Annual: Top 25 Films of 2019

Greetings, hebrews and shebrews. It's that time of the year again where I write a lot about movies I didn't make. 2019 made for a very bizarre shift in cinema. Most of the box office made bank with Disney-produced bile, while the beating heart of this cold and desolate world of quality cinema was rightfully reflected through dark and ominous pictures which were absolutely hopeless. Perhaps that means I just need a self evaluation, but this year at the movies proved that the more bleak the better.

2019 was a hoot. A24 continued to dominate bold and unique craftsmanship, indie films ripped our hearts out, auteurs Scorsese and Tarantino gave send-offs to the eras that shaped them, we got a new Joker movie and everyone was divided on it, and foreign films predominantly told cautionary tales about love, loss and classism. There was a parasite, a lighthouse, a lady was on fire. It was a strange and small but immensely satisfying year for cinema.

This year, instead of ranking every single film I saw, I'm gonna make this real easy for y'all and only dish out the top 25. For more words on my slow descent into madness, here's where you can find everything I have to say about every movie I watch, hopelessly and maddeningly unfiltered (Don't say I didn't warn you).

If you're in a hurry, here's the list without all the nonsense attached.

*List has been finalized as of January 2020*
List is subject to change as some films age like a fine wine, and others grow sour.

As always, to all those who follow me on this deranged journey into madness, to you I owe all of my gratitude.

Anyway, let's shut up and get after it already.

25. Avengers: Endgame

The Bottom Line: 60% of the time it works... Every time.

To a degree, Avengers: Endgame as a standalone film is just fine, and nothing more. On its own two feet, the film is a loving, tender sendoff for the original gang of Earth's Mightiest Heroes which caters to payoff more than organic storytelling, but to be fair the film does its absolute best at delivering on fan service, and to that degree that's literally all the film amounts to: Extended fan service. Therefore, on the opposite scale of criticism, Endgame (though an inevitably flawed film) deserves every shred of extra credit, because here's the reality, whether ignorant comic-book fanboy or pretentious cinema-snob: The accomplishments of the Marvel Cinematic Universe have literally never been done before in the history of cinema. Ever.

24. Little Woods (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Everyone is cold and broke, and everything is terrible: The Movie! 

Sisters Ollie (Tessa Thompson) and Deb (Lily James) live in North Dakota right on the Canadian border that they’re not allowed to cross (nice little nod to Trump-America no doubt). Their mother has just recently passed (very sad), and they’re about to lose their mothers’ house; the only standing establishment which holds their past memories and their potential future (PLOT). Everything in this movie is a hot mess, everyone is broke, and there is seemingly no hope for two young women living in these harsh American times. Writer-director Nia DaCosta wrings these gals dry to make a point and it’s a damn good thing that Thompson and James are as strong actresses as they are, because without them, this heartbreaking tale would only be hollow.

23. One Cut of the Dead (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Easily the most clever zombie movie since Shaun of the Dead

In the same year where American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch divided audiences with The Dead Don’t Die; a muddling zom-com too tongue-in-cheek for its own good, Japanese writer-director *checks notes* Shin’ichirô Ueda has delivered (in the U.S.) one of the most unique zombie movies perhaps ever made. One Cut of the Dead initially succeeds due to its unique premise: A cast and crew of filmmakers creating a zombie movie are attacked by actual zombies. The concept alone is intriguing enough to warrant a watch for any undead-heads out there, but once the film really gets going, it becomes much more than it teases.

22. Dragged Across Concrete (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Racism! AKA: Bad people do bad things, and then bad things happen

Walking into 2018’s Dragged Across Concrete means accepting Craig Zahler’s inevitable portrayal of the despicable white male for a purpose, and it may have taken three films but with Concrete, Zahler may have finally made that purpose count. Granted this is also the first of his three films where the blatant racism, sexism and atrocity of American human behavior are actual factors in Zahler’s script, rather than a debatable accent to show how gritty the world is. Scored like an 80s cop drama, Concrete is blunt, violent and aggressive. The fact that Zahler’s hero of the film (a film heavily anchored by racism) is Mel f---ing Gibson already speaks volumes, and it’s only that much more effective that his leading man Brett Ridgeman as well his partner Anthony Lurasetti (Vince Vaughn) are as sympathetic as they are disgraceful.

21. The Art of Self-Defense

The Bottom Line: JUSTICE FOR WEINER DOGS

For about half the time, Art of Self-Defense is a genuinely funny film in terms of being a satire on toxic masculinity; a comical exploitation of macho dudes who angrily masturbate to nudie magazines, thrash to heavy metal, and assert dominance by exerting how tough they are. Sticking someone as meek and mellow as Jesse Eisenberg in a karate dojo against the likes of such male stereotypes makes for quality contrast in the comedy formula. The second half of the film however is where the satire goes dark. From the ramifications of Casey’s dog being a dachshund rather than a German Shepherd down to the lack of ultimate respect for the only female in the dojo, the line between funny and frightening grows thinner as the film punches along; the fuse of masculinity threatening to burn down Casey’s entire humanity, as he uncovers the terrible truths behind the dark secrets of what’s really going on during the karate night class.

20. Captain Marvel

The Bottom Line: Brie Larson is a saucy one

If Wonder Woman opened the door for dominant women in comic book movies, Captain Marvel kicks the doors down. It's more than just an important film for women, it's also one of the best entries of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In a post Infinity War world, with all the dramatics of Thanos, 60+ characters from nearly 20 movies, and so much plot-heavy action that can't be appreciated unless one has watched those nearly 20 movies, it's nice to see a picture slow things down and take the time to develop the seemingly insignificant pieces which make up a standalone and much more significant picture. Much like Black Panther, Captain Marvel stands very much so on its own two feet without the tie-ins to any of the Infinity-nonsense, and YET it acts very much so as a prequel to The Avengers (Hello again, Clark Gregg!), while serving enough Tesseract-Easter-Eggs to keep fans giddy. And save for the astronomical chemistry between Larson and Sam Jackson, the 90s references are killer. One may not realize they needed a scene where Brie Larson is hurling a Space Invaders pinball machine at a group of aliens, staged to No Doubt's "Just A Girl" in their life, but it's promised to be one of the most genuinely uplifting moments ever in a comic book movie, fitting snug right into the lifestyle of Peter Quill doing disco moves to Redbone's "Come And Get Your Love."

19. An Elephant Sitting Still (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Sad Pandas - A quiet, bleak, four-hour Chinese film that has something to say about saying nothing at all

At nearly four hours long and deliberately paced, Elephant is not at all for the impatient, rather designed for the diligent; those seeking the infectious melancholy that plagues our very existence. Not that the film acts merely as a display for depression, but taking place over the course of one chilly day in the desolate wasteland of Jingxing County, Hebei, Elephant Sitting Still is a humorless, heavy piece that is designed to emotionally drain its dark atmosphere. Following four or more characters whose fractured lives are intertwined by their eventual desire to escape to the city of Manzhouli, to witness a fabled elephant, Bo Hu’s film is a narratively simplistic yet emotionally complex commentary on a broken society clinging to the intimate dreams of a better world. 

18. Booksmart

The Bottom Line: Like John Hughes and Judd Appatow had a baby

Not since Superbad have two high school BFFs Molly (Beanie Feldstein) and Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) been portrayed as raunchy as they are righteous. Despite the film being as filthy as it is funny, Booksmart is also a naturally progressive film with a deep heart to wear on its sleeve, and Olivia Wilde captures an astronomically rich character development that hasn’t been seen since the likes of John Hughes. There’s an earnestness to Wilde’s direction in her ability to flip-flop audience expectations on high school stereotypes; the popular bitches are actually profoundly broken, the rockstar dudes are really dorks; most of the characters have ulterior motive, a second agenda, and nearly everyone is vulnerable. The film is incredibly genuine but make no mistake, Booksmart is a comedy first. I mean, Billie Lourd is so good as the interrupting comic relief, that Wilde wrote MORE SCENES FOR HER. Even when the film reaches its most dramatic heights, there’s an extended stop-motion animated sequence where characters become Barbie dolls after a bad acid trip. If Booksmart is not the best, then at least it's the funniest comedy of 2019.

17. Us

The Bottom Line: It's no Get Out, but proof that Peele is crafty AF

Jordan Peele is a master of his craft, delivering one of the most unique horror films of 2019. From the personal parallels as to who we truly are in the lower level of ourselves; the true scum of the human race, down to the clear comparisons on how divided America is as a country; between every terrifying Easter Egg; everything from the opening carnival down to the menacing rabbits, the pop culture references, and the number eleven, Us delivers an overwhelming amount to unpack, but the film also very slowly stumbles into some giant twists, that aren’t unlike the second-tier works of M. Night Shyamalan. Once the plot twists are literally told to the audience in raspy-voice exposition by Lupita Nyong’o’s double, deemed “Red” (in an Academy-Award-worthy performance no doubt), the film feels a little like air being let out of a balloon, because all the genuine mystery and suspense is replaced with over-explained plot, which is fine and all, but also disappointing in not allowing viewers to unpack deeper theories to the film’s meaning for themselves. Still. there’s no shade to be thrown at Us, being that it will likely end up becoming one of the more revisited films of 2019 based on its layers of cleverness alone.

16. The Last Black Man In San Fransisco

The Bottom Line: A picturesque portrait of painting a pretty house, but also about other important things like home being where the heart is, and friendship, and retaining value in a crumbling society, and other precious things

LBM doesn't just contain one of the most invigorating soundtracks of 2019. The film isn’t just a bright light of genuine humanity peeking through an old, empty house of dying cinema (which could perhaps be A24’s entire pitch), it’s also a poignant picture with layers of sincere significance. The film is a beautiful, heartbreaking ode to the city of San Fran, and director Joe Talbot nails every tone he’s going for within the film’s opening five minutes. The plot of the film is simple yet sincere; Young man Jimmie attempts to maintain and dreams to vacate an old house his grandfather built in the 1940s, as his best friend Monty challenges his worldviews. Yes, this is a film about gentrification as a representation of legacy, but it’s what Talbot does with his characters and how he establishes the broken world they live in through Jimmie and Monty’s eyes which creates a lasting impact.

15. Little Women

The Bottom Line: A Goddamn Delight

This is the Little Women adaptation to end all Little Women adaptations. We’ve peaked. There will be no need to ever tell this story on film ever again. Greta Gerwig is a saint. Her version of Louisa May Alcott’s timeless coming of age novella is not only the most charming and cheerful movie of 2019, but it is such without being an overly sappy, disgustingly warm and fuzzy picture, rather a genuinely heartfelt and inspired story. The story goes against expectation, and it’s literally explained to the audience in the form of Saoirse Ronan rejecting female stereotypes to an old boomer. Greta has reshaped Alcott’s traditional themes and classic structure to storytelling for a modern audience and somehow it doesn’t only work, it’s actually an improvement. This thing is so f---ing toasty it’s like being wrapped up in a goddamn Christmas miracle. 

14. Pain and Glory

The Bottom Line: Gay, Sad, Spanish Antonio Banderas: The Movie!

Watching writer-director Pedro Almodóvar’s Pain and Glory is like flipping through the personal diary of an aged man filled with lost dreams and wallowing regret. It’s a film of such personal reflection and inner intimacy, that it often feels like a story that we as an audience should not be stepping into, and yet Almodóvar invites us into the mind of his leading man Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas) with such endearment that it’s nearly impossible to walk away without feeling moved, despite the film’s lack of legitimate plot. Almodóvar accomplishes an astronomical feat in capturing the remorse of an elder man who’s lived a broken but beautiful upbringing, established a career for himself, and created a well known identity to the public, and yet silently suffers from depression. Ultimately the film is a reminder that Banderas is utterly remarkable, and that Almodóvar is giving the ultimate clap back for anyone who would have any doubts that he could make a sad, somber, two-hour Spanish movie about sad Antonio Banderas coming to terms with his homosexuality and loneliness, which inadvertently turns Antonio Banderas into one of the most emotionally compelling characters of 2019.

13. Climax (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Perhaps the best anti-drug campaign since D.A.R.E. launched.

Real talk, Climax is terrifying. By trapping over twenty horny characters in a dancing warehouse together, during a blizzard, after drinking a punch bowl laced with LSD no less, acclaimed Argentinian filmmaker Gaspar Noé creates an absolute nightmare inducing acid trip, allowing every electric element to come together in horrifying rhythm as we helplessly watch these poor bastards embark upon a single night swallowed in an apocalyptic darkness which feels like the end times. Climax is a neon monster of breathtaking cinematic ecstasy and Noé’s camera work is utterly insane, from the gliding camera all the way through the extended one-take shots in the swooping, soaring, psychedelic cinematography. There’s a point where the camera doesn’t break for nearly 40 minutes and you can feel the sensation in your bones. And that pulsating soundtrack? An all-time banger.

12. High Life (2019 US Release)

The Bottom Line: Life is an existential void, and so is this movie, and yes, that’s the point.

In the age of the endless blockbuster, unique art films like High Life come along maybe two or three times a year. That said, as captivating the film is, High Life also suffers from dwelling in a very slow-burned pretentious state of ambiguity. And yet, pretentious ambiguity is kinda the point here. Renowned French filmmaker Clair Denis uses genuine science fiction as a placeholder for the exploration (and destruction) of humanity. Following a group of prisoners on death row being used for reproduction experimentation, for Denis to stage an entire film in one remote space station among the stars (with a crew on a suicide mission traveling towards a black hole for research nonetheless), is to say the least a bold concept, if not an entirely original one. High Life is a bleak and aggressively hostile film, creating unbearable (and very sexual) tension in an extremely claustrophobic setting. Denis marries science fiction and human reproduction in horrifying ways that cannot be unseen (the term "fuck box" might linger long after the credits roll), but she remains philosophically human with her protagonist in Robert Pattinson. Pats proved with Good Time that he’s among one of the better actors of his generation, and although his performance is far more dialed back this round, High Life is Pattinson’s movie from beginning to finish.

11. Joker

The Bottom Line: Whether the film is good or bad is irrelevant. It’s just refreshing to see a comic book movie treat its audience like adults.  

Already hailed as a masterpiece by some, and loathed as a lifeless waste by others, Joker is a polarizing enigma separating itself from nearly any other comic book movie ever made. Not since Ang Lee’s Hulk has a film taken such an ambitious stab at masquerading a comic book movie as an art house film. Even stranger is the idea that this is coming from the guy that directed the Hangover movies. Of course it’s flawed with rushed plot developments, over the top drama, and a hollow narrative, but Joker is so goddamned effective as a character study before ever being a comic book movie that whether or not that notion rubs people the right way, it makes for one of the most unique concepts ever conceived for a comic to film adaptation. Like a joke in itself, the film fools audiences into thinking they’re watching a comic book movie when it’s indubitably a piece about the decline of mental health, politics and a rebellion against society; a depiction of the death of one’s morality, rather than the birth of a super-villain. Sounds tedious and un-Joker like, but at least it’s unafraid to be what it’s not. If anything, anything at all, Joker is one of the best performances Joaquin Phoenix has ever done.

10. The Farewell

The Bottom Line: My Big, Sad, Chinese Wedding

On the surface, Lulu Wang’s The Farewell is a film about literally saying goodbye; the depiction of a family gathering for the same great cause: To prepare for the end of a loved one’s life. On this surface, The Farewell is not only sobering, but sympathetic; a piece that we as viewers can connect with on a deeper, relatable level. But The Farewell is about more than a goodbye, as it’s also represented by a bold faced lie; a lie not only based on a true story, but based on ancient Chinese tradition in refraining from disclosing terminal illness to the elderly once becoming diagnosed. By staging an arranged wedding for the cousin of protagonist Billi (Awkwafina), the family gathers in China for hijinx to ensue as a means to spend one last hoo-rah with granny Nai Nai before she kicks the bucket. It’s like My Big Fat Greek Wedding with Chinese people, only a LOT more depressing. So much of the runtime is spent sitting down with these characters doing nothing at all, and yet that’s exactly what makes us want to spend time with them. Sure there is something of a cynical presence to the grave secret kept by the central family, the morality of the situation constantly questioned by Billi, but through Billi's eyes, what begins as a stubborn demand for speaking truth becomes a personal understanding for the silence of a lie.

9. Marriage Story

The Bottom Line: The Greatest Divorce Movie Ever Made
AKA: Two attractive people legally yell at each other for two hours, and Adam Driver sings a song

With Marriage Story, indie darling Noah Baumbach doesn’t just tear into the souls of his two leads; he emotionally drains them, like throwing two actors into a riveting stage performance, resulting in a film that is perhaps the peak of the man’s career. From the beginning love letters of warm, intimate confession between Charlie (Adam Driver) and Nicole (Scarlett Johansson), Marriage Story takes an immediately cold left turn within the opening minutes, and heads down the hills of divorce fast, showing not just how financially threatening, but how emotionally devastating the entire process becomes. Baumbach harnesses an unimaginable energy from the two leads like a tennis match on fire. Every interaction between Charlie and Nicole crackles with intimate rage, and Noah channels their aggression even down to the way they silently stare into each other’s souls. The big fight in the third act of the film is not only a bone chilling, Oscar-worthy climax for the two lead actors; It is also the very essence of toxic relationships, and a visual representation as to why some marriages are truly better off coming to end. This was never a story about the repercussions of a marriage, but the evaluation of a relationship doomed to fail.

8. Uncut Gems

The Bottom Line: Adam Sandler plays a Jewish, cartoon conman, the Safdie brothers shout a self obsessed commentary on greed, and it truly makes for one of the best films of 2019

Filmmaking brothers Benny and Josh Safdie have pulled off an astronomical feat: They have channeled the chaotic energy of Adam Sandler, bottled it up, and have unleashed it upon a story that legitimately demands his insanity. Where Paul Thomas Anderson was able to tame Sandler’s quiet rage in Punch Drunk Love, the Safdie brothers let the man run rampant with unpredictable destruction in Uncut Gems, and it makes for one of the greatest performances of Sand-man’s career. As the Safdies did so well with Robby Patts in their last film Good Time, they mold the image of a regular actor and create an unrecognizable sleaze of a man. Always sporting snazzy sunglasses, flashy diamond earrings, and a goatee, Sandler comically disguises his leading man as a New York con artist, not just in the way he dresses, but even the way he rambles on and goes about his erratic mannerisms. Like the film itself, he slips into complete unpredictability, leaving even the biggest risks at the hand of a bitter end. Like a coked up brother of Good Time, Gems is a paranoid thriller that feels aggressively New York and never lets up.

7. Ad Astra

The Bottom Line: The most Freudian AF space film on the planet

For a film that hurls through the deep reaches of our gargantuan solar system, Ad Astra never once leaves the inner depths of its leading man, Brad Pitt’s Roy McBride. There’s a poetic tragedy in Roy’s emotional detachment from humanity, an empty soul so lost that he can no longer find empathetic connection on his own planet. Roy operates on autopilot, stripped of remorse no matter how devastating his situations become, staying calm even among death around him. Because of Roy’s lack of humanity, the grandeur of space while stunning feels disconnected. The visuals are breathtaking, from the opening explosion of a space tower and Roy’s plummet to earth, down to a car chase on the moon filled with rockets and gunfire, yet through Roy’s perspective there is no gravity to any of the weight of devastation. Were the film not already enough of a commentary on identity, the plot also follows Roy on a personal quest to find his long lost father. From beginning to end, Gray lingers the camera on Roy with up-close shots of Pitt’s silences, yet always ready to pull the lens back to reveal the behemoth of space like peering through the curtains of a grand epic among the stars. We constantly dwell in the film’s ominous mood rather than the magnificent plot, and with the heavily philosophic themes to boot, the film often feels like a cold cousin of 2001: A Space Odyssey.  

6. Portrait of a Lady on Fire

The Bottom Line: Call Me By Your Flame - The horniest French film about two lesbians since Blue is the Warmest Color

Every frame of Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire is dripping with prestigious proficiency and erotic emotion, and in doing so while orbiting the themes of observing beauty and falling in love with it, leaving behind one of the most elegantly self aware pieces about art ever captured on film. It’s easy to see why Portrait could be dubbed as ‘artsy-fartsy’ due to just how deeply the film is rooted in actual art, both in the literal sense and in the cinema-going “arthouse” sense, but it’s also a film cemented in examination. The plot literally revolves around a woman who is required to observe a subject and paint her from memory into an art piece. the very art of viewing that moviegoers partake in as they absorb Sciamma's tale is just as easy to fall madly love in with as what the picture is trying to say about craft. Portrait succeeds at being all forms of an artistic piece of cinema because it knows that it is. Sciamma peppers in endless dialogues that feel ripped from classic novels, with visuals that move with the elegance of an ambiguous painting. Marianne is haunted by apparitions of Héloïse in a wedding gown, and not by accident. Even The color scheme between the two women, stunning blond and furious brunette; the frumpy dresses, peacefully olive and fiery red, are intertwined with visual craft. The film endlessly and unabashedly feels like art because it’s trying to be art in nearly every sense.

5. Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood 

The Bottom Line: Tarantino's most significant work yet

AKA: Dirty F---in' Hippies - A Heartwarming Tale Between Two Men and a Dog

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood might be declared by some as the Hail Caesar! of Quentin Tarantino’s career if only for the notorious director’s gushing love letter to a bygone era of Hollywood filmmaking (and seemingly not much else), but the film is actually a warm display of delayed gratification, as it righteously delivers on not just the long awaited shock and violence that QT fans have come to adore, but a surprisingly intimate reflection on life through cinema, making this Quentin’s most personal, poignant and perhaps most well produced film to date. Comparisons will be quick to call Hollywood one of Tarantino’s bottom tier films, and on the surface understandably so. Not only is the run time an enduring 161 long minutes, but the film is also rather self righteous of the film industry and of past Hollywood absorbed through the lens of a six-year-old Quentin Tarantino; a golden era of cowboy heroes on television when the world was still innocent and black & white; a time just before a radical darkness violently shook Hollywood and shifted the tone of cinema all across America. The pitch may sound like a humdrum history lesson, but as we’ve learned, facts told by Tarantino are nothing more than pulp fiction.

4. The Irishman

The Bottom Line: Once Upon A Time In The Mob

The Irishman is Martin Scorsese’s swan song to gangster films, and it is not just one of the best mob movies ever made, but one of the most sobering reflections of betrayal and melancholy ever documented on film. Though underwhelming in appearance, the flick is a significant slow burn with payoff not in action, but in remorse. An ode to meat truck driver turned mobster Frank Sheeran, as well as an adaptation of the non-fiction book, I Heard You Paint Houses, the retelling of Sheeran’s life, The Irishman may be met with responses such as “It’s no Goodfellas,” but despite this being a Scorsese-De Niro mob movie, it should not be treated like Goodfellas. It’s a gangster movie filled with deception and murder, but this is also a quiet, somber picture that’s fueled by melancholic nostalgia. If anything The Irishman feels like a grand finale of sorts for Scorsese himself. By reuniting with Robert De Niro, bringing Joe Pesci out of retirement, and introducing Al Pacino to his resume, Scorsese has delivered his own send-off to not just legendary actors such as these, but to the entire genre of gangster films. Sure this won’t be the last we see of a mob movie, but shot with such endearing finality, and at a meaty 209 minutes, the weight of The Irishman alone feels like the end of an era, and to a degree, this film is the last of its kind.

3. Parasite

The Bottom Line: Bong-Joon Ho = Korean Shakespeare

Just as The Host is a family film dressed up as a monster movie, Snowpiercer a classist commentary disguised as a violent action film, and Okja baked with oppressing PETA themes still ultimately married to the ‘adventure’ genre, Parasite is perhaps acclaimed director Bong Joon-ho’s most personal and pivotal statement to date, his latest film masquerading as a black comedy... which of course evolves into something else entirely. Like the vile monster from The Host, Bong’s film consistently mutates, shape-shifting multiple genres and tones throughout the film’s 132 min. runtime. By paralleling two completely different families, Parasite utilizes every character, plot point and mood to astronomically shift audience expectation in polar opposite directions, filling in the gaps of a subconscious desire for genre entitlement. Parasite is something of a response to comparison in itself; its low vs. high class characters being completely gray representations of a painfully black-and-white world; his bleak tone tearing down the walls of expectation. The plot is filled with secrets and unravels like an elaborately packaged gift; a poor family slowly masquerading as various assistants to a rich family; its pacing not only harmless, but hilarious. Of course it’s once the seemingly irrelevant plot points counteract that the entire film becomes a much larger statement beyond its classist morale. Naturally a film as infectious as Parasite can only be described so vaguely to those who have not experienced its for themselves without giving any of the good stuff away, since the film’s most well kept secrets are not in the ever-changing plot, but in the unfolding of various mood and tone that shape-shift without the audience even aware of it happening.

2. Midsommar

The Bottom Line: A perverse, and cautionary tale about not trusting white people, especially if they’re wearing all white

Like a nightmarish and insanely bizarre fairytale (or as director Ari Aster dubs “Wizard of Oz for perverts”) Midsommar is a literally drug-induced fever dream of a folk horror movie like none of its kind. Granted the bare bones of the film could be host to a (very) soft reboot of the 1973 Wicker Man, in a sense Midsommar breaks every traditional rule of horror films in ways that have never been done before. For starters, the film is shot almost entirely in the broad daylight, leaving all of its gruesome and disturbing terror to occur in the great outdoors (even the goddamn sunshine feels evil). Secondly, the film not only clocks in at more than two and a half hours long, but makes the audience patiently wait through gruesome periods of anticipation before the payoffs. Finally, the film goes for such deep levels of uncomfortably off-putting  mood, that it dares audiences to either cringe in terror or erupt with laughter, simply because there are no other human reactions to some of the bananas-ass shit that goes on in this picture. And YET, Aster has stated time and again that Midsommar is simply a breakup movie (and a bold choice to explore on a first date).   Midsommar is a dark, unapologetic descent into madness with no resisting of its wickedness; no conflict against its evil. It’s got metaphors aplenty, but it’s simply a sick and vile film at its core, and for that folks will hate it. Others will devour it.

1. The Lighthouse

The Bottom Line: A cinematic nugget of gold in a coal mine of modern contemporary filmmaking, like nearly nothing else of its kind.

By shooting a period piece in 19:1 boxed ratio, on grainy black & white 35mm film, Robert Eggers has presented a modern day horror masterpiece; one which harks back to not just the forgotten era of 17th century sailors, but beyond the pioneers of film, enveloping an entire world of authentic and frightening horrors at sea with only two deranged characters at the helm of its ship. Every frame of The Lighthouse is an enigma of inspired madness that’s every bit as poetic as the works of Herman Melville and as strange as the tall tales of H.P. Lovecraft. Brothers Robert and Max Eggers pepper their steamboat of a screenplay with sailor talk, crashing with salty dialect and crooked slang which feels ripped from the pages of pirate folklore. They create a strange and psychological horror that crawls under the skins of the audiences in ways that most films dare not dream of. With just two characters in one remote location The Lighthouse sometimes feels more watching a Hemmingway inspired stage play, than a classic black & white film, yet always challenging audience expectation. Succumbing to a twisted spiraling plot of madness; in drunkenly blurring the line between reality and fantasy, Eggers immerses his audiences like a Greek myth, under waves of feverish nightmares, resulting in one of the most psychologically dark and hypnotically bizarre films ever made.

And that's a wrap, folks.
Drink up. Here's to 2020.