And…
Some of the films below might actually be more 2020,
but I was only aware of them last year, so indulge me as I am sure there is
some overlap, especially with the NetFlix/Prime titles. They’re kinda current anyhow.
What really struck me about Thomas Vinterberg’s excellent
‘Another Round’ is how it reserved judgement and showed alcohol being
an enabler of confidence. This, just as much as apparently essential for a good
time, was shown to be intrinsic to its addictive qualities. A group of teacher
friends decide to become alcoholics by using the pretence of an experiment
about alcohol consumption. This criticism of Danish drinking culture was like a
needle slowly being pushed in. That it ended on a note of exuberance seemed to
have left some thinking it was a feel-good conclusion, but that surely neglects
all the subtleties planted throughout. After all, drinking is associated with
good times and I didn’t find anything conclusive come the deceptive jubilation
of the ending.
Emma Seligman’s ‘Shiva Baby’ had a
crackling script and really tapped into that most stressful context: the
official social gathering. Conflicts of the demands of tradition and generation
rule: young people playing parts to get through the scrutiny of the older
generation. A touch of farce underpins it all, as does the comedy of embarrassment,
but its humour is wry and sly, its cultural observation empathetic. Best and
contrarian of all, it’s scored like a horror film by Ariel Marx, playing up the
anxieties of these occasions.
Jane Campion’s ‘The Power of the Dog’ was a slow burner, pretty to look at and full of set pieces that showed bullying without resorting to typical displays of violence. How it destroys confidence and starts resentment festering. Full of mind-games, innuendo, repression, and things left unspoken. Perhaps Johhny Greenwood’s often discordant score should have been a clue to the film’s insidiousness and long game. Armond White’s conclusion of the film and Jane Campion’s of homophobia is surely wrongheaded in that it neglects character agency and that their behaviour is borne from the environmental misogyny and repression. It also features two excellent performances by Benedict Cumberbatch and Kodi Smit-McPhee.
J Blakeson’s ‘I Care a Lot’ was a bone
fide provocation with the sheer amorality and immorality of its characters. But
therein was a critic/condemnation not only of the system the capitalist
characters exploit, but of how happy audiences are with the conmen struts in
cinema. And Rosamund Pike plays her villainess with shallow charm and relish
that asks, really, why would you root for her machinations? It was also to
include the complicity and enablement in its target range.
Kitty Green’s excellent ‘The Assistant’ was another film with slow-burn and insidious designs. It told of just another workday of the assistant to a powerful executive, but was really a portrayal of the daily enablement and complicity in bullying, exploitation and abuse – and being overworked was the least of it. It was the muffled scream to ‘Promising Young Woman’s yell, although its commitment to its just-another-day agenda surely bored some. But that’s the point: its all-pervasive and the normalising of maltreatment.
Michael Sarnoski’s ‘Pig’ also contained an admonishment of the soul-destroying nature of work. The best scene, for me, was when Nicolas Cage quietly but thoroughly reminded a former employee of the dreams and ambition he had once had, the kind ground out of you. Mostly, it came as a great character piece and subversion of the typical revenge pic.
Xiaoshuai Wang’s ‘So Long, My Son’ was
also a slow burn, focusing on the effects of China’s “One Child” policy and the
lifelong effect of a loss of a child. But I wasn’t quite prepared for the
realisation that over its three-hour runtime it had thoroughly sunk its claws
into me, and that it achieved such an emotional effect on me that I found myself
aggressively wishing for a happy ending. Which never happens (I go with the flow
to see what’s to be said). It has a naturally cluttered look, increasingly
affecting performances, a little tricky with its temporal play, but ultimately
a very moving and reflective film.
Adam Mackay’s ‘Don’t Look Up’ was
perhaps too cartoony as a satire to be properly upsetting or chilling, and it
was preaching to the choir, but it still contained enough to upset snowflake Right-wingers.
And anyway, accusing a political portrayal as “too cartoony” seems redundant in
an era still suffering from Trumpism. Ultimately, it posits that current
American MSM perniciousness and shallowness will be an extinction event. It
would make an interesting double-bill with ‘The Pizzagate Masacare’.
In fact, although it came over as just another action
flick, Ric Roman Waugh’s ‘Greenland’ probably proved a more
upsetting end-of-the-world drama. Certainly, the separation of parents from
kids was easily more emotionally worrying – it is the scene where they’re
trying to get on the plane that stayed with me most. It proved surprisingly
enjoyable and well-executed for your typical family-in-peril apocalypse.
____________
Of which Rose Glass’ ‘Saint Maud’ was a
favourite. Another drama of female mental instability with great performances
by Morfydd Clark and Jennifer Ehle. Dull English coastal towns played up for
their dilapidated charm, with eeriness and tension on display. We know Maud’s
trajectory will not be a good one, what with religious delusion taking hold in
an attempt to control trauma, but how long it will take is another matter. And leading
to an unforgettable and harrowing finale.
The underground favourite was Jonathan Cuartas’ ‘My
Heart Can’t Beat Unless You Tell It To’. One of those films that puts
vampire rules in downbeat, grubby neo-realist context. This time, the focus is
on family dynamics and as the older siblings of a young, naive blood drinker
turn serial killers to feed him. It’s emphasis is more on the gloom of sadness
and loneliness than horror flourishes. With the title song providing all the
lush emotional release the characters don't have, its dour tone, smart
execution, editing, the excellent performances and enough twists make for a
compelling domestic horror.
Pascual Sisto’s ‘John and the Hole’ was also interested in the horror of family dynamic, but in a way reminiscent of Yorgos Lanthimos. That meant that the family insisting on returning to normal was the open-ended chill. Unsettling drama (one of the key questions is how "horror" this will get) that is ultimately about the performance of family dynamics as 13-year-old John - a compelling and near-inscrutable creepy-sweet performance by Charlie Shotwell - tries to play out one of his offbeat questions: what would it be like if the family weren't around? Perhaps too ambiguous for its own good in the end, but fascinating and always intriguing. Horror is other people, when their oddness gets out of hand.
And back to the distressed and mental health of women:
Of course, there was ‘Promising Young Woman’
and ‘Lucky’ but the other favourite was Prano Bailey-Bond’s ‘Censor’.
The premise was catnip for genre fans: a censor cracks up in the Eighties’ video
nasty period. The certain British Eighties grubbiness is well represented and then
homages to the genre take control. Hey: in the woods! It was a vivid example of
horror homage: combining the genre's close affinity to trauma and nightmare
logic and aligning the 80s "Video Nasty" censorship with delusion,
denial and repression. Ratio changes, a touch of giallo and Niamh Algar's
flinty central performance make this both smart and playful.
Falling short of hitting the mark in the same area were
‘Knocking’ and ‘The Strings’. And they both began with gorgeous
beach shots: ‘Knocking’ was as gorgeously summery as ‘The Strings’
was gorgeously bleak.
Frida Kempff’s ‘Knocking’ had the
promising premise of a woman recovering from a breakdown besieged by knocking
in the apartment block where she is placed. Now, knocking is just frightening
(I learnt this from Robert Wise’s ‘The Haunting’ when at a tender age),
but the knocking here is distressing rather than frightening. Cecelia Milocco's
committed, nuanced performance holds it all together, its exploration of a
woman's fragile state being constantly under siege by real or imagined
urgencies and the horror of being disbelieved rang true enough. Yet, despite its
shorter run-time, it leaves its audience as much running in circles as the
distressed protagonist, doesn't quite follow up on some points and - being so
focused on her dilemma - the answer almost comes as an after-thought; or at
least at her expense. Too much build-up and too little pay-off?
Ryan Glover’s ‘The Strings’ made knocking
scary, but ultimately didn’t seem so interested in its horror feints. Certainly
our protagonist didn’t seem to be so bothered, just inconvenienced by them
maybe. Instead, there were plenty of nice scenes of her making music, which
anyone making DIY tunes will relate to. There is a great soundtrack and
presence by Teagan Johnston (the kind where any shonky acting doesn’t matter) but
when the spooky stuff happens - and it takes a loooong time to kick off - it
mostly comes to nothing as Catherine barely engages with the supernatural side
of the narrative: there's a tendency to cut away from heightened moments to the
everyday stuff with the impression that nothing really has any resonance. It
has desolate prettiness and great DIY music moments but ultimately doesn't let
the supernatural say anything about the character drama.
For male madness, there was Amber Sealey’s ‘No
Man of God’, a drama based around FBI analyst Bill Hagmaier’s
interviews with Ted Bundy. As Hagmaier, Elijah Woods initially seemed cast a
little against type but provided a career best. As Bundy, Luke Kirby gave a
convincing portrayal of a man whose charm has been much wrongly aggrandised. It
was a solid drama that always kept the victims as foremost in consideration, with
most of the drama coming from Bundy not coming clean. Not much glorification or
exploitation here.
To fantastical horror:
Alejandro Fadel’s ‘Murder Me, Monster’ was
the first film I saw in 2020 (although it was 2019, I think?) and proved quite
unforgettable. It’s slow burn and slightly offbeat approach to its tale of a
possible monster fixed to the symmetry of nature was not presented in a usual
fashion. It was more like ‘Once Upon a Time in Antonia’ than even your
typical smouldering moody horror (e.g. ‘Sator’). Wilfully cryptic, but there
was a monster and, boy, what a monster!
Brandon Cronenberg’s ‘Possessor’ was a
total shocker and immediate favourite. As clinical as his father’s early work,
but slick and confident, disturbing and highlighted with vivid violence and
practical effects in a way that felt distinctly his own. Technology, terrible violence,
big business conspiracy, identity crises, psychopathy, faltering identity and
reality, slightly abstract and thoroughly visceral… Chilling and thrilling.
And surely few would argue that Jordan Graham’ ‘Sator’ was an impressive piece of work, handmade almost totally by himself over seven years. Here was a film that thoroughly exploited the “banging is scary” that I mentioned earlier. But there were moments where it reminded me as much of Tarkovsky as the cabin-in-the-woods genre. Built from his grandmother’s genuine belief in a supernatural entity watching over them, the mood and the frighteners are consummately executed, the mystery maintained and resulted in a superior horror mood piece.
Another small-scale winning horror was Damian McCarthy’s
‘Caveat’, which was full of eerie images and creepiness, unsettling
and somewhere between Gothic and contemporary, supernatural and psychological
horror. Definitely left an impression from the moment I started smiling at the
genre delights of an amnesic protagonist and “didn’t I say it’s on an island?”
and “didn’t I mention you’ll be chained up?” It’s darkly amusing when a
protagonist doesn’t know he’s in a horror film.
But if you were looking for bonkers, trashy genre,
then you couldn’t go too far wrong with Richard Shepard’s ‘The Perfection’,
which started out in one place and then twisted and turned until it was
unrecognisable as the same film by the end. It’s a film where you just go along
for the ride and you soon stop saying “Wha…?” Not as artful as, say, ‘The
Handmaiden’, but fun nonetheless.
Bryan Bertino’s ‘The Dark and the Wicked’ was
slick enough, but a little lax in its internal logic. Similarly, Kimo Stanmboel’s
‘The Queen of Black Magic’ seemed to lack a magic ingredient that
made the most of its setting and premise. And I also enjoyed Anthon Scott Burn’s
‘Come True’ less than others. It had atmosphere but it’s not
often that ending won’t come as a source of frustration for me. These were
films very much stronger when building up.
The simple genre pleasures of Corinna Faith’s ‘The
Power’ were less disappointing, surely because I went in with lower
expectations. A great location in the old hospital distinguishing it and a somewhat
clunky feminist subtext (well, not so much sub) notwithstanding. Peter
Thorwarth’s ‘Blood Red Sky’ was enjoyable enough but also felt
like it should be that much better, hampered by angst and unnecessary flashbacks
that got in the way of its vampires-on-a-plane premise.
But then there were thorough losers for me. Jason Howden’s
‘Guns Akimbo’ never left its look-at-me! adolescence into
something self-aware and genuinely smart, which was a shame because I enjoyed
Howden’s ‘Deathgasm’. Not nearly as egregious but also not-so-good was
also Joe Carnahan’s ‘Boss level’, even if it had time-loops and video
game action.
There was the Nicolas Cage twofer Sion Sono’s ‘Prisoners
of the Ghostland’ and Kevin Lewis’ ‘Willy’s Wonderland’. ‘Ghostland’
was often just busy doing nothing and angsting when it should have been moving.
‘Wonderland’ wasn’t as much fun as it thought it was and seemed happy to
coast on It’s Fucking Nicolas Cage! For his part, Cage’s happy embracing
of the absurd was totally appropriate for these films, and it’s remarkable that
he could go from this to ‘Pig’ without missing a beat. The difference
being Cage the fanboy pop-phenomenon and Cage the actor.
Josh Ruben’s ‘Werewolves Within’,
however, won me over. Its comedic tone initially didn’t click with me, being
very much characters screeching at each other as if insisting on their
funniness. But when it ultimately turned to be a tirade against the eponymous
selfishness, I was fully on board. It’s a bit scrappy, but it has enough whodunnit?!
playfulness, wit and self-awareness, and good intention that it does a good job
of charming past its weaknesses. Not bad for a video game adaptation.
And in other otherworldly dilemmas, there was ‘Chaos
Walking’, whose gimmick of thoughts bursting out loud constantly – for the
men, at least – should have but didn’t sink it for me. Rather, it was a decent
Western-style sci-fi of the Young Adult variety. Decent in that it was easy to
watch, looked good and you can’t go far wrong With Tom Holland, Daisy Ridley and
Mads Mikkelson. But despite the Heard Male Thoughts gimmick, although thwarting
possible romantic interludes, the prodding at themes of machismo doesn’t do so
more than superficially (I haven’t read the source book, Patrick Ness’ ‘The
Knife of Never Letting Go’ but one provocative subplot seems to be that all the
women were murdered because the men couldn’t bear their thoughts being overheard
all the time).
Far more curious and impressive was Christopher
Caldwell and Zeek Earl similarly Western-inclined ‘Prospect’ (this
one was 2018). It turned that favoured low-budget location of a forest into an
alien planet just by having bits floating in the atmosphere. This was not a
film of big effects but was pretty and focused on the dilemma of a teenaged
girl fending for herself when marooned in a world peppered by mercenary prospectors.
Immersive and interested in story and atmosphere rather than dazzle.
Chino Moya’s ‘Undergods’ was also heavy
on atmosphere, but this time we were in a futuristic-ish European Dystopia, the
kind so washed out and beak that you’ll be inclined to remember it in black or
white. It was a bundle of connecting stories about how shit life can be, but also
intriguing tales of family and exploitation that had hints of fables about
them. There was a sense that this was only a glimpse of this world, that this
was the outskirts, and the fact that there was a desire to see more surely
meant it hit many of its targets.
But when it came to fantasy, it was David Lowery’s ‘The Green Knight’ that proved a most wonderous interpretation of the genre, inhabiting a touch of everything. Introverted, yes, with a measured pace and agreeably down-to-earth with a sense there were real feelings and anxieties to these archetypes. Yet quite happy to do bigger flourishes with wandering battleground aftermaths and giants. Monsters. Talking animals. Pretty fantasia. Gothic shadows. Mystery. Thoroughly beguiling.
______
Some
Favourite Moments
Mads Mikelson dancing in ‘Another Round’
The opening pre-credits sequence of ‘The Empty Man’
The opening of ‘The Beta Test’
The restaurant scene in ‘Pig’
The horror score in ‘Shiva Baby’
The shock of ‘Possessor’
The emotional impact of ‘So Long, My Son’
Giants walking in ‘The Green Knight
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