Annual: The Films of 2018 - Part VI

IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
(Let's wrap this thing up and go home, already!)

Please make note, every year it becomes increasingly more difficult to rank these, with the final order changing minutes up until this was published. But as of the beginning of 2019, this is the nail in the coffin; the best of the best. This list is flawless.

Actually, this list is subject to change entirely, as films are like an aging alcohol. Some will get better with time, others will grow sour. But for now, drink it up, folks. 

EVERYTHING I'VE SEEN IN 2018

#67 - 51

#50 - 41
#40 - 31
#30 - 21
#20 - 11
#10 - 01

** Best remake that's basically not a remake at all:

#10. Suspiria (2018)

The Bottom Line: EASILY the most polarizing film since 'Mother!'

Luca Guadagnino is an evil-ass puppeteer and for nearly three hours I was his helpless puppet. With this goddamn film, the two forces of nature that we so lazily call “good” and “bad” clutched hard at the arms of my opinions, and they were LITERALLY trying to tear me in two. Just look at my bipolar reaction after watching this thing.

  Directed by Luca Guadagnino ('Call Me By Your Name'), Suspiria ‘18 possesses elements from Suspiria ‘77 and while still very much so a moody horror film about ballet dancers gone dark, Guadagnino uses Dario Argento's cult-horror masterpiece as Cliff-notes to develop his own platform and on that platform, he has delivered an absolute beast of an original film. The precise care that went into the craft behind it is unimaginably admirable; the visually stunning cinematography, Thom Yorke’s soothingly haunting score, Swinton’s multi-range performances, the authentic dance choreography, and delicate balance between seductive feminine nature and grotesque body horror; The whole thing is a nightmarish lullaby, and whether you dig it or not, it’s impossible not to be entranced by what’s happening on screen.

  For better or worse, the new film is deeper and more complex than the original, baring heavy themes of German war and revolution which are up for grabs in terms of conversation about political metaphors. Outside of the thematic parallels between the two films, the most stark difference visually is easily in color pallet. Where Argento's original film is vibrant like a drug-induced fever dream, Guadagnino keeps color tones muted and very pale, using brightly lit shades of neon sparingly, notably during the dance performance sequences. Granted, this is still VERY much so a horror film even if mostly atmospheric horror. Luca is unafraid to dish out the blood and gore when he needs to, and when he does he burns the imagery in the minds of the audience. Guadagnino waits only thirty minutes into the film before delivering his first true, horror moment (the ballet "spell" sequence) and it is one of the most genuinely unnerving scenes I've ever seen in a horror film. 

  Like witchcraft itself, Guadagnino’s film casts a spell with equally mesmerizing and haunting charm, albeit the bloated 152 minute run-time will undoubtedly challenge audience's perception and patience in almost every aspect. Sure the film has a dazzling effect but beneath the surface it also appears to amount to very little beyond the impressive aesthetics of its craft. For one, the film’s biggest beef by far is the lack of The Hero’s Journey. Sure, we follow Susie (Dakota Johnson: The acting equivalent of a ham sandwich) but as a protagonist her character doesn't necessarily change or grow through any major transformation, making it difficult to not feel cheated by the lack of evolution through her character. But Guadagnino makes up for it by hosting a cast almost entirely made up of strong females, and even though most of them are never quite fleshed out they're part of a huge female empowerment with feminine expressionist themes that are bound to make right wing enthusiasts tremble in their seats. If the women don't cause the audiences to shake, the disturbing finale sure will.

  The climax is like a glimpse into hell. It looks like something ripped straight from a dark, religious cult, and feels like something we should not be watching. The bat-shit insanity of the scene alone nearly matches the gonzo horror of Argento's original. It's the lack of depth in the scene (if not all of Guadagnino's film) that leaves things perhaps too ambiguous for viewers, regardless of however much a mind f--k the whole thing is.

  In the end, the weight of this movie is soul crushing, leaving an after effect which feels like pure melancholy; as if Guadagnino has completely drained the life from an audience who didn’t deserve it. Much of the film is held back and often feels like a looking glass; were we the audience peering in on the Markos Academy though the eyes of Dr. Josef Klemperer, and even though we experience scarce moments of beauty and horror intertwined; wrapped in an enigma of unsettling mystery, we're ultimately nothing more than witnesses to what feels like a very small glimpse at a much bigger, deeper and darker story than what's actually being developed; as if our slate is wiped clean because we know something huge just happened, but we can't exactly recall it or describe what it makes us feel, or why we even feel it at all. It is for this reason alone that folks will call it a masterpiece, and others will declare it a piece of dog shit. Call it what you want, it's still art, and further proof that movies have the power to move people.

READ THE WHOLE INTERPRETIVE DANCE HERE

  

*5 points to Yorke
*20 points to Guadagnino
*10 points to Tilda Swinton for tackling multiple roles
(Rumor has it she even donned black face to play Mahershala Ali in Green Book)

Grade: A-

** Best accomplishment by Bo Burnham:

#9. Eighth Grade

The Bottom Line: The most stressful moviegoing experience of 2018

Eighth Grade is one of the most instantly relatable and therefore respectable films of all time. It captures young, awkward adolescence in its prime to degrees that no other film has even managed to come close to rubbing shoulders with. It harnesses the energy of an uncomfortable middle school experience more than middle school itself. No other picture has ever captured the bumbling transition from childhood to young adulthood in such a captivating and therefore horrifying manner. In a sense, Eighth Grade is one of the most sympathetically relevant films geared towards youth ever created. In this day of having to keep up with "being cool" and fulfilling whatever that means to not just kids of the age but to one's self, 'Eighth Grade' strokes themes of awkwardness I dare not even dabble with because it is in a sense one of the most unnervingly realistic experiences I've ever had while watching a film.

The fact that Bo f--king Burnham of all people wrote and directed this thing just goes to show how much he understands awkward teenage adolescence, turning EG into a textbook for young adults. The film is the essential middle school experience in a nutshell, and despite its R-rating it should be mandatory for every teenager to watch. The reason it works so well is that all the film's harsh realities and existential charm rests entirely on the shoulders of young Elsie Fisher's Kayla. The most stressful piece of the film is that Kayla is such a sweet and sometimes helpless character that you can't help but root for her, and the fact that she truly connects with no one but herself only makes her that much more sympathetic. Even her single father (a sympathetic Josh Hamilton) does his best to nurture her but as all young teenagers know, no one wants their parents around at that age. What Burnham captures through Kayla is so much more than a stellar performance because Burnham doesn't just understand awkward teenage behavior, he's practically documenting it for a new generation of kids who are facing these issues every day.

Fisher makes Kayla one of the most realistic and heartbreaking characters of any film in 2018. Kayla is such a frighteningly intimidated character, but one who's constantly picking herself back up in order to live her best life. To this aspect she's brave as f--k because to a degree, for this moment of her small, insignificant period of time, she's overcoming the biggest fears of her life, even if those fears are engulfed by the abhorrent toxicity of social media. And it is because of her bold independence that her father's words of confidence towards her are so genuine. Hell, that bonfire scene alone is the crux of not just Kayla's relationship with her father but of the character in Kayla becoming an adult. Even the film's chapters which are broken up by Kayla's YouTube videos where she painfully does her best to gain a following; each segment which paints a new lesson in Kayla's life as she uses these examples to teach other kids what she's learned from it; these are baby steps in a vulnerable teenager coming to terms with the harsh realities of life. It's terrifying, understandable and because of it, it's BEAUTIFUL.

Middle school is the placeholder for some of the most awkward years of a person's life because nearly everyone can relate to that awkward transition of growing up. It marks the small window of time for the years that we often remember the most but wish we would completely forget. Bo has something special here because this is so much more than a depiction of growing up; it's a time capsule. And just like Kayla's time capsules to her future self, this is a piece of art; a collection of memories and treasures that define who we are for a singular moment in time, even if it's the most awkward moment of our entire lives. As someone who's not a fan of Burnham's comedy, I'm blown away by how much I connected with this film; by how much I NEEDED this film. Goddammit Bo, there I go ugly crying again. I'm tapping out, guys. I'll be over in the corner silently cheering on Kayla who truly is... The coolest girl in the world. *Aggressive sobbing*

*10 points to Fisher
*10 points to Bo

*100 points to the painful years of adolescence - You kids who suffer through it each and every day; you're the real heroes*

Grade: A

** Funniest rewrite of an historical event: 

#8. The Favourite

The Bottom Line: Mean Girls of the 18th Century

Upon first glance, The Favourite looks like a straightforward period piece, but like any good Yorgos Lanthimos flick it’s a deliciously dark piece of humor disguised, this time in literal powdered wigs and puffy dresses, which inevitably only makes the funny funnier. Much like 'Death of Stalin', the film highlights a specific era of time during a past royal empire, featuring historic figures to very loosely recreate “historical events” as a means to tell an original comedy, although to call something as perfectly outrageous as 'The Favourite' “historically accurate” is funny in itself. The facts of the matter are that in the dawn of the 18th century, Queen Anne of England while at war with France favors Lady Sarah to govern things until Lady Abigail comes along to attempt to steal the spot in becoming the Queen’s new favourite. Those are real facts and Lanthimos does right by them. It’s what goes on BEHIND the facts that makes the movie tick, and not just everything beyond facts but everything behind closed doors between the three leading ladies (and some of those going-ons are HELLA gross).

  To add as many gay tendencies between the lead women as the filmmakers do, and NOT alter the course of history is a brilliant approach to screenwriting, because it’s using history as a basis for humor and so long as the facts don’t stray too far, comedy auteurs like Lanthimos can get away with imprinting their signature style on history, though to be fair screenwriting credit goes fully to *checks notes* Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara. Their screenplay is sharp as a blade, with cunning dialogue between cunts (the film gleefully exploits the c-word with proud elegance), but more so in its incredibly witty and fast paced jokes which slice abruptly but just subtly enough that it’s written and designed as a film to be watched over and over again. The fact that Davis and McNamara inject the amount of clever dialogue and mean spirited jokes into something related to historical accuracy is genius, and all the madness of The Favourite’s shenanigans belong to the cast.

  Between Rachel Weisz’ piercing nerve as Lady Sarah and Emma Stone’s caddy elegance as Lady Abigail, the two share a deadly chemistry that feels like a f--ked up relationship between two high school chicks. The snarky, passive-aggressive attitudes between the two women as they please the queen with their noses high and their intentions low, is the stuff of 1700s Regina George and Cady Heron. In fact, much of the movie plays out as a more queer and classy (though far more cynical) 18th century 'Mean Girls'. Hell, even the supporting cast is excellent. For one, Nicholas Hoult steals every goddamn scene he’s in by delivering a deadpan humor with evil quips of dialogue, while sporting a giant powdered wig and makeup. Perhaps notably so, weaving the two lead viper-women against each other, is Queen Anne played by the brutally hilarious Olivia Colman. The way in which Colman acts so childishly; the pathetic slugging around juxtaposed with her abrupt shouting at anyone who’s in her presence while she’s upset; her terrible moods and outrageous demands; She brilliantly sells the Queen were she 18th century Donald Trump.

  As a matter of fact, the political undertones go far beyond this being a literally historical piece, even if the terrible truths are far fetched. Just look at the desperate needs to please the Queen if only to spite a rival; all the slander and betrayal weaved together by a helpless troll of a woman with the patience of a spoiled toddler; a QUEEN no less, in times of turmoil for her country... Well folks, there’s LOTS to be dissected when it comes to the politics of pleasing someone of power in order to gain some form of respect, making The Favourite one of the sharpest political satires of our time.

  What ultimately makes the film shine is that these are admirable women but they’re despicable characters. In this age of rising female empowerment it’s refreshing to see women who rather than be portrayed as powerful, classy, or anything “ladylike” aren’t afraid to shout, cuss, slander, betray and get their hands dirty. These are belligerent, disgusting ladies and they’re all the better for it. 'The Favourite' is excellent because on the outside it looks completely elegant. It’s beautifully shot and filled with incredible set and art design. It has the appearance of a visual masterpiece and the soundtrack of classical significance. The acting is astounding and the writing and directing is classy as f--k, in the sense that this is an UGLY picture dressed up as a respectable one. With that; with all the political undertones, overtones between two tones; through the creative force of its historically brilliant screenwriters and the cynical behavior of its director, 'The Favourite' is perhaps the funniest, if not the flat-out meanest movie of 2018.

*10 points to the script

*15 points to Yorgos

*20 points to the ladies

Grade: A

** Best film directed by a woman 
(and proof that some female directors have more balls than men):

#7. You Were Never Really Here (2018 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Only Joe Forgives - The Psychosis of A Mental Breakdown

A film I went from resenting to embracing in only three days time; a film that inspired a rant, YWNRH is a brutal neo-noir which feels a lot like an overly abstract piece of expressionist art house trash (and for the books, that’s coming from the guy who digs 'Drive' - a film which could be described identically), but beneath the surface, writer-director Lynne Ramsay is far more concerned with diving DEEP into the damaged psyche of Phoenix's Joe than exploring his vengeful acts of violence. And while there are scarce moments of hard violence, it's the grim mood of Ramsay's world that immerses us in an experience that allows us to legitimately feel as if we've witnessed a blood bath. Ramsay keeps the presence of the entire film maintained in a brutal darkness were it pulled from someone's worst nightmare. The film's bleak tone and mean spirited attitude only bring out pure anxiety from her talent; the violence ruthless and the tension pulsating at nearly every second.

  Note that this is also some of the best work Joaquin Phoenix has literally EVER done. His performance as the mysterious Joe is so chilling; so haunting, but so incredibly dialed back, that it’s impossible to gauge whether he’s going to hug one person, or bludgeon another in the face with a hammer to death. The gritty silence of the film's disturbed protagonist feels reminiscent of Drive; the father-figure for the young girl in peril explores themes that feel akin to The Professional. From beginning to finish, YWNRH absolutely screams potential of being the next Taxi Driver, even if it appears as little beyond an art house morale dressed up as a violent revenge flick.

  On the surface, this is a film about a broken man who saves a little girl. Taken at face value, the surface of the film will leave disappointment. But buried beneath the film's surface, we examine a drifter who suffers from PTSD for multiple, disturbing reasons; a man who's lost all connection with empathy and humanity and uses his last will and sacrifice to do what he feels is right; although the film is never once actually about Joe saving anyone, aside from himself. The film of course explores Joe being clinically insane, but more importantly, it basks in the character being on the verge of a mental breakdown. Joe takes care of his elderly mother, the only living human being he shares a connection with, and thus we see his humanity. But once Joe crosses the wrong people, in a plot to rescue a young girl who's been kidnapped by pedophiles, we see Joe's true colors as the emotionally disconnected killer; the un-caged animal that he is. But as stated, this isn't a story about Joe seeking revenge, it's about all of his demons threatening to consume him entirely.

  Ramsay uniquely stages much of the violence either hidden, off screen or entirely aside from the fact, leaving Joe in a broken aftermath, rather than be engorged in a brutal murder scene; a poignant move that bakes the audience in Joe's trauma; his humane inability to sustain his grip on reality. Rather than watching him commit violence, we see him shattered by the slow-burning ramifications of the disgusting world he lives in. In short, this isn't an action movie, a fast-paced flick, nor is it a film that's designed for mass audiences. It's oddly specific in its stretched intimacy of total darkness. As with any film that has layers this thick, YWNRH is a piece of abstract expressionism designed to be digested SLOWLY. Thomas Townend's cinematography contains long, slow zooms on Phoenix as he becomes unhinged, staged to Johnny Greenwood's all-timer of a haunting score. Ramsay snowballs these pieces together and stages them were they pulled from a nightmarish fever dream; a dream where much of the scenery is intentionally without dialogue, allowing the audience to boil in the chaotic psychosis of Joe's character. And as a character study, You Were Never Really Here is one of the most effective films ever made.

  

*10 points to Phoenix's dope beard.

*50 points to Ramsay - hell yeah, woman

Grade: A

** More complex than credited:

#6. Annihilation

The Bottom Line: A hollow yet profound sci-fi film for the ages

For a film where characters consistently propose huge questions, Annihilation often responds with characters literally, repeatedly saying “I don’t know.” This is either a very meta representation of the film’s mystery or a literal cluelessness to its big-thinking concepts. 'Ex Machina' is one of the best sci-fi films I’ve ever seen in my entire life, so naturally when I heard that director Alex Garland’s sophomore sci-fi selection was going to be 'Annihilation,' my ticket was pretty much purchased. So where does this leave us? Well, you know the drill. Oscar Isaac returns (but unfortunately no sexy dancing this time around) as Kane, a man sent on an exploration mission to some sci-fi realm called Area X, or as scientists call it “The Shimmer,” which is basically just a giant, growing rainbow-bubble in the middle of the woods, which is sprouting all kinds of bizarre behavior within the nature of the animals, life and elements that exist within said bubble. Kane returns home from The Shimmer and is not like himself (DRAMA!); He’s sick, he’s lost his memory, and he’s dying and so his wife Lena (Natalie Portman), a biologist, an intellectual; a total babe who never smiles, packs up with a bunch of lady Ghostbusters as they try and solve the mysteries behind this realm of a giant alien bubble (PLOT!).

  And I gotta say, there are almost no words to describe the effect of a movie like Annihilation. It looks and feels like a cousin of 2016’s Arrival but it also reaches out so far beyond standard sci-fi tropes. For one, yes it’s pretty much an all-female cast which is cool because a movie to this caliber of heavy hearted sci-fi would normally be designated to a mostly (if not all) male cast, and while the matching jump suits, backpacks and weapons are all visually reminiscent of 2016’s all female reboot of Ghostbusters, it’s safe to say this one doesn’t feature Leslie Jones shouting at people (and we’re all the better for it). It is refreshing to see mostly all women in a real “thinking man’s movie,” even if some of the characters aren't very fleshed out beyond Portman. Jennifer Jason Leigh and Tessa Thompson are incredible but their characters don't truly develop until the end of their story arcs. Then again, perhaps it was Garland's goal to only spoon-feed the characters as bridges to the bigger ideas.

  As far as the sci-fi goes, this is literally some of the most eye-popping and straight up bizarre I’ve seen in a sci-fi film, in years. The film transcends multiple genres exploring corners like creature-feature violence to grotesque body horror. And it’s not easy horror with jump scares, rather than a slow brooding, disturbing sense of dread that stews within you (I mean, that f--king BEAR? My God. Pure nightmare fuel).

  While the tone at times feels impressively close to John Carpenter’s The Thing, the bizarre climax and the bold ending are unlike anything I’ve seen in recent sci-fi. The final showdown is so refreshingly rebellious to Hollywood formula, like something out of The Twilight Zone; filled with a haunting presence, and lingering on a final shot that will keep audiences in shivers and ravaging contemplation, which ultimately keep the film from falling apart. The whole film is plagued with wonderful ideas, unafraid to explore its dark themes, and is at its strongest when things get really f--king weird. On the surface this film is a rescue mission; a wife’s journey into the weird in order to save her husband’s life. Deeper down the film plagues big questions masqueraded by psychedelic visuals and horrific creatures to challenge what we know, even if it all often feels like two hours constantly grasping for more. Perhaps that’s the entire point of the film and in that sense, maybe it is brilliant in that Lynchian sense. Years from now, it may be hailed as an unsung sci-fi masterpiece, and perhaps that’s exactly why among all the dreck, 'Annihilation' will be talked about as one of 2018’s most intriguing films.

*10 points to Garland
*5 points to that horrifying bear LEAVE MY DREAMS ALONE

Grade: A

** Most metaphorical title:
** Second Best foreign film:

#5. Burning

The Bottom Line: Steven Yuen will charm the pants off any man, and the shirts off any loose woman.

                                 
  Forget 2018. Korea has just put out one of the most effective thrillers ever made. Chang-dong Lee has engorged his erect Chang-Lee-dong to plow his feeble audience to such an unfathomable level that folks could spend YEARS debating all the underlying ambiguity that lingers within a film like Burning and STILL not reach any valid conclusions, outside of the realm of subjective speculation. And goddammit, if that’s not the power of influential filmmaking I don’t know what is.

  Lee maintains a powerful ability to keep audiences hanging by such a tight thread of anticipation with only clues as to what the film's answers COULD be, that by the time it's all over (148 slowly burned minutes) there are such minuscule shifts in actual concrete plot that it's nearly impossible to digest everything to transpire over a two-and-a-half-hour journey which inevitably seems to amount to so very little while unraveling endless possibility.

  Of course it can be argued that the film boils down to very little; that what starts as a story of what could be described as a semi-love-triangle results in an incredibly ambiguous mystery thriller that never truly solves any of our questions. But even then Lee doesn’t provide us with the instant gratification of being able to describe the film under any simple classifications. To a degree, Burning suffers due to its extreme vagueness. To counteract that, it's also this very vagueness that will have anyone marinating in the film so long after it's over they'll inevitably question LITERALLY everything they've witnessed. Rather than resolve questions with solutions, the Korean director is daring his audience to go beyond the bread crumbs, through the mysterious dialogue, and delving into a realm of absolute suspicion regarding everything from the dialogue to the choice of shots.  Not a single frame of Burning is wasted, even when we’re unsure of why some scenes were left in at all. Without the desire for the depth that Lee is striving for, the entire seduction of the film’s mystery is all but guaranteed to be written off by folks who don’t vibe with a movie that’s THIS stubborn to forego any clear solutions.

  Lee sticks to a very simple formula by carving out only three characters; two who are well developed, and one left up to complete mystery. By throwing in the third monkey wrench, Lee uses his tools to pin characters against each other while never actually creating any physical conflict. So much of what's going on in the plot, and even the seemingly irrelevant dialogue, is counteracted by a force that contradicts any truths the film might hold. Lee’s twisted work is a result of what we only merely THINK the protagonist is thinking which, with the baked run time, not only allows us to crawl inside the mind of Jong-su and soak in his utter loneliness, but with all the suspended ambiguity, marinate in what is one of the most effective psychological thrillers ever made.

  

BURN ONE OUT FOR THE DONG

*10 points to Steven Yuen

*50 points to Chang-dong Lee

*100 points to Chang-Lee’s massive dong

Grade: A

** Best horror movie:
** Best performance from a lead actress:

#4. Hereditary

The Bottom Line: A modern day horror masterpiece
(Heads will roll for this one)

• To those who have seen this flick, here is my ungodly reaction to watching it in real time, breaking it down shot for shot (I know, I'm a crazy person).

• To the A24 fans who care to dive a little deeper, here's a piece I did after watching this and First Reformed.

Hailed by some as The Exorcist or Rosemary’s Baby of our time, Hereditary is not only bold AF, but like the godfathers of horror it is something far more sinister in its nature to legitimately disturb, and for that is one of the most notable horror films of the twenty-first century. 

  Straight up, everything about Hereditary is evil. From a boiling score that sounds ripped from the bowels of hell, down to director Ari Aster’s bleak nature to slowly (and literally) tear a good family apart, the film doesn’t just get literally demonic, it embraces the sinister nature of all the darkness of this world and the next. But even beyond the realm of the supernatural, Hereditary uses fictional horror to masquerade what is essentially a family drama about grief. On the surface the plot is a complex string of mysteries surrounding dark cults and demonic bloodlines that all culminate to a singular purpose, but like the Where’s Waldo of horror movies Hereditary also possesses an insane amount of scattered clues that piece these mysteries together, which demands multiple viewings of the film in order to catch. To the film’s credit, all these minut details don’t just make for a brilliant screenplay but the more the clues are spotted the more utterly horrifying the film becomes. Be it performing tricks with the lighting, or building an entire set of the Graham house in order to sneak cameras in separate entrances; by using dolls and doll houses as not just metaphors but creepy means of exposition, Aster is a master of his craft and by hinting at as many plot-clues as he does without actually shedding light on them makes his debut a modern day horror masterpiece.

  Aster’s got some horrible stuff in here that ranges from unsettling to downright disturbing, with imagery that will make one want to sleep with the lights on. There’s a moment with a car and a light-post and it is one of the singular most ballsy moves I've ever seen in a horror movie. There are sequences where characters hide completely in the dark that are only recognizable to those who are keeping their eyes completely open. There are shots in the film that linger within the nature of the horror that the Graham family experiences; some characters screaming, while others silently terrified at what’s happening to them; sequences that will churn stomachs and linger long after it's over. But even beyond the inner-workings of the twisted script are all the players involved, most notably an Oscarworthy performance from Toni Collette. The Annie Graham character is easily her most complex role to date and it makes for perhaps the greatest on-screen performance Collette has ever put on. By ranging the Annie character from being frighteningly misunderstood to completely mental, Aster is a mean puppeteer to the tragic character and as the audience only learns as much plot as the Graham family, we too are his puppets. Hell that dinner-table scene alone is a staple for Collette’s acting ability and is perhaps even more chilling than the ending itself.

  With a stunning directorial debut Ari Aster has served a dish of delayed gratification, one small course and one decapitation at a time. His film is like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle of fear that demands to be slowly put together, taken apart, and rebuilt again and again. Aster has done his homework and for him to clearly study not just past horror movies or demonic history, but the craft in tension building he has made a film that feels purely and utterly evil. His dive into grief is frighteningly bold, and his unabashed ability to be as cynical as he is with his characters goes to show that the dude doesn’t just have the balls but an evil magic in making audiences feel like they’re truly witnessing something ungodly; like something ripped from a satanic book. It feels like something we shouldn’t be watching. In other words, it’s a film VERY much so like The Exorcist.

*25 points to Collette

*50 points to Aster

Grade: A

  

** Best use of Nicholas Cage in a film, ever:

#3. Mandy

The Bottom Line: NICK UNCAGED

AKA: METALOCALYPSE: The Movie!

A film so chaotic that it could only be helmed by the likes of Nick Cage, Mandy is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in cinema, perhaps ever. With an apocalyptic take on 80s heavy metal punk atmosphere, this dark action vehicle feels reminiscent of George Miller’s Mad Max: Fury Road, and that goes far beyond the film’s vibrant color scheme of lush visuals. The film also dabbles in a slow-burn psychedelic pool of gothic body horror that often feels ripped directly from Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. Together these genres are mashed and molded into a pulpy piece of art-house schlock of visual wonder from the mind of a mad creator and love it or hate it, Mandy is a unique portrait of some kind of bizarre art that’s destined for a cult following.

  Set very specifically in 1983, Panos Cosmatos creates a lush world of heavy metal vibrancy that almost never lets up from its fever dream tone of visual wonder, which often feels like the film was literally made during the days of 1980s hair metal. Swallowed by a grim tone that feels as if the world has ended and our characters are living in a literal hell on earth, the film exudes an apocalyptic darkness beyond its satanic cult of sick “Jesus freaks,” as they’re so blissfully described (Cage’s description of them as “a crazy evil” is more on the nose). Beyond just the dialogue and references to 80s books and pop culture that absorbs a cosmic energy surrounding myth, space, science, creatures, and gods, Mandy lives and breathes its “metal” personality so far beyond just wearing the darkness on its sleeve. Filled to the brim with biblical dialogue this is a film that literally feels like a legend told in a Dio song. The talks of worshipped deities and creators drips from the mouths of vile characters were they from a wicked folklore; like a missing chapter from the Book of Revelation. It’s a notion that Cosmatos is fully aware of and it is embraced, if not milked to its every potential. 

  Save for the fact that the film is also tuned to an excellently pulsating synth-electric-rock soundtrack that literally killed composer Johann Johannsson (mad respect), the whole thing often feels inspired by Cosmatos’ vision of a heavy metal apocalypse. The vibrant color tones; the neon pinks and the enveloped scopes of literal contrast of light and dark, the film feels straight up evil; like it was ripped from the bowels of hell. In other words, it’s the perfect setting for a dark cult to play the part of the villains. In perhaps one of the most uncomfortably slimy performances ever portrayed in film, cult leader Jeremiah is given the role of a lifetime by Linus Roache, who with his pale, flabby skin, bleached locks and worn eyes is all but a human representation of the devil himself. He feels like a villain directly from a bygone era of 80s horror movies and his performance is utterly terrifying. On top of that, Jeremiah’s cronies are all played to astutely vicious attention were the actors mutants themselves, and with some of the Cenobite creatures dressed in their S&M leather, spikes, chains and spoken demonic voices, they might as well be.

  Among all these characters, it’s obviously Nicholas Cage’s leading man Red who’s the star of the show, and if there’s one major credit to give Cosmatos in terms of his casting, it’s that he channels a rage in Cage; the unhinged madness we’ve all come to know so well, and uses it so goddamn meticulously, it could be stated that this is not only Cage’s most fitting character he’s ever portrayed, but the role he was born to play. Keep in mind this is STILL Nick Cage we’re talking about here; It’s an other-worldly plateau of insanity. So naturally once Red DOES begin to go “hunting” as he describes, that’s when the film is able to breathe at the psychotic pace Cosmatos builds to from the opening frame, so much so that once we get to that transition, the film has already been basking in such bizarre horrors that it doesn’t matter what rules apply to the film’s shenanigans at that point. 

  Cage melds together a cosmic axe while wearing aviators; he drives a blacked out muscle car and snipes monsters from the woods with steel arrows that can cut through bone “like a fat kid through cake.” He burns motherf--kers alive and slices off their heads as the dark blood of his enemies pours onto his screaming face. It’s the kinda stuff so chaotic that only someone with the madness of Cage could pull off, and Cage harnesses a hellbent energy that fits Cosmatos’ vision flawlessly.  For f--k’s sake, there’s a moment where Cage, covered in blood, snaps a villain’s neck and the unhinged look of madness in his eye when he does it is the most spitting ‘Nick Cage’ he’s ever looked. It’s like Panos is channeling all the unnecessarily chaotic energy that Cage has exuded his entire career. As if that moment weren’t enough, Cage follows it up by snorting a mountain of powerful cocaine off a mythical dagger and drinking a supernatural LSD smoothie before dueling in a chainsaw battle amidst a flaming junk yard arena (you LITERALLY can’t make this shit up).

  Folks. This movie is bat-shit insane beyond all reason, but it’s crafted to such a vibrant degree of hellish artistry that it could only be helmed by the likes of a filmmaker with this oddly specific of a vision; a vision that’s designed to such weirdly eccentric levels, that at the very least represents a really thick stab at fine filmmaking that’s straight up just not seen too often anymore. Whether or not Mandy actually lives up to the hype, it’s most likely going to end up as the flat-out most ambitious film of 2018.

  P.S. The movie is also metal as f--k so hell yeah for that.

*10 points to metal movies

*50 points to the coke-snorting, chainsaw wielding madness that is Nick Cage

*100 points to Panos Cosmatos; to his vision and his ability to channel the rage of Cage

Grade: A

** Best black & white cinematography:
** Best foreign film:

#2. Roma

The Bottom Line: Alfonso Cuarón awoke from his five-year hibernation to remind me why movies make me want to be alive.

Inspired by his own life growing up in Mexico City; by taking a nosedive into his roots, and by dialing back on plot, dialogue, music and color tone, Alfonso Cuarón has poured his literal heart into Roma; his soul dripping into every frame, and it is not just his most personal and intimate film to date but perhaps also his best (Actually. Scratch that. So long as Children of Men exists cinema will have peaked and nothing else will stand a chance).

Like Scorsese with Silence, Cuarón seems to have been building his entire career to this very film.

Shot on lush 65MM black & white film, staged to the streets of 1970s Mexico City, Roma has NO business looking as authentic as it does. With gorgeous cinematography that ranges from up close shots of the wrinkles in the actor’s faces down to the beautiful backdrop of raw life in Mexico nearly 50 years ago, watching Roma is like flipping through an old photo album. The frames of Mexico City are filled with such an ethnic portrayal of astounding detail, the visual scale doesn’t even appear to be a recreation of the past rather than an actual depiction of 70s Colonia Roma were Cuarón showing the world documented footage of a bygone era. This shit it so real it feels like the work of a goddamn time-traveler. You can practically SMELL the dingy air of these 1970s niños. The attention to the obscurity alone; the background - the construction of the rundown buildings; the foreground - the children running in the streets; the nuance in unnoticeable specs - the contrast in outfits and cars; for God’s sake, even the cracks in the tiles of the floor; these are all elements that feel like a complete ode to the past. Speaking of floor tiles, the opening silent five minute intro to the film sets the ENTIRE mood for the one-hundred-and-thirty minutes that follow.

The beauty in a film like Roma is in its clash of themes. Through the eyes of a quiet house maid Cuarón depicts a fractured family; a middle class wife who devotes the same amount of care to her children as a husband does attempting to park his obnoxiously large luxury car into a tight driveway space; an environment where the dog shits everywhere and the most frustrating day-to-day conflict is cleaning it up. Roma is filled with moments where there’s not much plot and the lack of “story” will no doubt leave many viewers leaving wanting more, but this is also not a film at all focused on what’s happening in a linear story line rather than how the characters are reacting to the crumbling world around them. There are endless scenes of intimate joys that are juxtaposed with the terrors of the world; the announcement of a pregnancy is quite LITERALLY interrupted by an earthquake. A New Years celebration is called short due to a breakout of forest fires. And it is not the fires that Alfonso is focused on rather than the attention to a man who sings a peaceful song as the clock strikes midnight while the townspeople, old, young, women and children, come together to put these fires out. This isn’t a film at all about a plot rather than the brief glimpses into the humanity or lack of, from the people of Mexico City.

Cuarón very deliberately paints a world where men are misogynistic pigs and women have no choice but to survive with them. Husbands are scumbags and dads are deadbeats. Even the portrayal of an intense male martial arts session is capitulated by one of the film’s most verbally abusive moments against a woman, and it’s more painful to watch than the physical violence committed by the riots in the streets by aggressive protestors. Sure Cuarón has plenty of loud political statements to make with his little picture, and whether his intention or not, his statements from an era nearly half a century ago are as bold in 2018 as they were in 1971. Roma is staged to a time of war both physically and personally, and the Mexican filmmaker is using this time to paint a very ugly world that beautiful characters live in. Cuarón marinates his audience in the world of Roma before building to a completely unleashed inner turmoil within the film’s final act, and while the artistic brilliance of making viewers wait to feel their feelings is of course thanks to the Mexican writer-director, the emotional impact almost entirely rests on his lead actress Yalitza Aparicio who turns Cleo into perhaps the most heartbreaking and sympathetic cinematic character in all of 2018. 

  Considering the amount of talent here, the fact that this is Aparicio’s debut role is absolutely insane. Her performance is so dialed back that you can feel all of Cleo’s emotions through just the look in her eyes. By focusing on a low class maid Cuarón isn’t breaking new ground in character, but by keeping Cleo as silent as he does; and for Aparicio to move mountains with such a sweet, somber role is the stuff that dares to make a grown man cry and be proud to declare it. The notion of Cleo being constantly kicked when she’s down is a running theme of the film, but for Aparicio to keep the character as selfless and humble as she is tugs on heartstrings that even the most bleak human being wouldn’t be aware they had. Cleo’s determination to be strong; her devotion to a group of children that aren’t even hers; all while perpetually being harassed, insulted, put down; it’s the kinda thing that reminds audiences what a good human looks like even though as history repeatedly shows, bad things often happen to good people. There’s a “goodbye” scene in the middle act of the film that’s easily one of the most heart wrenching moments of 2018’s films. Aparicio doesn’t just sell the scene with the confidence of a real person but displays raw emotion in a way that feels like Cuarón is ripping the audience’s heart from their chest and shattering it to a thousand pieces.

When people say Roma is heartbreaking it’s not subjective. MUCH of the film is the Mexican filmmaker trying to to tear down the emotional barrier of his viewers scene by scene. But like any roller coaster of a busy city; the ups and downs juxtaposed by noise and silence all at once, Cuarón is also embracing the intimacies of life to strike the chords of humanity, even if just through the beach scene alone. Cuarón’s film may be hailed a modern day masterpiece but more importantly it’s an authentic statement of history, and a defining portrait that exemplifies why anyone cares about any character in any film ever; why a character like Cleo is so powerful with no dialogue, where nearly any male character is utterly slimy with TONS of dialogue. With his latest picture, Cuarón has poured his heart and soul into cinema, giving his audience a taste of history while basking in the beauty of history’s moments. Roma is a damn TREASURE CHEST of moments and all of the feelings that come with them, even if just from the perspective of a poor maid girl who’s just trying to live her best life. And for that it is one of the most sad, sweet, sincere pieces of broken human artistry ever depicted on film, and it deserves our utmost respect. 

P.S.

That beach sequence by the way, was one of the most genuinely moving moments I’ve had in cinema, in ALL of 2018. Not since 'Eighth Grade' had I realized I was even a person with people feelings, and dammit did this movie make me feel feelings and I felt it right in the feels.

*50 points to Yalitza Aparicio
*200 points to Cuarón
Curse you Cuarón, you beautiful Mexican starfish.

Grade: A+

** Best depiction of the spiritual, philosophical and literal destruction of mankind

#1. First Reformed (2018 US Release)

The Bottom Line: A religious cinematic experience

“Who can know the mind of God?”

*Here’s an A24 piece for y’all.*

I've taken the Lord's name in vain far too many time today, but this is the last time: Paul Schrader’s magnum opus, First Reformed is a goddamned masterpiece. There, I said it. Not only does it boost the iconic A24 Films legacy, it’s also one of the most horrific depictions of bottled up tension ever captured on film.

Shot on classic 4.3 boxed in aspect ratio, with framed opening credits, Reformed drips every ounce of classic cinema in every sense. Coming off the heels of a reputation that is Taxi Driver, Schrader presents a piece that feels like an end cap to his career which is also one of the most poignant films of 2018. Schrader tackles not just the complexities of the church, the inner turmoil of a pastor, or the unfathomable questions of God, but the thematic topics of global warming, and the horrifying nature of the destruction of man both inward and out, which makes First Reformed a sobering reflection of religion but only as a blanket for a timely and psychological horror commentary on mankind (Yeah, it’s a lot to unpack and Schrader treats it with intimacy and intensity like the sermon on the mount).

As far as character pieces go, Ethan Hawke’s Reverend Toller is easily one of the man’s greatest performances to date. The way in which Hawke dials so much back in order to express anguish and disdain through Toller’s near silent trauma makes for one of the most powerful and disturbing film characters in recent memory (even if he does share more than a few similarities to Schrader’s Travis Bickle). The amount of pressure that Toller takes on to preach as an innocent and sinless man while squirreling away his own demons not only makes him human, but entirely relatable, and Hawke sells the bottled up tension were he about to literally explode (no puns intended). Toller’s diary entires to the audience weave out like the ravings of a mad man at confession, his words flowing with an unspooled resilience were he addressing God himself as a broken spirit; his journey an intimate transgression that the audience swallows wholeheartedly, yet barely even scratched upon by another human being. Schrader’s narrative decisions to keep Toller as cooped up from the world as he is makes him one of the most understandable characters of 2018 (to a point that is).

Take for example Toller’s conversation with Michael about man’s self destructive nature on the planet; it’s a powerfully sobering commentary on global warming but it also expresses the reverend's concern, even amidst his vagueness and genuine unknowing of how to answer these huge questions. Even when fellow Reverend Jeffers (Cedric The Entertainer) extends genuine concern for Toller, he's returned with quiet, passive-aggressive behavior, be it Toller's envy of Jeffers' successful mega church, or something else entirely. As Chang-dong Lee did with Burning, Schrader uses his lack of answers to keep the audience mystified. The film uses each character within the reverend’s life to challenge and test his persistence in cracking beneath all the pressure of being perfect, of course the crux of the film’s relationships lying between Toller and Amanda Seyfried’s Mary (real clever there, Schrader!); a relationship which feels forbidden, if only by means of as much sexual tension as the good pastor’s intentions of internally exploding (no puns intended).

Where Schrader had every opportunity to expose a sexual and (by means of the story) a sinful relationship, he instead stretches the intimacy between the two leads to drive Toller’s willpower to resist temptation as equally as his determination to justify his innocence, if to no one but himself. The brilliance in Schrader’s writing in his use of the Mary relationship is that she's at first all but an innocent widow who seeks nothing but justification for the cruelties of the world, pinned against an already broken pastor who uses his comfort to this grieving woman as a means to become more intimate with her. Brilliantly though, none of this is actually stated but only made obvious through Shcrader's direction with his actors. Although the two characters almost never engage physically, their feelings for one another are undeniably explicit, even if never once expressed through dialogue.

Guys... Schrader is a genius puppeteer who’s stretching the audience’s patience as much as his character’s tension. So much of the film is just pure anticipation, and in not knowing the unpredictable nature of the disturbed reverend’s intentions makes for something far beyond a suspenseful drama. By the film’s climax this thing turns into a straight up psychological horror. First Reformed is a quiet time bomb as innocently sensitive as it is unexpectedly menacing. It’s a film that tackles huge themes of mankind’s self-destructive nature juxtaposed with the ideas of God and His intentions of saving humanity. In retrospect, the true horror aspect of the film is the idea that God doesn’t exist at all and that this world is doomed to crumble by the hand of mankind, and regardless of the audience’s faith, Schrader impales this fear upon the audience with sharp, abundant clarity. Like religion and God itself, Reformed is a piece that will rub folks the wrong way, but to those open to the religion of cinema; the grandiose vision of auteurs like Schrader, this is a dark, crucial film that is bound to inaugurate moviegoers up to the complexity of spirituality, if only from an imperfect human perspective. If nothing else, Reformed is a hell of an art piece and one of the most poignant of our time.

*10,000 HAIL MARY’S FOR US ALL

  
*50 points to Hawke man
*100 points to Paul f---ing Schrader

Grade: A

*EPILOGUE*

   Well, there you have it folks.

  Another year, another wank to A24 Films and the unabashedly successful resurgence of horror movies, if not some dark art-house schlock that I lathered up. 2018 ended up being an excellent year as some of these films have blown me away were I snapped out of existence and turned to cosmic ash. The year ended kindly enough to prove that although Disney continues to eat up mega studios and corporations as The Blob conglomerate of our time, some small films out there still have the power to prevail, and continue to live on independently, controversially, and will likely be seen by the mass audiences of nearly no one. Ah yes, let us reflect on the day and age of streaming where Paramount continues to bomb, and cleverly original pieces like Annihilation fail at the box office while Netflix proceeds to churn out chum like Bird Box. Good LORD how in the actual f--k did Bird Box become a social media phenomenon in a span of like two weeks? It's a damned Quiet Place rip-off mixed with *checks  notes* The Happening??? Woof. My, how the age of moviegoers has fallen so far as mankind loses its sight of real "quality" cinema... I mean, we just had what, our SIXTH Transformers movie released? Gimme a break, folks. And ironically, it's supposedly the best live-action Transformers movie to date? And NO ONE IS WATCHING IT? Ya know why? Because we've all got FAN FATIGUE. Hell, I'm a FAN of the first few Transformers movies (yes, even Revenge of the Fallen so PLEASE take your hatred elsewhere), and I enjoy them because they're ENJOYABLE BLOCKBUSTERS. But even then, I'm not even remotely interested in Bumblebee, because I'm tired, man. I don't want more Transformers because it's old news. I'm glad it's doing well critically but that's because despite tired fans like myself, it's most likely an ENJOYABLE BLOCKBUSTER. You know what else is supposedly an enjoyable Blockbuster (and doing quite well at the box office, I might add)? AQUAMAN. But don't even get me started on the comic book movies, dear LORD. The feud between comic book movie fans these days is ALMOST as bad as extremist right wing/left wing politics. GOD FORBID someone mention the DCEU without some Marvel f--k boy pulling out their d--k shouting RIP DC, MCU FTW, honestly it's cancer to moviegoers everywhere. It's absolute toxicity. It's not even fun being a comic book movie fan anymore. Bring back the OLD days where comic book movies felt like COMIC BOOKS. For f--k's sake, dudes like Sam Raimi gave cinema pop culture films that gave legitimate visual representation to GRAPHIC novels. These are films that are supposed to be a visual spectacle, not just regurgitated CGI vomit. Although I will say, it was hella cool when Thanos took down that planet. Look, it's not that I hate the MCU, I just resent the unavoidable nature of ignorant fanboys...

...He went on like that for another 46 years... Rambling incoherent nonsense as all his loved ones; his wife; his children; all his family and friends abandoned his bedside one by one, leaving him to nothing but his endless words and irrelevant opinions about film. After much belligerent shouting, the nurse finally pulled the plug, and he died peacefully in his sleep. The gods of cinema embraced him with open arms and he finally stayed quiet, that is until someone brought up Moonlight... He never did seem to let that one go.

 *END OF EPILOGUE*

*Cue end credits - I Love Lucy Theme fades in*

2019 Wish List:

• Captain Marvel
• Us *MOST ANTICIPATED*
• Pet Sematary
• Avengers: Endgame
• John Wick: Chapter 3
• Godzilla: King of Monsters
• It: Chapter Two
• Untitled Joaquin Phoenix 'Joker' Movie
• Star Wars: Episode IX

   Real talk, to those who stick by me and read this outrageous descent into madness year after year, this is an ungodly amount of words... I owe you my most sincere gratitude. Thank you for your love and support, and above all else, thank you for once again allowing me to waste your precious time.

KNIBB HIGH FOOTBALL RULES

-End of 2018-

May the Force be with you all.