, exhausting family drama tropes that simultaneously accomplish the twin feats of deflating the tension and making him look like an idiot horror movie character.
The reason this has happened is that he went to a haunted house to find a whistle he had no reason to believe was actually there. His Mensa membership card is not in the mail.
Also, the real insidious presence that has always been in this franchise is the comic relief from Specs and Tucker, who can sometimes hit the perfect pitch, but mostly feel a little jammed-in and reek of flop sweat. That stench reaches its peak here, where most of the humor is mined from their creepy obsession with Elise's much-younger nieces, who arrive about halfway through the film and are subject to non-stop leering from that point on. It's creepy and it's icky, and it ever so slightly undermines the rest of the actually smart stuff the script has to say.
But... Taking all that into account, there is some pretty effective atmosphere at work here. The Last Key lacks most of the jack-in-the-box jolts that have defined the franchise (save for one scare gag, which utilizes a hoary old trope and flips it on its head in the best possible way), relying on some slow burn creepy imagery to add fuel to that fire. The key image from the trailers - the demonic finger key going into a girl's neck - is obviously incredible, as is the Keyface demon itself (I maintain that Javier Botet is the Lon Cheney of our time, bringing incredible monsters to life and consistently being the best part in films both terrific and mediocre, including [REC], Mama, It, The Conjuring 2, The Other Side of the Door, The Mummy, Alien: Covenant, Crimson Peak, and even The Revenant).
Plus, you can never go wrong with Lin Shaye. In her long career she's been handed a lot of crap, but the woman who can take a one scene role in Amityville: A New Generation and make it a layered portrayal/highlight of the movie has earned a lead role and she crushes it.
And I won't say much about this, but there is a plot twist that will send chills down your spine, blasting into the safe PG-13 world of The Last Key like a window suddenly opened to the burning sunlight. As a popcorn horror movie, it's weaker than the previous entries, but there's still something there that's more than worth seeing, if you're into this sort of thing. And to the tune of $51 million worldwide, it seems that somebody out there definitely is.
TL;DR: Insidious: The Last Key is a little bit underwhelming, but it's smarter than it has any right to be.
Cast: Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet, Michael Stuhlbarg
Run Time: 2 hours 12 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
As a gay film reviewer, I felt personally and professionally obligated to watch Call Me By Your Name, the new film from Italian director Luca Guadagnino, which has been nominated for a pile of Golden Globes and will surely be one of the most buzzed-about Oscars titles in the coming months. (Plus, as a horror fan, I needed to do some reconnaissance on the man who is currently helming the Suspiria remake.) I'm happy another gay film is getting such a big awards push. The years were long between Brokeback Mountain and Moonlight, and it's time for LGBT stories to hit the big time. But until our stories become mainstream in a legitimately major way, we're still stuck in the Oscarbait realm, a genre that I don't really like all that much.
Pictured: Me attempting to interact with fancy-people movies.
Based on the novel by André Aciman, Call Me By Your Name tells the story of six long weeks in the dead of summer in 1983. At a palazzo in Northern Italy, 17-year-old Elio (Timothée Chalamet) finds his lazy days are beginning to heat up with the arrival of graduate student Oliver (Armie Hammer), who has come to intern with his anthropology professor father (Michael Stuhlbarg). Other than some initial resistance and the inevitable end to their time together, there is very little drama to be had here. Their love blossoms as they lay in the grass and lounge by the pool. And sometimes Oliver actually does some work, though you start to wonder if Michael Stuhlbarg doesn't just cart in students so his son can get it in.
At any rate, his Father of the Year award is in the mail.
It's difficult for one to review a film so purely dedicated to the depiction of aesthetic and sensual pleasures. Especially when one didn't really like it quite as much as the rest of the world. But let me say this: If the sole reason you're watching Call Me By Your Name is to get some gorgeous, sun-dappled shots of the Italian countryside (and you have every right to approach it this way), you will love this movie. But after a certain point it begins to feel like a screensaver and not an actual narrative.
It does capture that feeling of time ticking slowly in a summer daze, the seconds seeming almost too lazy to drift by the way they normally do. However, accurately representing the feeling of boredom isn't something I'm really looking for in a motion picture, and as much as the lush camerawork takes in the awe and splendor of the beauty of nature, it doesn't quite manage to let you feel the sheer heat of the summer. Characters are splashing around in pools and rivers, so it clearly ain't winter, but the film is too pretty to let them sweat. It all feels sealed off from any real-world experience, which isn't really helped by the fact that Elio is living out his teen angst in a gorgeous palace in one of the most breathtaking natural landscapes in the world, with parents who love and understand him and a strapping broad shoulder to cry on.
I just don't feel inclined to feel sorry for him, I can't put my finger on why...
To be fair, it's not like the purpose of every movie is to be relatable. And to be fairer, there is some excellent work here in two people in the first throes of falling in love can create a bubble around themselves, finding a space for their passion to grow in a beautiful vacuum apart from all the other factors in their life and environment. And while it's certainly not exciting, it's never truly boring. There's always some new vista or terrible dance sequence to keep you occupied.
But now that I've just barely nicked a toehold onto the concept of music, I must speak my piece about the score to this film. It's just plain aggressive. Its constant piano trills feel like it was played by someone with hammers instead of fingers, and the two or three times it dips into an original Sufjan Stevens acoustic noodle, the lurching leaves a pit in your stomach. And by George, are those Sufjan Stevens songs two of the most treacly, infuriatingly juvenile tracks ever provided for an Oscar contender, and I'm including that song from Trolls that got nominated last year. It feels like something I would have written when I was 14, and there's a reason I wasn't being asked to score major motion pictures in junior high.
OK, maybe I'm just complaining extra hard because the rest of the critical sphere is revering this film as a new modern classic and I just don't get it. But allow me one more: There's a scene with a peach here that - as I understand it - is a direct lift and even a sanitization of a scene from the book. But with it, the movie takes a swerve into territory that feels like a cross between John Waters and David Cronenberg, and it fits like a square peg into no hole at all.
Let me tell you, if I had witnessed the events of this film in real life, I would certainly not feel the urge to be kissing either of these people.
OK, because I'm going to give Call Me By Your Name a 7/10, I should probably start saying some nice things about it. Like I said, it's certainly a visual feast. And I would definitely like to commend one Mr. Hammer, who manages to turn a brash American idiot into a delicate, loving dreamboat in a way that actually feels organic and all contained within the multitudes of one single personality. Chalamet and Stuhlbarg have been getting all the attention lately, and they are good, but this is an ensemble piece through and through. Everyone commits to the feelings and tone of the film, and even if those things aren't ones I particularly respond to, that's something worth celebrating.
TL;DR:Call Me By Your Name is a lush, pretty romance that ends up feeling just a teensy bit empty when all is said and done.
Franchise filmmaking is full of some spectacularly bad ideas. But even in a year that featured a live action remake of Beauty and the Beast in which neither lead could really sing and Flatliners - a remake of a boring horror film that didn't do particularly great the first time around - the very worst idea they pulled out of that infinitely deep Mary Poppins bag of branding was Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle.
Consider that awful, awful subtitle. Consider the continuation of the insipid 90's nostalgia pandering that caused Fuller House and Will and Grace to be borne into the world unbidden. Consider the fact that the plot hinges around a video game in a flailing move to update the material for the kids of today. Consider the fact that the spirit of the original was the novelty of seeing wild animals prowl through the streets of modern suburbia and that this film completely ignores that and places them in their natural jungle setting for no good reason.
I was ready to eviscerate this movie. And yet, against all odds, it's kind of... dare I say... good.
Isn't that wild?
The plot of Jumanji is pretty simple. A diverse quartet of kids are stuck in detention cleaning out an old basement, where they discover a dusty cartridge game titled Jumanji. They plug it in, select their characters, and suddenly the game sucks them into a real life, real dangerous jungle world, placing them in the bodies of their much-more-famous video game avatars. In order to escape, they must win the game. They have three lives, and to lose them all means they'll die in the real world. The object of the game is to return a stolen magical jewel to the eye of a giant jaguar statue, thwarting wicked villain Van Pelt (Bobby Cannavale) who used the gem's magic to turn the animals of the once-peaceful jungle into vicious, man-eating monsters.
The four obviously learn about the power of teamwork or friendship or whatever, but the film is mostly a loose series of comic adventure vignettes, propelled by something I haven't seen in a family movie in what feels like ages: actual character-based comedy. More on that miracle in a minute, but I suppose I should introduce you to the characters in brief.
First we have Spencer (Alex Wolff), a dweeby, shy kid who is afraid of everything thanks to his overprotective mother, who suddenly finds himself in the body of Dr. Smolder Bravestone (Dwayne Johnson), a dashing swashbuckler. Then there's Fridge (Ser'Darius Blain), a popular football player who has conscripted once-friend Spencer to do his homework for him, who winds up in the diminutive form of zoologist/weapons valet Mouse Finbar (Kevin Hart) - there is a joke about them initially reading his nickname as "Moose" that they don't even attempt to land. They are joined by nerdy girl and potential Spencer love interest Martha (Morgan Turner), now inhabiting the body of seductive, bad-ass Killer of Men Ruby Roundhouse (Karen Gillan), as well as popular, bubble-headed Instagram princess Bethany (Madison Iseman), now trapped in the middle-aged, portly form of cartographer Professor Shelly Oberon (Jack Black).
One of these things is less famous than the other.
OK, back to my point. The character comedy here is remarkable just for existing, but it's also a pretty delicate, layered approach that boggles the mind. The no fewer than four people who contributed to the script must have had a hell of a mind meld going on, because this screenplay is tight.
To start off, the plot makes a big deal out of the strengths and weaknesses of each character in the game, as literally detailed by the game (Ruby Roundhouse's weakness is "venom", whereas Mouse Finbar's is "cake," and wouldn't you know it but those jokes around Kevin Hart still just refuse to work). But in addition to that, it weaves in the strengths and weaknesses of the teens as seen pre-transformation, and their personality traits interlock and dovetail from those of their avatars in a way that's a pure delight to watch.
These are unusually well-crafted characters, but they'd be nothing without the performers attached to each (well, most) of them. Dwayne Johnson and Karen Gillan seem like they could have been mo-capped by Alex Wolff and Morgan Turner for how much they physically inhabit the posture and movements of dweeby teens who don't know what to do with their bodies. It's an astoundingly anti-movie star set of performances that showcase their pure, unadulterated commitment to the roles. And then there's Jack Black, who steals the show so effortlessly that Danny Ocean is putting him on his Rolodex. I so wasn't ready to like Jack Black again, but he throws himself completely into playing the role of a teenage girl, and while the trailers made it seem like it would just be a grotesque caricature, he actually delivers a nonstop barrage of genuinely funny lines that push the envelope of gender representation in blockbuster filmmaking and dear God, I can't believe I'm writing a sentence like this in a review of Jumanji, for crying out loud.
I know, I'm just as surprised as you.
The only liability, as you may have noticed from my oh-so subtle hinting, is Kevin Hart. Not only is he given the film's worst material to trudge through, he in no way attempts anything other than his "shriek every line" schtick. He never manages to channel his teenage counterpart in any meaningful way, to the point that when you see Fridge again you have completely forgotten who he is, whereas you still feel like you've spent time with all the other characters even though they've been offscreen for over an hour. I'm not particularly a fan of Hart in anything, but never has he been so incompatible with an ensemble.
Luckily Mouse is used sparingly, so he doesn't drag the movie down too much. He's just a reminder that, for as much as Jumanji is surprisingly fun and engaging, it's still a generic family adventure movie. Maybe it's a tad edgier in the PG-13 department than you might expect, but it's no more emotionally complex or stylistically daring than, say, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales.
However, that doesn't stop it from being lighthearted popcorn movie fun. It's a shame that the movie's low stakes prevent Bobby Cannavale from really getting to dig his teeth into his villainous character (which he was clearly relishing), but other than that it's a rollicking, fizzy thrill ride from start to finish. I take back all my grumblings from every time this trailer came on in December.
TL;DR: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is far better than it has any right to be, with a solid ensemble bringing a set of unique characters to life.
Cast: Sally Hawkins, Octavia Spencer, Michael Shannon
Run Time: 2 hours 3 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
Guillermo del Toro is one of the few visionary directors we have on hand today, but he’s also one of the most inconsistent. I tend to abide by the rule of thumb that his Spanish-language work is stronger than his English films (Pan’s Labyrinth and The Devil’s Backbone are masterpieces, whereas Crimson Peak or Pacific Rim are pretty but a bit empty-headed), but I was greatly intrigued by The Shape of Water, his quasi-remake of The Creature from the Black Lagoon. I must say that rule of thumb still applies, but it’s certainly an interesting beast that I’m excited to discuss.
And if there’s one thing del Toro knows a lot about, it’s interesting beasts.
So, the plot. Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) is a mute cleaning woman who works at an aerospace institute in a fairy tale vision of 1960’s Baltimore. When the scientists at work bring in their newest asset – an amphibious sea creature from South America (Doug Jones, who is not the Alabama senator, though I’m sure he wishes he had that on his CV instead of The Bye Bye Man) that they’re hoping will help them make major steps in the space race once they figure out how its breathing apparatus works – she begins to teach it sign language and they become fast friends… and maybe more.
When the Evil Scientist Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon) decides to vivisect the creature, Elisa must face the loss of this new relationship with a creature that makes her feel less alien and alone in this world of people who look down on her, either for her lack of speech or the fact that she’s a woman. She is supported by her coworker Zelda (Octavia Spencer) and her aging painter neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins), but she might just have to take action.
And I mean “action” in every sense of the word.
I don’t know what it is about this Oscar season. Normally I’m not a huge fan of big awards contenders in general so it shouldn't be surprising that I'm not feeling into it, but this slate of flicks seems tailor-made for my tastes. A non-AIDS/death related gay romance? A romance starring the Gill Man? A film bringing to life the story of The Room?! Don’t mind if I do! And yet I’m liking these films even less than normal. OK, I don’t think I’ll ever dislike anything as much as The Revenant or Birdman, but this year I’m kind of longing for a Her, or a Brooklyn, or even a The Descendants. Just something that doesn’t promise high genre heights yet still manages to evoke something quiet and engrossing. Meanwhile I’m stuck with empty promises of things I’ll love that end up delivering something messy and flawed, ultimately redeemable but impossible to fall head over heels in love with.
I at least enjoyed The Shape of Water more thoroughly than Call Me By Your Name, because del Toro is a consummate entertainer even when he’s operating in a lower gear. But this film fails so hard at delivering most of what it promises that when it hits one of its many truly great scenes, it just doesn’t have the punch you wish it did.
I think my biggest issue is that The Shape of Water is just a little bit – I hate to say it – twee. The easiest comparison that comes to mind is Amélie, another film that spins a grand fairy tale fantasy out of regular life. Del Toro has proven himself adept at that kind of thing before, but Pan’s Labyrinth is no Jean-Pierre Jeunet romp. The particular register he’s working in feels utterly alien, and the central romance suffers because of it.
Fairy tales have the ability to smooth the edges off the snags and quibbles of real life love (Prince Charming hardly ever knows the Princess for more than a week before they’re hitched), but del Toro’s instincts toward blending the epic fantasy with gritty, violent reality hobble his ability to do that. And despite the stellar performances of both Hawkins (who whips up a dazzling internal life for a character who doesn’t speak a word) and Jones (whose posture is so utterly alien that you don’t for a second remember he’s a man in a suit), the script underserves them. Their romance is too rushed-through to evoke the huge swell of emotion the movie clearly wants you to feel toward the midpoint, and the characters are too whimsical to really take the stakes seriously, even when they are raised through the roof.
The amount of time it takes you to look at this caption is about the time the script devotes to their chemistry before tossing them into another movie entirely for about forty minutes.
But let's not pretend that there is not some terrific material at work in The Shape of Water, it just tends to be in the stuff circulating around the central relationship. The lead actors might be great, but their supporting players are even better. Well, I mean Octavia Spencer is doing her Octavia Spencer thing, and that's just dandy, but Richard Jenkins and Michael Shannon are pure magic.
Michael Shannon has made a habit of getting accolades for movies I don't really care to see, but he has more than won me over to his side here. The metaphor about his character (a white man with a hilariously perfect 50's suburban family) being the true monster here isn't particularly subtle, but boy does he sell it by being f**king scary. Every second he's onscreen pulses with nerve-shattering tension, and he has the audience wrapped around his little finger within two frames.
And then there's poor Richard Jenkins, who digs deep to unearth some raw loneliness in character as a gay man who has allowed himself to grow old hiding in the shadows and regrets letting his life and potential love pass him by. His character is probably the funniest, warmest presence in the film, but every three scenes or so he gets it into his head to rip out your heart with his bare hands and play the strings like a maestro of human misery.
The Shape of Water has a lot to say about alienation and loneliness, and those themes live and breathe in the performances even when they aren't present on the page. This is probably the best ensemble of the year, and the fact that they get to act out a story this weird on sets this sumptuous in their grotty glory, with cinematography this sleek and stunning is a small miracle. It doesn't come together quite enough for me to give it a wholehearted recommendation, but god damn can it draw some real beauty from its murky depths.
TL;DR: The Shape of Water is a gorgeous, well-acted film with clumsy script execution.
Well, we made it through another year, and doesn't it just seem more and more unusual whenever that happens? Regardless, you know what that means: It's time for my exhaustive annual breakdown of the best and worst in movies, music, and TV!
Since I decided this year to not review current movies (that lasted about 11 months, because the world can't keep me down), this might be the first time you hear my opinions on some of these flicks, and I'm a little excited about that. Who knows where my lists will lead? Well you do now, because here they are!
Also, this year I'm aiming to be a little more positive, so I've restructured my lists a little bit. I'm still going to mention what I think are some of the worst movies, etc. of the year, but I urge you to remember that this is just my opinion. Different movies appeal to all of us, and these ones didn't strike me. That doesn't mean they're worthless, just that you should steer clear of them if you tend to share my opinions on movies.
Also, I've cut out my "Worst Actor/Actress" categories. While I feel like it's totally fine to diss a movie, an ad hominem attack just feels mean, especially considering how much editing and directing can affect the perception of a performance.
Also, considering the charged environment that Hollywood is currently dealing with in terms of the sexual harassment and abuse of women, I've decided to tip the scales of my "Pretty People" segment toward men only. This world doesn't need more objectification of women in the industry, and I've never been particularly good at it, anyway. Dudes are fair game though, so buckle in.
One more thing to remember: I only talk about movies I've seen this year. I've seen a lot, certainly more than the average (read: sane) human being, but if your favorite isn't on here, I probably just haven't seen it. Or you have terrible taste.
I hope you enjoy my list, and please let me know if any of your favorites do or don't match up with mine in the comments below!
FILM
The Ten Best Films of 2017 #10 Spider-Man: Homecoming
Can I justify the fact that this is the third iteration of Spider-Man in a century that's not yet 17 years deep? Hell no. But the integration of Spider-Man into the Marvel Cinematic Universe went off with hardly a hitch (other than the fact that they had to lean too hard on Jon Favreau as their biggest link), breathing new life into the character by actually having him be a believable high school student and making normal teenage routines and fears a major part of the fabric of the narrative and its comedy. #9 The Boss Baby
Look, I'm just as surprised as you that this is on here. I was all set to hate what looked like the dumbest entry in this year's family movie canon (that title probably ended up passing on to The Emoji Movie), and even though I'll never like the mystifying, generation-defying joke "cookies are for closers," - seriously, who is that joke for? - my heart grew three sizes when I realized that the bizarre conceit is a metaphor for an imaginative older brother feeling like his parents' attention is being domineered by a new baby brother. It's a visually kinetic experience that brings one young boy's creativity to life in a variety of eye-popping landscapes that just shouldn't be as good as they are. #8Coco
Never forget that The Book of Life came out years ago and had the exact same concept (in fact, it was my #7 of 2014, take that), but there is room in my heart for two animated films based on the incredible designs that come from Mexico's Dia de Los Muertos holiday. Coco is not gold standard Pixar, but if you approach it as what it secretly is (a tried and true Disney animated musical), it's a solid emotional ride that celebrates a culture that doesn't get a fair shake in Hollywood with specificity and beauty. And the songs really are very good.
#7 Cult of Chucky
Don Mancini, who wrote every Child's Play movie and directed the most recent three entries, has really come into his own as a director. He has always shepherded this franchise into unique and fascinating directions, and Cult of Chucky is no exception. It's perhaps ten minutes too long and the place this entry leaves off doesn't make me too excited for the next sequel, but as a part 7 in an 80's slasher franchise, this is an unparalleled success. The glorious overdesign of the sets hearkens back to classic Universal horror, the humor is as scalpel sharp as ever, and a handful of the kills are some of the most gleefully gross things you'll see this year. #6Get Out
I think the press surrounding Jordan Peele's directorial feature Get Out got a wee bit carried away proclaiming it as the horror movie of the decade or whatever, but there's no denying that it's an incredibly strong entry in the modern genre canon. Blumhouse has really been knocking it out of the park with original horror this year, but Get Out was a risk with a huge reward, extrapolating a chilling tale out of the racial microaggressions that come from the interactions between an upper class white family and their daughter's black boyfriend. The ending might get a little silly, but it's a satisfying and cathartic allegory for the biggest social problems in modern America. #5 The Big Sick
It's probably no accident that two of the best films of the year center around the struggles of an interracial couple, but The Big Sick is the polar opposite of Get Out. It's shaggy like all Apatowian comedies, but it's as warm and charmingly funny as it's possible to be in a film about a family and an ex-boyfriend dealing with the fallout of a potentially fatal coma. Holly Hunter and Ray Romano are stellar here, juggling a dozen emotions simultaneously and providing the comedy a powerful beating heart. I also respect this film for having the balls to admit that stand-up comedy isn't always great. The comics featured here aren't romanticized as heroes, they're just struggling artists with bad sets and big dreams, and that's more than a little refreshing. #4 Happy Death Day
It's been a hell of a long time since there's been a slasher worth talking about in theaters. And Happy Death Day had every opportunity not to break that trend, being a PG-13 horror flick from the teen wing of Blumhouse. But the slasher movie Groundhog Day conceit is a compelling one, and it dodges a lot of the pitfalls of not being particularly gory by the very nature of its construction. I can't say I've ever seen a movie where a single character is both the Final Girl and the body count, but it's a fun comic riff on the genre that takes its low stakes premise and builds a frothy teen romp out of it. #3Lady Bird
I was all ready to dismiss Lady Bird as a bland mumblecore flick, but it's so much more than that. It's an infinitely relatable, loosely plotted high school coming-of-age story that explores great heights both comedically and dramatically with some spectacularly well-observed characters and a keen sense of its own setting. It's low key, but it's marvelous. #2 Logan
I've never been a huge fan of Wolverine. Obviously he's the breakout star of the X-Men films, but his solo outings and numerous late-period cameos kind of left me cold. It turns out all you had to do was dump him into a sci-fi dystopia, tart up his character with some Western archetypes, and run him through a superpowered road trip movie. Logan is a triumph of franchise moviemaking, completely changing the context of the character without taking anything away from the myth the other movies have built around him, using the relationship he's built with audiences for over a decade to deliver an emotional, harrowing gut punch of a not-so-super superhero movie. #1 Baby Driver
Once again, my favorite movie of the year is a musical, but Baby Driver completely warps what that term even means. Music is woven into the very fabric of the movie, plot, and characters, but rather than bursting into song every five minutes, the editing and motion react to a never-ending fabric of choice cuts from Edgar Wright's deliciously deep retro playlist. It's an exhilarating action movie, a beautiful sonic tapestry, and an hilarious, unforgettable entry in the genre movie canon that uses Wright's favorite tropes without so obviously foregrounding them like his other films, which have all been one kind of genre pastiche or other. The Five Worst Films of 2017 #5 The Circle
There's nothing worse than wasted potential. The Circle was shaping up to be a satisfying techno-thriller, but then they had to get tangled up in subtext they didn't understand, be the first movie of the year to totally waste John Boyega, and give a major role to Boyhood's Ellar Coltrane, who proves that being friends with Richard Linklater doesn't necessarily preclude the need for acting classes. #4 The Book of Henry
This really is every bit the spectacular failure the rumors implied it to be. It wasn't quite as fun-bad as I was hoping, but you really can't beat "ultra-smart genius child convinces idiot Naomi Watts to assassinate a neighbor" for Worst Of list eligibility. #3 The Bye Bye Man
2017 has been a great year for the horror genre (It, Get Out, Split, Happy Death Day, and Annabelle: Creation all hit number one at the box office), but you wouldn't know it two weekends in. Genre audiences had already suffered through Underworld: Blood Wars, and then The Bye Bye Man swooped in like a sledgehammer to the face. There are some unambiguously hilarious moments on display here (like the scenes where the Bye Bye Man causes a dude to have a hallucination of Carrie-Anne Moss winking at him, or where Faye Dunaway straight-up hands the lead a gun and casually tells him to murder his friends), but everything else fails on a spectacular level. The titular villain has both a name too silly to take seriously and a surplus of calling cards that are inconsistent and nonsensical, including a ghost dog, a magic coin, a nightstand, and a ghost train (?). A more thorough failure has not been seen in theaters this decade. #2 The Great Wall
My qualms with this have nothing to do with the "white savior" complex that people had problems with earlier this year. This movie was made by the Chinese, who chose to hire certain white actors to sell in America (a refreshing twist on the usual formula), and Matt Damon's character isn't really that great at saving the world. No, my qualms have to do with the soul-suckingly crappy CGI monsters and the unending, choppily edited boredom of the dialogue scenes in between their appearances. The costumes are beautiful, and the Eisensteinian focus on groups of people rather than specific protagonists is an interesting technique in the modern era, but God, sitting through this was just punishing. #1 47 Meters Down
If you're looking to be bored at the movies, look no further. Mandy Moore and sharks seemed like the recipe for a perfect aquatic horror gem, but this film was so dull we literally skipped a half hour in the middle and not one thing changed. This film's pedigree should have given away some of its flaws (it was actually released direct-to-DVD under a different title, then pulled and repackaged after the success of The Shallows), but the color scheme (while probably accurate) is devastatingly ugly and gloomy, with grating neon colors scraping up against the black sludge that smothers the rest of the frame, made even more annoying because there's literally nothing else to look at. Best Worst Movie: Fifty Shades Darker
Fifty Shades Darker gave me everything that Fifty Shades of Grey promised and failed to deliver. A frothy, trashy delight that's actually a little bit kinky (on the sliding scale of big budget Hollywood fare), Darker is a bubbling mash of inexplicable plot pivots that come out of nowhere, surprisingly dark backstories that creep in from all corners, and that aggressive lack of chemistry that marks the central romance. Also, Dakota Johnson is still unreasonably terrific, giving it that little bit of quality that takes the edge off the effervescent badness.
Most Underrated: Ingrid Goes West
Ingrid Goes West hardly made a blip on anybody's radar, but this twisted, darkly comic tale of how social media obfuscates one's identity features a powerhouse performance from Aubrey Plaza, turning her deadpan character into a heartbreaking psychological profile for the ages.
Most Overrated: The Disaster Artist
Like, it's funny. But a Golden Globe nomination? Oscar buzz? People are seeing something that isn't there in this boilerplate, sub-Apatow comedy. James Franco's Wiseau impression is excellent, but there's not really much to offer beyond that. Biggest Surprise: Jane Levy in Monster Trucks
I know Jane Levy from appearing in horror flicks like the remake of Evil Dead and Don't Breathe, so it was very surprising to see her playing a high school student in this year's runner-up bad-good gem Monster Trucks. It's even more surprising that her character was maybe the funniest of the year: a nerdy girl who is taken on a grand adventure who tries to repress how much she gets off on the crimes she's committing. It's an unexpected turn, to be sure, and she's incredibly hilarious in the role.
Biggest Disappointment: Split
I did likeSplit, but I didn't love it, and the general consensus of the world at large seemed to be that it was a movie worthy of emphatic love. I'm glad it made Blumhouse money, but I'm also glad that Get Out had a strong showing so they don't just churn out a bunch of movies modeled after the lumpy pacing, non-closure, and ridiculous twist of Split. Best 2016 Film I Missed: Other People
I think a lot of the best comedies are also a little bit sad, and Other People is a lot bit sad. The story of a deadbeat son caring for his mother while she struggles with cancer, it's a sharp, probing look at the quiet humor of the tragedy of the human condition. Molly Shannon gives a terrific, show-stopping performance, and the movie balances its dueling tones so well that the comedy doesn't feel ghoulish and the tragedy doesn't feel treacly. It's perfectly understated, hilarious, and devastating. Worst 2016 Film I Missed: Why Him?
Zoey Deutch deserves so much better. Megan Mulally deserves so much better. James Franco thinks he deserves so much better. And I don't blame Bryan Cranston for anything here, but he's certainly switched back into sitcom mode, and his mugging doesn't really redeem any of the flailing script's dysfunctionality. Best Dramatic Actor: Lakeith Stanfield (Get Out, Death Note)
Lakeith Stanfield is a national treasure. He only has a small role in Get Out, but along with his equally excellent cohort Betty Gabriel, he is integral to maintaining the off-kilter atmosphere of the film. And he's far and away the best thing in Death Note, bringing a weird manic energy to his character that didn't work for everyone, but I found incredibly compelling. Keep giving this guy work, Hollywood! Best Comedic Actor: Taika Waititi (Thor: Ragnarok)
The best parts of Thor: Ragnarok were the moments it slowed down for a little bit of director Taika Waititi's signature Kiwi comedy (probably because those were the moments you could forget you were watching a Thor movie), and that comedy was dominated by the rock monster Korg, who was played by - of all people - Waititi himself. Based on the Maori bouncers he's met, Korg has the gentlest, quietest voice emanating from his gruff exterior, but that's just the tip of the comedy iceberg. Everything out of this character's mouth is a piece of mad genius, expertly delivered by one of the great modern comic filmmakers, who just can't seem to do anything wrong right now. Best Dramatic Actress: Salma Hayek (Beatriz at Dinner)
I'm not gonna go around calling this performance "brave," because normal middle-aged women look like normal middle-aged women every day. It's not like you need a suit of armor and a sword to do that. But balancing the tone of this pitch black comedy about a Mexican faith healer who finds herself plunged into a white one-percenter dinner party and forcing them to interact face to face with the culture they're exploiting is a delicate task. The movie doesn't quite accomplish it, but everything good about it is encapsulating in Hayek's excellent performance, which is like Amélie as translated through forty years of hardship and heartbreak. Best Comedic Actress: Christine Baranski (A Bad Moms Christmas)
A Bad Moms Christmas was a movie that should never have existed, and yet I'm kind of glad it happened. In between all the exhausting boilerplate plotting, there are some sparkling jokes that finally made good use of its vastly overqualified cast. Newcomer Justin Hartley also adds a lot (partially because none of his scenes have anything to do with the annoying sitcom Christmas special drama), but nothing could ever compare to Baranski, who swoops in on this movie like Gordon Ramsey dead set on resuscitating a franchise on the fast track to Hell.
Best Breakout: Tiffany Haddish (Girls Trip)
Obviously Tiffany Haddishhas been in the game for quite some time. But such is the way of the diversity-anemic Hollywood model that she didn't hit the big time until the genuinely delightful summer comedy Girls Trip. That movie was mostly a boilerplate modern debauchery comedy, but Haddish is something special here, dominating every scene she's in, and provoking huge laughs with one of the most vulgar, lewd, hilarious acts ever committed to film in a hotel kitchen. She commits one hundred percent to everything this one-note character does, and her energy and dedication allow her to empower the film to go further instead of dragging it down with repetitive antics. Best Child Actress: Dafne Keen (Logan)
And now for the annual segment of "holy crap, I didn't know a child could do that!" And I'm not talking about the bloody violence or the stunts. Dafne Keen embodies this pure animal id of a child while still remaining completely sympathetic, plays off Hugh Jackman like she was born to do it, and all while either not speaking a word or spouting a bilingual waterfall of Spanish and English at rapid speed. This girl is a PRO and I hope we get to see her in more things soon. Best Child Actor: Ansel Elgort (Baby Driver)
All joking aside, I do think this performance elevates Ansel Elgort from the teen weepie elites to actual bona fide actor. I was nervous about an Edgar Wright film being anchored by a mostly untested star like this, but he rose to the occasion with aplomb. Best Villain: Julianne Moore as Poppy (Kingsman: The Golden Circle)
A spy movie villain that's essentially just a parody of every 50's housewife role Julianne Moore has been saddled with? Yes, please! Best Hero: Lego Batman
Although the movie was ugly and overstuffed as all hell, aesthetics can't ruin comedy, and this is the best Batman in decades. Best Cameo: Chris Meloni (Snatched)
Chris Meloni is probably the reason I finished Snatched, because boy howdy was I not feeling compelled to suffer through one more minute. Then suddenly in the late second act, in comes any cameo-friendly comedy movie's saving grace. Meloni is always hilarious, but this character (an Indiana Jones-esque figure who might not be as capable as he seems) is especially compelling, an oasis of comedy in a movie that really had every opportunity to be better. Worst Cameo: Elton John (Kingsman: The Golden Circle)
Elton John and his wooden acting (let's not blame him for this, the man never claimed to be a thespian) would have been excruciating in a small dose, but he might as well be third billed for all the totally unnecessary screentime he gets here. I think he's literally onscreen more than Channing Tatum, who plays a major role in the film. Or maybe it would have been easier to stomach if they didn't just have him drop F-bombs as if we'd be amused by the vulgarity, rapping granny style.
Best Fight: Atomic Blonde
For being one of the only movie fight scenes to depict just how exhausting fighting actually is, having its participants drunkenly flail at one another while barely being able to stand up straight, Atomic Blonde is damn incredible. It's a flawless injection of realism and humor into an over-the-top action movie, and it's powerfully effective. If only the plot made a lick of sense.
Best Kiss: Two Michael Fassbenders (Alien: Covenant)
I'm not even the most hardcore Michael Fassbender fan, but come on. This scene was something I never thought I'd see in a movie. Thank heavens for CGI, because this scene is the exact reason cinema was created. Best CGI Creation: Superman's Upper Lip (Justice League)
I don't know if I would have even noticed that they CGI-ed out Henry Cavill's Mission Impossible mustache during reshoots for Justice League, but knowing what I did, this beautiful disaster kept me occupied during the entirety of that boring, overserious film. Instead of having to think about the plot, I was occupied with thoughts ranging from "Is that his real lip?" and "That has to be a reshoot," to "Dear God, what hast thou wrought?" Worst CGI Creation: Ghost Dog (The Bye Bye Man)
Just look at that monstrosity. Why not just cut these scenes? The Bye Bye Man has too much going on, anyway. Best Monster: The Scarecrow (Annabelle: Creation)
Speaking of evil beings that manifest in too many ways, Annabelle: Creation was a little all-over-the-place with its scares (it's about a haunted doll, but I think she's onscreen less than twenty percent of the movie). But how could you complain when one of those manifestations is this creepy-ass scarecrow, who provides most of the best sequences in the film? Worst Monster: The Beast (Beauty and the Beast)
I'm supposed to fall in love with this? Biggest Laugh: The Hero Shot (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)
The obligatory Marvel hero group shot is particularly majestic in Guardians, but [SPOILERS] it's immediately undercut by Mantis being hit with a massive boulder, an unexpected development that cracked me up both times I saw this movie. Biggest Cry: Literally Anything Richard Jenkins Does in The Shape of Water
I found the central love story of The Shape of Water to be a little underwhelming, but Richard Jenkins is what ties the whole thing together. His side story of being an aging gay man in the 60's is a beautiful portrait of alienation and loneliness, and he commits so deeply to the role that I'm gonna tear up just thinking about it. Biggest Scream: The Storm Drain (It)
Maybe I just wasn't scared by most movies this year, because I can't say this scene gave me nightmares or anything. But this scene - while never eclipsing Tim Curry's iconic performance in the original TV movie - proves the film's worth as its own feature and goes the extra mile with some gore and child death that is truly shocking. Best Title: Coco
At first glance, the title of the film doesn't seem like anything special, but the beauty of it is that it takes on a whole new meaning once you finish the film. That's the best kind of title, one that actually makes you think about how it interacts with the theme of the film itself and turns you into an active participant in the story. Worst Title: Baby Driver
Don't get me wrong, I loved the movie. But if I have to sit through one more conversation with people who think I'm talking about some sort of Boss Baby spin-off, I will hit the gas pedal and drive away from them until I run out of gas. I get that it's a Simon and Garfunkel reference, but not everybody has the same Mariana Trench depth of musical knowledge as you, Edgar Wright. You gotta work with us plebs, here. Best Line: [STAR WARS SPOILERS, SORTA] "Hi, I'm Poe." - Poe Dameron (Star Wars: The Last Jedi)
At the end of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Oscar Isaac's Poe Dameron introduces himself to Daisy Ridley's Rey, revealing the fact that they've never actually met during the preceding 276 minutes of Star Wars they've been in together. It's a reveal on par with the moment in Season 4 of Arrested Development when you realize that George Michael has never actually been onscreen with Liza Minnelli's Lucille Austero before. Worst Line: "Hold up, you dig on multiverses?" - Ryan Hui (Wish Upon)
For being the single lamest line of dialogue in a film that was wall to wall lame teen dialogue. Best Poster: A Cure for Wellness
One thing a poster needs to do is capture a bit of the movie's essence, and this one does it perfectly: A Cure for Wellness is a film where aesthetics trump all, providing exquisitely beautiful and creepy imagery at the expense of things like narrative momentum or logic or a reasonable run time. Worst Poster: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle
If you had never seen Jumani and only had this poster to judge it from, you might think it's a dark psychological thriller in which one woman must face the hardship that comes with having skin made out of plastic. Best Poster For a Bad Movie: Book of Henry
I'm not even going to pretend it was difficult to make this poster, because all they did was rip off Drew Struzan's style, but damn if that doesn't work every time. Worst Poster For a Good Movie: The Big Sick
Is this a 90's horror movie? Why is the entire cast just lined up chockablock in front of a boring background? They're clearly not even posing together, it's just a series of Photoshop cutouts. Also, where the hell are they standing where the skyline is behind them? Are they in one of those action movie shipyards where drug deals always happen? This poster is a disaster and I hate it, probably disproportionately because the movie was in fact extremely lovely. Best Song From a Musical: "The Other Side" The Greatest Showman
The best thing The Greatest Showman had to offer was its showstopping choreography, but interestingly the best single example of this is the smallest setpiece they have on offer. For the first minute and a half or so of this number, Hugh Jackman is just sitting at a barstool, spinning a spectacle out of just his hands, the bar around him, and his voice. It's a beautiful evocation of the theme the plot failed to flesh out: the way that one man can build a captivating show from nothing. Worst Song From a Musical: "Evermore" Beauty and the Beast
There's a reason this song isn't in the original Beauty and the Beast. It's a tedious, irritating song that deflates the pacing like tire spikes thrown on the road. Also I have no desire to spend time alone with Dan Stevens' digitally manipulated, already not great singing voice. Next time, stick to the Howard and Ashman original script, thank you very much. Top Five Movie Discoveries #5 Ghost Writer (2007)
If a Saw movie had a baby with High Fidelity and that baby wrote an off-Broadway play, you'd only be halfway to the bonkers hilarity that is Alan Cumming's directorial debut. Ghost Writer is an experience not to be forgotten, and I'm worried I may be the only person in the world who has seen it, let alone liked it. #4 Tales from the Crypt: Demon Knight
90's horror gets maligned by a lot of fans, but who could possibly dump on the decade with a straight face when it delivered this delightful, campy, gleefully gory gem from the vaults of the world's favorite punmeister? #3 Bound (1996)
The Wachowskis made their debut with this effortlessly queer crime drama, and boy is it refreshing to see them apply themselves to something that isn't high concept sci-fi. The film sizzles with non-exploitative sexuality, Jennifer Tilly is capital-A Amazing, the central heist is tense as a coiled spring, and the directorial aesthetic is a fizzy delight. One for the ages, certainly. #2 Cabaret (1972)
Cabaret is a period drama musical that showcases Liza Minnelli's insurmountable talents with a bowler hat, but it's also an outright horror film, depicting how the glitz, glamour, and sexual freedom of Berlin's cabaret scene allowed people to ignore the rise of Nazism in Germany. The movie creates juxtapositions between fabulous musical numbers and extreme violence in a way that's both satisfying for the musical lover and f**king chilling. #1 What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
I guess I caught up with my queer filmmaking this year, and the ne plus ultra of that vein is the camp classic horror flick What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? Although it's maybe a smidge too long, this movie is a fascinating, tense, one-house thriller that explores the fraught emotional relationship between two aged sisters in a terrifying, delightfully over-the-top manner that feels dangerous and unhinged thanks to Bette Davis' total commitment to an ugly, batty performance. Top Six Pretty Guys
#5 Idris Elba (The Mountain Between Us, The Dark Tower, Thor: Ragnarok)
C'mon. It really doesn't get any better than this. The only reason he's so low on the list is because I haven't actually seen any of the movies he's been in this year besides Thor, and I'm pretty sure he wears tragically bulky, body-obscuring coats in all three of them. #4 Lucien Laviscount (The Bye Bye Man)
Isn't it nice when the gratuitous nudity in a horror movie is provided by a man? It's the one and only case where The Bye Bye Man has something actually positive to offer to the world. #3 Baywatch
I don't know how the script got flipped so thoroughly when Baywatch was translated from TV to film, but the boob-jiggling series for red-blooded TV audiences is maybe the gayest thing that hit theaters this year. Marvel has really been making obligatory male objectification a common trope, and this film is the apex of that trend. I hope we keep going from here. #2 Chris Hemsworth (Thor: Ragnarok)
Finally, Thor gets the haircut he deserves. #1 Henry Cavill (Justice League)
I don't know whose idea it was to have him fight shirtless and in slow motion for a full ten minutes, but they were a genius and I forgive DC of all its flaws. Bring on the extended universe! Bonus: Geoffrey Stults (Unforgettable)
You know how some people are character actors? I think this is a character crush. I'm not looking for anyone to agree with me, but of all the actors who played "average" this year (keep in mind that movie star "average" is a civilian "9"), Geoff really stood out to me and I have no idea why. Maybe it's just him being in the orbit of Rosario Dawson, who was unconscionably terrific in this trashy bad mom thriller.
