The Best Movies Of 2019

The Irishman. Image courtesy of Netflix.

It was a pretty strong year overall for movies. Once again, Netflix proved that it's capable of bankrolling some of the best filmmaking out there - and let's hope that it will continue to provide theatrical releases to at least some of its high profile movies.

Some of the year's best films were comeback stories (my number 3 of the year), while others acted as career summations (my top three). More so than any other recent year in memory, my top 10 was crowded with great international films - only four films from the United States cracked that list.

There are still, unfortunately, a handful of highly acclaimed movies that I've yet to see. For example, Celine Sciamma's "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," which has landed on more top 10s than I can count, doesn't spread out until mid-February.

A few others I missed include Nadav Lapid's "Synonyms," Edward Norton's "Motherless Brooklyn," Carlos Reygadas's "Our Time," Melina Matsoukas's "Queen and Slim," Jessica Hausner's "Little Joe," Ira Sachs's "Frankie" and Sheng Qiu's "Suburban Birds."

Without further adieu, my best of the year:

Ten Runners Up
20. Non-Fiction (Olivier Assayas)... Reviewed here.
19. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (Marielle Heller)... Reviewed here.
18. Ad Astra (James Gray)... Reviewed here.
17. Uncut Gems (Joshua and Benny Safdie)... Reviewed here.
16. Us (Jordan Peele)... Reviewed here.
15. Atlantics (Mati Diop)... Reviewed here.
14. The Last Black Man in San Francisco (Joe Talbot)... Reviewed here.
13. 1917 (Sam Mendes)... Reviewed here.
12. The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers)... Reviewed here.
11. Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story (Martin Scorsese)... Reviewed here.

Top Ten
10. Little Women (Greta Gerwig)... Reviewed here.
  9. Ash is Purest White (Jia Zhangke)... Reviewed here.
  8. Birds of Passage (Ciro Guerra and Cristina Gallego)... Reviewed here.
  7. Transit (Christian Petzold)... Reviewed here.
  6. Parasite (Bong Joon Ho)... Reviewed here.
  5. Long Day's Journey Into Night (Bi Gan)... Reviewed here.
  4. Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach)... Reviewed here.
  3. Pain and Glory (Pedro Almodovar)... Reviewed here.
  2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (Quentin Tarantino)... Reviewed here.
  1. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese)... Reviewed here.

Review: The Two Popes

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Fernando Meiralles's "The Two Popes" is the Pope Francis origin story you never knew you needed. Depicting one of the most pivotal moments in the Catholic Church's history, the picture is an impressive character piece featuring two examples of exemplary acting - Jonathan Pryce as Pope Francis and Anthony Hopkins as Pope Benedict, previously known as Cardinal Ratzinger.

The film opens with the death of Pope John Paul II, a consequential but extremely conservative pope who often waded into what could best be described in the United States as "culture wars." Ratzinger, a German cardinal who wanted to take over as the church's leader, seems to be an obvious choice to follow John Paul II. He's also very conservative and is dedicated to the church's dogma.

Benedict is chosen as the next pope, but only after several votes, during which Cardinal Bergoglio (Pope Francis) draws a surprising number of votes. When Pope Francis comes to visit Benedict at his Italian summer getaway home, he arrives with the intention of retiring. As he tells Benedict, who feels attacked by his visitor, he no longer agrees with the church's mission. It has, he says, lost touch with an ever-changing world, and become more insular.

Bergoglio also feels uncomfortable with the manner in which the church has addressed its scandal involving pedophile priests. Once again, Benedict feels as if the criticism is a personal attack. But once the two men spend time together and get to know each other, Benedict will learn that Bergoglio has his own secrets and feels shame about an incident from his past in Argentina in the 1970s when a coup took over the government.

Meiralles's film takes a "My Dinner with Andre" approach to the material - although the two popes move freely about, rather than being stationed at a table. But the concept is built around the conversation between two men - in this case, two who wield great power. Their discussion focuses primarily on how to use that power - to protect the institution of the church or to reform it and take more compassionate views toward issues about which the church had previously been strict.

Hopkins is reliably great here, and his stature and sense of gravitas is put to great use. However, it's Pryce who has the meatier role, and he gives one of his best performances to date. Pope Francis has been lauded by many as a man of determination, but here he's also portrayed as a man who struggles - with his duty, his past and the role he should play in the church. "The Two Popes" is thoughtful, often funny and well acted - and also the best film from Meiralles, who burst onto the scene in 2003 with the incredible "City of God," in some time.

Review: Little Women

Image courtesy of Columbia Pictures.

Making a classic story that's been told many times before feel fresh again is something of a feat, but that's exactly what director Greta Gerwig does with her second feature - a buoyant, generous retelling of Louisa May Alcott's beloved 1868 novel "Little Women."

Although I was immediately sucked into the film, it took me a while to recognize why some reviewers have described the picture as audacious. Having not reviewed the material - either through reading it or watching the 1994 film version of the story - for many years, it didn't occur to me until after having watched Gerwig's picture that her version begins more than halfway through the novel, reframing the story so that its focus is on Jo March's (Saoirse Ronan) struggle to tell her own stories as a novelist in her own way.

Gerwig has also chosen to tell the story in her own way with two separate timelines via flashbacks, during which each period of time has its own palette - the past has a rosy visual hue, while the present is more drained of color. The film also has what must be one of the best ensembles I've seen in some time - the excellent Ronan is joined by Emma Watson (as Meg March), Florence Pugh (as Amy March), Eliza Scanlen (as younger sister Beth), Meryl Streep (as the fussy Aunt March), Laura Dern (as Marmee March), Timothee Chalamet (as multi-sister love interest Laurie), Chris Cooper (as warmhearted Mr. Laurence), Tracy Letts (representing the patriarch as a publisher who rolls his eyes at Jo's writing endeavors), Bob Odenkirk (as Father March) and Louis Garrel (as Friedrich Bhaer).

Much has been written about women's role in positions of power in Hollywood in recent years, and it's a well known fact that a majority of filmmakers in the studio system are men. Gerwig made a stunning debut a few years back with the wonderful "Lady Bird," which quickly added her to a short list of women who make high profile films and earn awards for them. That list also includes Sofia Coppola and Kathryn Bigelow.

So, it's fitting that Gerwig's second feature as a director finds her telling a story - albeit a classic one refitted for a modern take - about a young woman who wants to be a storyteller and must find her own voice in a world in which men think women shouldn't be doing such a thing. Ultimately, Gerwig's version of "Little Women" primarily focuses on two things: Jo's growth as an artist and the bond she shares with her sisters - Meg, the oldest sister; Amy, with whom Jo occasionally has a fraught relationship; and Beth, the baby of the family.

Gerwig doesn't drop the romantic elements of the novel - Meg struggles with her marriage to a man she loves, but who has little money, Jo has a blossoming romance with Bhaer and at least two of the sisters become somewhat entangled with the love-struck Laurie. And while the film ends with a character rushing to stop another at a train station - an often used cinematic trope - much of the film finds Jo rolling her eyes at the concept of women serving the sole purpose of being wives and mothers. When she finally decides to pursue romantic love, it's on her own terms.

Gerwig's "Little Women" is what I'd call a generous film. Each character is given the attention required to make them feel fully fleshed out - Bhaer gets slightly less than in the novel, but this is made up for in the film's final scenes - and there's a fair amount of warmth one can recognize that Gerwig has for the characters. Even the sour Aunt March is given the humanistic treatment in the hands of Gerwig and Streep, who portrays her as a dispenser of tough love, so that her nieces have better lives.

The film is an emotional one, but without overdoing it - take, for instance, a powerful use of matching shots when Jo in the past descends a staircase to find a group of people having breakfast at a table, and then Jo in the present descending that same staircase to find a different scene. "Little Women," much like "Lady Bird," is a deeply felt and personal film about the lives of women who are not interested in fulfilling roles assigned to them, but rather following their own imaginations and pursuing their own dreams. This is a lovely film.

Review: Uncut Gems

Image courtesy of A24.

Josh and Benny Safdie's gritty and haunting 2014 film "Heaven Knows What" followed the story of a drug addict's downward spiral, and their follow up, the somewhat controversial "Good Time," was a crime story about a guy whose life spiraled out of control for other reasons. They combine those storylines in their latest - "Uncut Gems" - which is also their best film to date.

In the picture, Adam Sandler gives a powerhouse performance as Howard Ratner, a New York City diamond dealer whose addiction of choice isn't drugs, but excessive gambling, and when we first meet him, he's already in deep to a number of shady characters, including his own cousin (portrayed by Eric Bogosian).

Howard's wife (Idina Menzel) hates him and his girlfriend, Julia (Julia Fox),  who's also a co-worker, has seemingly roaming eyes, despite the fact that Howard pays for the apartment in which she lives. Howard's business appears to attract a decent amount of clientele - for example, he strikes up a business relationship with basketball player Kevin Garnett (who, along with singer The Weeknd, is among several celebrities who play themselves in the film) - but he quickly squanders whatever he earns on high-risk gambles.

Much like the Safdies's previous films, "Uncut Gems" moves at a breakneck pace, has an often scuzzy vibe and features a fair amount of intense close ups and shaky camera work. And it's mostly held together by Sanders's extremely committed performance. Although the actor often gets associated with the silly comedies he cranks out - most recently, for Netflix - people forget how good he can be when given the right material - such as "Punch Drunk Love" or "The Meyerowitz Stories." Here, he's very good.

"Uncut Gems" is often a frustrating viewing experience - but I don't mean that as a criticism. Watching Howard make the same horrible mistakes one after the other, and then rinsing and repeating involves a certain amount of gluttony for punishment from viewers. But while the character is frustrating, the moviegoing experience is invigorating.

The Safdies's previous movie, "Good Time," was similarly well made and stylish, but I took some issues with the ways in which the filmmakers appeared to want to push buttons merely for the sake of pushing them. Thankfully, none of that is on display in "Uncut Gems," which is disturbing in its own right, but in a way that serves the story.

The film opens with a series of two odd shots and ends on another that is clearly meant to bookend the picture. The opening shot goes deep into a mine in Ethiopia where miners are digging out gems - one of which is the opal diamond with which Garnett becomes obsessed and lands Howard into trouble.

The next shot, oddly enough, is the interior of Howard's rectum as he gets a colonoscopy. This may sound like an odd juxtaposition, but I don't think it's without purpose. Howard's obsessions run deep and can't be separated from the person they control. "Uncut Gems" is a frantic and inventive crime and addiction drama that features one of the year's most memorable performances. Give yourself over to it and it'll probably leave you feeling exhausted.

Review: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Image courtesy of Walt Disney Pictures.

There are some criticisms of "Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker," the last in the nine-part series of blockbuster films, with which I can, unfortunately, agree. There are also some complaints I've heard with which I don't exactly concur. For starters, I agree with the majority opinion that this third film in the latest "Star Wars" trilogy, which finds J.J. Abrams back in the director's seat after Rian Johnson's more ambitious and much better "The Last Jedi," is the weakest.

On the other hand, I don't necessarily subscribe to the opinion that it's weak overall. There are some flaws - including a plot twist involving Rey's (Daisy Ridley) birthright and the reintroduction of a major character from the original series (and no, I'm not talking about Billy Dee Williams' return as Lando Calrissian, which is, to put it mildly, delightful) - and the entire film often feels like a compilation of the greatest hits of "Star Wars" slapped together as a movie to pay the ultimate fan service to those who love the series. In other words, it lacks in originality.

That being said, it's still a pretty fun film filled with some great moments - a terrific duel between Rey and primary villain Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) on a crashed Empire vessel floating on water - and there's a nice chemistry between Ridley and Driver that almost makes up for the fact that so many other characters - Oscar Isaac's Poe, John Boyega's Finn and pretty much everyone else - get the short end of the characterization stick. It's also odd that Keri Russell is added to the cast, but we never see her face, although Richard E. Grant's addition as a snippy general is pretty fun.

The "Star Wars" fan base has become somewhat fractured and "The Rise of Skywalker" is proof of it. Abrams makes the mistake of trying to please everyone - utilizing time-honored cliches of the series, featuring lots of outer space battles and erasing some of the concepts of Johnson's film - and as a result might have not exactly pleased anyone. Then again, the film bids farewell to some iconic characters - what else could have happened considering the death of Carrie Fisher a few years back? - and the final scene of the movie hits the right emotional notes.

The first line on the picture's opening scrawl says "The dead speak!," and in the case of this film, there are one too many resurrections. One of the primary villains from the original "Star Wars" movie returns with a not-particularly convincing explanation, a beloved figure is believed to have died during one moment in the film only to have him reappear a few moments later, a character killed at the beginning of this new series returns in a semi-dream moment, another who sacrificed himself last time around pops up as a Jedi spirit, and even the lead character is thought to be dead at one moment, only to be brought back to life.

I know it sounds as if I primarily have complaints about the film - but that's not the case. "The Force Awakens" was a nostalgia trip, but a very well executed one, while "The Last Jedi" took the series in a different direction and presented the audience with a new view of Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill, who briefly reprises his role here).

"The Rise of Skywalker" isn't nearly as good as those two previous films in the series, but it's still an enjoyable blockbuster. It might not be the series finale you were looking for - to quote Obi Wan Kenobi - but it provides some closure to its characters and to an extent embodies the spirit of the series. It's more fun that not, despite some strange creative choices.

Review: A Hidden Life

Image courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Some have called "A Hidden Life" Terrence Malick's return to form and his best work since 2011's towering "The Tree of Life," which I recently named my favorite movie of the decade. It's true that "A Hidden Life" is the most focused and least free-form film by the director since that movie. It's better than "Knight of Cups," "Voyage of Time" and "Song to Song," and about comparable to "To the Wonder."

And yet, "A Hidden Life" doesn't rise to the level of the enigmatic filmmaker's best pictures. It's often visually breathtaking, from the gorgeous Austrian vistas Malick captures to the director's typical stylistic choice of a swirling camera, and more emotionally gratifying than some of his more recent, and less focused, works.

It's also more grounded in narrative, and based on an apparent true story - that of Franz Jagerstatter (August Diehl), an Austrian farmer who decided during World War II to become a conscientious objector because he couldn't swear an oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler. You can imagine how that went for him.

Franz lives on a farm with his three young children and wife, Fani (Valerie Pachner). They take part in a quiet, simple existence that involves a lot of hard work. Much of the early scenes involve Franz and Fani toiling away the days on their farm. One day, a plane is heard overhead, signaling intrusion from the outside world. Sure enough, word of war spreads and Franz's fellow villagers quickly begin spouting Nazi talking points, much to his dismay. His neighbors take a disliking to his refusal to give the Nazi salute and his criticisms of the fuhrer.

Malick's films are often period pieces - for instance "Days of Heaven," "Badlands," "The New World" and portions of "The Tree of Life" - and this isn't the first time he has tackled war - recall his great "The Thin Red Line." This is, however, the first time I can recall one of his films having an overtly political message. There are moments during which Franz speaks of his anguish at the troubled state of the world, and much of what he fears feels similar today, especially his fellow villagers' hatred for foreigners and immigrants.

While "A Hidden Life" is often beautiful to look at and emotionally affecting, it's also much longer than it likely need be, frequently repetitive - we get patterns of shots of men wandering a prison yard, shots of their cells and then cut-backs to Franz and Fani's farm - and slightly vague in its characterization of some figures - for example, the actor Matthias Schoenaerts pops up in a cameo and I'm not exactly sure who he's supposed to be.

That being said, "A Hidden Life" is an improvement over the meandering "Song to Song" and the slightly better, but unfocused, "Knight of Cups." "The Tree of Life" was a high watermark for the filmmaker - and for 2010s filmmaking in general, in my opinion - and I've yet to see him regain the spark that made that film so fascinating and ambitious.

His latest picture is visually stunning, and the nature of its story makes for some powerful storytelling, but while it's good, it doesn't reach the heights that Malick proved he can reach earlier this decade. "A Hidden Life" is worth a look for viewers with some time - and patience - to spare.

Review: In Fabric

Image courtesy of A24.

Director Peter Strickland's latest giallo-inspired horror-comedy mashup, "In Fabric," is an example of a movie that's almost successful, but not quite. It's often visually stimulating, frequently funny in an absurdist type of way and stylish. Its performances - especially one from Marianne-Jean Baptiste - are good, and it's quite unlike anything else you'll likely see this year. Did I mention that it's about a haunted dress?

In the film, Baptiste plays Sheila, a bank teller with a not-so-enviable life. She's newly divorced and lives with an inattentive son, Vince (Jaygann Ayeh), and occasionally his irritating girlfriend, Gwen (Gwendoline Christie), who makes her hostility toward Sheila obvious. Sheila goes on dates with men she meets online, the first of whom is an insufferable bore, but the second of whom strikes her fancy.

Sheila also suffers through a ridiculous work environment, where she's frequently subjected to hilariously awful job reviews by two of her bosses, who criticize her handshake, which they say isn't "meaningful," as well as her taking bathroom breaks before lunch and waving at her boss's mistress. During one particularly absurd meeting, they ask her to describe her dreams.

Almost equally as ludicrous is her interaction with Miss Luckmore (Fatma Mohamed), who runs a mysterious clothing store where the haunted dress lies in wait. Miss Luckmore's sales pitches and descriptions of retail transactions are delivered in cryptic dialogue that is almost as preposterously silly - and purposefully - as that of Sheila's bosses.

Sheila learns that the dress's previous owner died mysteriously, and soon after she buys it she notices some odd things - for instance, a rash on her body when she wears the dress and the piece of couture's capacity for making washing machines violently explode. Much like Strickland's previous films, "In Fabric" utilizes stylistic tics that were common in 1970s giallo movies, and its soundtrack bears resemblance to European horror movie scores from that decade.

But much like Strickland's previous movies - the better "Berberian Sound Studio" and the sadomasochistic "The Duke of Burgundy" - the style only gets one so far. I liked "In Fabric" up to a point - namely, the midway point, when suddenly the narrative takes off in a new, and less interesting, direction. Halfway through the picture, we leave Sheila to follow the story of a dumpy mechanic and his girlfriend who come to possess the dress. What follows isn't as compelling - or stylistically entrancing - as the first half. The film ends on a note of anarchy, although most viewers will likely be left wondering what the hell exactly happened.

There's a fair amount to praise in the film - its direction, Baptiste's strong performance, the mordantly absurd humor, a sly anticapitalist critique, some gorgeous shots and haunting music. But its somewhat lackluster second half detracts from the overall film.

Those who seek out oddball horror movies will likely want to give "In Fabric" a go, but with the caveat that the picture isn't quite able to retain its momentum. Regardless, the film is unlike any other horror movie of recent memory - that is, other than Strickland's other bizarre giallo tributes.

Review: Richard Jewell

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Richard Jewell was a victim of circumstance - a security guard who discovered a bomb in a backpack in Atlanta's Centennial Park during the 1996 Olympic Games. Through a run of bad luck - and likely bad investigatory tactics - Jewell was railroaded and turned into the FBI's number one suspect. His name was sullied in the press, and as a result his life was - at least for a period of time - ruined.

There's enough material here to make for an interesting movie about an innocent man wrongly accused, which is why it's curious that director Clint Eastwood, whose films typically explore their subjects in more subtle fashion, felt the need to take a hit piece approach to a story about a man who was the victim of one himself.

While Eastwood had a pretty great run last decade with such films as "Mystic River," "Million Dollar Baby" and the "Flags of Our Fathers/Letters to Iwo Jima" combo, his work this decade is a little more uneven. "American Sniper" was a good one, although woefully misunderstood by both sides of the political aisle, and last year's "The Mule" was a movie that, based on its trailer, I expected to be some sort of MAGA fantasy, but it ended up being much subtler than that.

"Richard Jewell," on the other hand, somewhat justifies the vibe I picked up on during the trailer. Those who were left scratching their heads after Eastwood talked to an empty chair at the 2012 Republican convention will find plenty of evidence in his latest film to make a case that the director's political statements on film have become slightly more heavy-handed. In recent years, Eastwood has taken on one of two subjects in his films - aging men facing consequences ("The Mule" and "Gran Torino") and movies about men he believes to be heroes, but have been shortchanged (in his opinion). "American Sniper" fits into the latter category as well as "The 15:17 to Paris," which was his weakest film in years, and "Sully," which was good enough but, perhaps, overdramatized its hero's conflicts with the National Transportation Safety Board.

Regarding "Richard Jewell," it's curious that at this moment in history Eastwood would make a film that depicts the FBI and the media to be villains - on one occasion, this statement is reinforced with a large Confederate flag, which makes several appearances in this movie, in the background. The picture manages to get in a veiled shot at Bill Clinton, and the conception of the National Rifle Association as a possibly dangerous entity is somewhat sneered at during a conversation. Curiously enough, while the film focuses on Jewell's scapegoating, it never makes mention of the fact that the real Centennial Park bomber, Eric Rudolph, was a homophobic, right-wing terrorist.

One of the film's biggest problems is the portrayal of its characters. For starters, the film is apparently supposed to be in Jewell's corner, but the picture goes out of its way to somewhat condescendingly depict the man as a boob - a heavy-set security guard with a mall cop attitude toward authority who frequently does the dumbest thing imaginable while being caught up in perilous situations. Although it's played for humor,  Jewell seemingly cannot keep his mouth shut during a sequence when he is being interviewed by the FBI, and his lawyer, Watson Bryant (a very good Sam Rockwell), becomes increasingly frustrated. It's almost as if the film is taking the line that Jewell is too incompetent to have been involved in such a dastardly plot, whereas his actual innocence is probably enough for the purposes of the film.

Even worse is the depiction of Atlanta Journal Constitution reporter Kathy Scruggs (Olivia Wilde), whose rather pernicious portrayal here can't be challenged by the person upon whom it is based because she died in 2001. The film's most controversial - and seemingly unfounded - scene involves Scruggs offering to sleep with FBI agent Tom Shaw (Jon Hamm) in exchange for a scoop on a story. This sexist trope apparently has no basis in fact, and as a result the newspaper is challenging both Eastwood and Warner Bros. Both the brazen depiction of Scruggs and the sneering, villainous portrayal of Hamm's FBI man are both cartoonish, and the fault here does not appear to be with the actors, although one might question why Wilde would want to take such a role, based on how it's written.

I've never been particularly concerned about the historic record in most movies, unless it is distorted for egregious purposes. My thoughts are that if you want a history lesson, read a book, and that a film can take some liberties with historical events as long as they don't change the context of what happened in real life. "Richard Jewell" skirts that line several times - the depictions of other elements of the FBI's investigation have been questioned as well - and the result is a movie that is well enough acted, but somewhat questionable in motive and only moderately successful in delivery.

The case of Richard Jewell is, no doubt, a travesty - the man suffered for no reason, and yes, his investigators and the media were responsible for that. For those who might object to reviews focusing heavily on the political elements of the movie, that's something to take up with Eastwood and writer Billy Ray, who chose to tell this story in a particular way. "Richard Jewell" had potential to be a powerful movie about the wrong man being named a suspect in a case in which he was actually the hero. But it often comes across as a two-hour chant of "fake news" and a smear of the FBI.

This is a shame because there's some very good acting on display. Paul Walter Hauser, previously seen in "BlackKklansman" and "I, Tonya," gives an impressive lead performance as Jewell, who is well-intentioned but lacking in necessary survival instincts, while Kathy Bates is quite good as his mother and Rockwell steals all of the scenes he's in as Bryant. Eastwood's direction, as usual, is unfussy and impressive.

But the film's faults are too obvious, especially in how Jewell, his mother and his lawyer - considered the "good guys" - are depicted as sensible, decent people, while the journalists and FBI agents - considered the "bad guys" - all come across as frothing, loathsome people. Scenes in which Wilde's reporter gloats in the newsroom to wild applause from her co-workers is especially heavy handed. Eastwood has directed many films and many of them are very good. This one has some good ingredients, but they are overshadowed by its flaws.

The Best Of The Decade

The Tree of Life

It's difficult to narrow down a list of movies because you'll always feel as if you're shortchanging someone. As is the case with any given decade, there were a number of films that moved me for one reason or another in the 2010s.

Although film culture itself is in the midst of some depressing trends that I won't delve too far into here, movies have managed to remain an art form due to the efforts of those who care about images on a screen being more than just entertainment.

Television has, in some respects, caught up with cinema and garners the type of deeply considered criticism that was once merely reserved for movies. In fact, one TV show - David Lynch's "Twin Peaks: The Return" would crack my top 10 of the decade if I considered it a film - some do, and there's an argument to be made for that considering its cinematic essence, but let's face it... it debuted on TV. But some of the other best shows - "Mad Men," "Breaking Bad," "Mindhunter," Todd Hayne's HBO miniseries "Mildred Pierce" and "The Americans" - would also rank with some of the best films on this list.

As I'd mentioned before, you can't squeeze in everything, so to give a little credit where it's due to some movies I really liked, but couldn't find room for in my top 100 of the 2010s, I'd also highly recommend: Richard Linklater's "Before Midnight," Abbas Kiarostami's "Certified Copy," Jordan Peele's "Get Out," Lisa Cholodenko's "The Kids Are All Right," Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris," Aleksey German's "Hard To Be a God," George Miller's "Mad Max: Fury Road," Jia Zhangke's "Mountains May Depart," Nuri Bilge Ceylan's "Winter Sleep," Deniz Gamze Erguven's "Mustang," Noah Baumbach's "While We're Young" and "Frances Ha," Panos Cosmatos' "Mandy," Orson Welles' "The Other Side of the Wind," Pawel Pawlikowski's "Ida," Bong Joon Ho's "Snowpiercer," Guillermo del Toro's "The Shape of Water," Mike Mills' "20th Century Women," the new "Star Wars" trilogy, Ana Lily Amirpour's "A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night" and Wes Anderson's "The Grand Budapest Hotel."

It should also be noted that I haven't seen four of this year's highly acclaimed films yet: Terrence Malick's "A Hidden Life," Celine Sciamma's "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," the Safdie Brothers' "Uncut Gems" and Nadav Lapid's "Synonyms."

Below are my top 100 movies of the decade. These are not set in stone. In a year from now, I might consider my number 80 better than my number 20. Things change. For now, here's some semblance of an order:

Review: Dark Waters

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

"Dark Waters" is a David vs. Goliath tale of a corporate lawyer who turns against his own industry when he learns that a massive corporation - in this case, chemical company DuPont - was covering up egregious actions that have been harming the community in which he was raised. The film follows the formula set up by previous films that cover such stories, including "The Insider," "Erin Brockovich" and "Silkwood."

As such, it's the most unusual movie of director Todd Haynes' character. The filmmaker, who's among my favorite American directors of this century, typically makes movies about women that are set in the 1940s or 1950s - for example, the brilliant "Far from Heaven" and "Carol" or the HBO miniseries "Mildred Pierce" - or music films, such as "Velvet Goldmine" and the remarkable Bob Dylan phantasmagoria "I'm Not There."

In other words, "Dark Waters" feels like a standard, somewhat by-the-book, Hollywood drama about the little guy standing up to the corrupt corporation. That being said, it's a good example of that genre, mostly aided by a solid lead performance by Mark Ruffalo as Robert Bilott, a Cincinnati lawyer who defended chemical companies from lawsuits, but who is wooed to the other side in the late 1990s by a farmer who lost 190 cattle due to environmental pollution in Parkersburg, West Virginia, where Bilott grew up.

"Dark Waters" goes to show how draining - both financially and spiritually - a fight against a corporate giant can be. When the evidence comes to light that DuPont had been dumping C8 - also known as perfluorooctanoic acid - in Parkersburg's waterways during its production of teflon products, DuPont decides to drag out the lawsuits against the corporation in court in the hope of bankrupting its complainants, rather than halting production of its dangerous product or cleaning up its own mess.

Bilott is the type of character you'd expect in such a drama - an unassuming Brockovich-type of character who has a hang-dog appearance, but is ready to go for the jugular after he realizes how much harm the company he's fighting has caused to the people of his hometown. The film's second half also focuses on the physical and emotional toll the fight takes on Bilott and occasionally veers into paranoid thriller territory - as one complainant almost becomes the victim of arson, and Bilott becomes frightened to start his own car.

"Dark Waters" doesn't have the lush colors typically associated with a Haynes film - indeed, it has a somewhat drab appearance, but I don't mean that as an insult as this is clearly the aesthetic for which the film aims. The picture is also timely. While the battle over whether corporations are people - as some have argued - has been a years-long debate, there's no question that the release of "Dark Waters" comes at a time when regulations are dropping like flies for companies that have no interest in taking the public's safety into account.

Haynes' film is an angry one - and rightly so. The history of Hollywood movies has seen a steady stream of movies about lawyers or the everyman taking on a corporate entity or the corrupt powers that be - from "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" to "The Verdict" - but the current moment is a time at which such a concept feels more urgent. "Dark Waters" might not be the best example of its subgenre, but it's a well made, thoughtful and often riveting legal thriller. And when you consider one of Haynes' early successes - the great "Safe," which was about a woman suffering from psychosomatic stress as the result of her environment - it's not so difficult to see why he might want to make this movie.

Review: Waves

Image courtesy of A24.

The third feature film from director Trey Edward Shults is overstuffed, often visually dazzling, occasionally maddening, well acted and sure to get a strong reaction one way or another from those who view it. The 135-minute film is really two movies for the price of one - a somewhat lurid, albeit well performed and stylish, melodramatic first half, and a much more restrained - and significantly more engaging - second act.

It should be pointed out that Shults - who is also responsible for the equally invasive drama "Krisha" and the low-key apocalypse film "It Comes at Night" - is white, and as a result some of the liberties he takes in telling this story, well, might make some uncomfortable. The film follows an affluent African American family in Florida whose lives take a tragic turn after son Tyler (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) takes a terrible action that ruins his life.

Tyler is a star wrestler, and is pushed by his overzealous father, Ronald (Sterling K. Brown), to achieve success. But Tyler finds out from a doctor that he has serious damage to his shoulder and must undergo surgery to prevent permanent damage. This, of course, will derail his high school wrestling career and, perhaps, get in the way of obtaining a scholarship. At the same time, he finds out that his girlfriend, Alexis (Alexa Demie), who's Hispanic, is pregnant, and she's not as keen on having an abortion as he is.

These two conflicts come to a head, and after Alexis has dumped Tyler due to his lack of support in her carrying her baby to term, he shows up at an after-prom party, and a tragedy occurs. As a result, Tyler is imprisoned, most likely for a period of many years. His family is, naturally, torn apart.

But just when you think the film is going to end on a bleak note, a second story materializes - that of Emily (Taylor Russell), Tyler's younger sister, who finds herself ostracized at school due to her brother's actions and being sought by a young man named Luke (Lucas Hedges), who's white.

If you're wondering why I'm pointing out the races of the various characters - and the affluent status of Tyler's family - it's because the filmmakers' use of these various signifiers are at the heart of what some could perceive as the film's faults. The picture's first half becomes increasingly sensationalist and melodramatic, portraying a young African American man and his Hispanic girlfriend in a relationship that takes a dysfunctional turn, with him calling her a "bitch" on more than one occasion and, eventually, getting violent.

However, Emily's relationship with the white guy - whose own problems involve an estranged, drug addicted father who's dying - is portrayed as the more stable of the two. My belief is that Tyler's family is portrayed as being wealthy because had they been lower class, the story might have seen accusations of dabbling in, for lack of a better phrase, misery porn. I don't believe this portrayal of the characters comes from a negative place, but it occasionally makes for uneasy viewing, considering the source.

So, it's a genuinely pleasant surprise when, during its second half, "Waves" leaves behind the melodrama of Tyler's story, and takes a more thoughtful approach to Emily's. For starters, Tyler's story is more grim in the sense that he is the one who commits the act that causes his family's downfall and, therefore, he's a little harder to sympathize with, whereas the second half focuses on the aftermath and how Emily, a shy young woman, tries to bring her family back together again. In other words, the film's second act successfully delivers the emotion - although subtly - that the first act is trying so desperately, and not so subtly, to force on the audience.

"Waves" has drawn a number of favorable reviews, and it's not hard to see why. Visually, it's often stunning - although the swirling dervish camera shots in vehicles driven by its lead characters are often more headache inducing than awe inspiring - and Shults plays with various aspect ratios and visual styles. In terms of performances, the film is very good, especially from its two young leads. Thematically is where "Waves" is a little all over the place, although the second half does a good job of compensating for some of the faults of the first half.

I'd recommend the film overall, even if it has faults. It's the type of movie in which the director just barely gets away with the hat trick he's trying to pull. "Waves" is audacious - occasionally more so than is likely called for - but when it finally finds the heart of its story in Emily's tale, it delivers the emotional punch it seeks.

Review: Atlantics

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Mati Diop's feature debut, "Atlantics," won the Grand Prix prize at this year's Cannes Film Festival, and it's easy to see why the jury was taken with it. The picture is a haunting, strange and gorgeously filmed allegoric ghost story that has a rhythm and vibe that's different from anything else you'll likely see this year.

The picture at once tackles social issues and features a fated romance, all the while bathing itself in dreamy photography and adding to the mix a touch of the supernatural. As the film opens, a group of men in Dakar, Senegal's capitol city, are demanding the several months worth of pay they're owed by a greedy developer for construction of a new building. As they are fed excuses, they threaten to burn down the building or walk off the job.

One of those men, Souleimane (Ibrahima Traore), wanders off to meet his secret girlfriend, Ada (Mame Bineta Sane), at a secluded spot near a breathtaking beach backdrop. Souleimane and Ada's romance must be kept under wraps because Ada is engaged - albeit not by choice - to a wealthy man named Omar (Babacar Sylla), who will provide everything for her other than the type of true love she has with Souleimane.

Strange occurrences begin to happen. For starters, Souleimane and a group of men take a boat to Spain - without his telling Ada or saying goodbye - in the hope of finding work abroad. Ada is crushed to learn that the boat went down and the men on it are considered missing. Yet, there were no witnesses to the crash, and several acquaintances of Ada swear they've seen Souleimane since.

Ada's betrothal arrives, and during a party celebrating it, a mysterious fire is set in the lavish bedroom that Ada will share with Omar. The police believe Souleimane is involved, and a pushy officer is convinced that Ada has some sort of role in it. Meanwhile, the greedy developer begins to be visited by a group of women with glowing yellow eyes who have come to collect the money owed the missing men.

While the film's tale of interrupted romance is fairly straightforward, Diop's picture takes an interesting approach to its various social issues - the haves vs. the have nots, the refugee crisis and, to an extent, the rights of women to choose their own path. In another film, the eerie supernatural elements might have brought the action to a halt, but Diop shows a steady hand for a directorial debut, and the result is a film with a uniquely moody and dreamy vibe.

The cinematography by Claire Mathon, who also shot another Cannes hit, "Portrait of a Lady on Fire," is hauntingly lovely - especially a shot in which Ada and some other women sit in a dark nightclub while strobe lights pass across their faces - and the score by Fatima Al Qadiri combines a variety of discordant sounds with ambient electronic rhythms.

All in all, "Atlantics" is an impressive debut that is likely to make Diop a director to watch in the years to come. It's available to stream on Netflix and well worth seeking out.

Review: Marriage Story

Image courtesy of Netflix.

"Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best, while divorce lawyers see good people at their worst," says a character in Noah Baumbach's wrenching yet bittersweet "Marriage Story," the director's best in nearly a decade and one of his finest works overall. While that statement is debatable, its second half is mostly true regarding the two lead characters of this film.

We first meet Charlie (Adam Driver) and Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) via voiceover as they describe their partner's greatest strengths, although we soon learn that this an assignment given to them by a counselor who is coaching them through the early stages of their divorce. At this point, things are still amicable. He's a theater director in New York City who specializes in the avant garde, while she's his lead actress who formerly got famous from a teen movie before she met Charlie. They have a precocious young son named Henry (Azhy Robertson).

Things start to get complicated when Nicole decides to move to Los Angeles - she's originally from California - to star in a TV show, and Charlie must travel back and forth to see Henry, who is living with his mother. The couple vows not to get lawyers involved, but Nicole eventually relents, hiring the spunky Nora (Laura Dern), which prompts Charlie to hire his own - first the good natured Bert (Alan Alda), but eventually the more aggressive Jay (Ray Liotta).

From there, things get increasingly acrimonious as Charlie's lawyers fight to get the couple considered as a "New York family" for residency and custody purposes, and eventually the couple's grievances get nasty. A court appearance turns ugly - with accusations of alcohol abuse to infidelity - and an argument between Nicole and Charlie at his new apartment results in both of them shouting things at each other they likely wished they'd never said. For the record, Charlie had cheated once during their marriage, and Nicole is prone to taking more than a few nightcaps on occasion.

"Marriage Story" - which feels like a combination of John Cassavetes, Ingmar Bergman and Woody Allen, meaning it's alternately grueling and very funny - also makes the best use of exploring the New York-Los Angeles dichotomy in any film since "Annie Hall." Much like that classic, Baumbach's film is often bittersweet and filled with longing, that is, when it's not emotionally distressing.

While the film's middle section is full of heartbreaking sequences - the aforementioned bitter fight and a sequence during which Charlie tries with all his might to do the right things during a social worker's visit - the final few scenes are delicate and lovely. There's a scene in which one of the letters from the film's opening scene is revisited, which is followed by a heartbreakingly tender act of thoughtfulness in the final scene.

The performances here are across the board excellent. Driver and Johansson do most of the heavy lifting in their sure-to-be-nominated leading roles, but Dern is a scene stealer as the feisty Nora, a woman whose counsel for her client is likely driven by past experience, and Alda's portrayal of Charlie's first lawyer makes you want to give him a hug.

In his best films - namely, "The Squid and the Whale," "Greenberg" and this one - Baumbach deftly blends acrimony with poignancy, and "Marriage Story" hits some of the highest notes in both categories. It's a powerful slow burn drama that follows the crumbling of a relationship between two people who have their share of good qualities, but also faults.

Baumbach previously explored the harrowing experience a divorce can have on a child - "The Squid and the Whale" - whereas this one gives each of the parents a perspective. Both films are great, and are proof that Baumbach is one of the best current directors exploring the affairs of the heart.

Review: Knives Out

Image courtesy of Lionsgate.

Rian Johnson's "Knives Out" is an Agatha Christie-esque mystery with a quirkier vibe - and a little social commentary thrown in. In the vein of "Clue," the picture assembles various members of a bitterly squabbling family to a large old house, to which a detective named Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig, putting on a kitschy, southern-fried accent) has been called in the event of the death of the family's patriarch, Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer), a famed best-selling author known for twisty murder mysteries.

Much like one of Thrombey's novels, the circumstances of his death leads to numerous sleights of hand, and rugs being pulled out from beneath the audience. What makes it strange, however, for this type of film is that the central method of Thrombey's death is revealed early in the picture - and, without giving too much away, it doesn't appear at first to involve foul play.

The central figure of the film is Marta (Ana de Armas), Harlan's devoted nurse, who is promised by the family to be taken care of after Harlan dies. However, once Marta finds herself mixed up in Blanc's investigation, all bets are off - not only for Marta, but for the entire family as its members are ready to throw the others under the bus to get a larger piece of the inheritance.

Johnson is a director who often dabbles in various genres - from science fiction ("Looper" and "Star Wars: The Last Jedi") to hard boiled noir ("Brick") - so, he seems a natural fit to take on a clever genre exercise like "Knives Out." It's not a great mystery film, but rather a solid piece of escapism with a game cast, which includes Chris Evans as the family's black sheep, Jamie Lee Curtis as the oldest daughter, Don Johnson as her philandering husband, Toni Collette as a daughter-in-law and Michael Shannon as the son who runs Harlan's publishing company.

There's also a bit of social commentary that's occasionally thrown into the mix. Marta hails from Ecuador and the family casually brings up the fact that her mother is an illegal immigrant - other than Johnson's character, who hilariously thinks that Marta made it to the United States "the right way" - in a manner that often feels like a threat.

Shannon's teenage son (Jaeden Martell, of the "It" movies) is referred to by Collette's free-spirited "liberal" character as a "right-wing troll," and there's a lengthy discussion in which the adult members of the family have a debate about immigration - needless to say, some of them are Trump supporters. So, there's something of a catharsis involved watching Marta outsmart these people, who claim they'll take care of her, but turn on her in an instant when fortune favors her.

Ultimately, "Knives Out" is a fresh take on the whodunit. It's priority, despite some veering off into sociopolitical territory, is twists and turns. It's less of a thriller than it is a comedic mystery. It also has the benefit of a pretty wonderful final shot. All in all, "Knives Out" is pretty sharp.

Review: A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures.

It's easy to relate to Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys) - a stand-in for Tom Junod, who wrote the piece "Can You Say... Hero?" for Esquire in 1998. He's a cynical writer - much like myself - who's not a big fan of sentimentalism or overeager sincerity. And yet, he can't help but admit that Fred Rogers - that's Mr. Rogers (Tom Hanks, who doesn't look like the man, but nails his mannerisms) to you - seems like a pretty sincere guy who means every word he says.

It's hard not to love Mr. Rogers - not just for the ways in which he talks matter-of-factly to children about such heavy topics as death and war and helps them find methods of channeling their anger or hurt into something constructive, but also in how radical his show was at the time it premiered in 1968. One of his most famous episodes involved him inviting an African American friend to bathe his feet in the same tub as Mr. Rogers at a time when a number of corners of the United States were still segregating pools. That's not referenced here, but Vogel comes to realize pretty quickly during his interviews for the Esquire piece that Rogers is the real deal.

Marielle Heller's "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" is set up like an episode of a Mr. Rogers show. He waltzes in singing his theme song, takes off his shoes and dons his red cardigan. He displays a picture board with photos of friends - one of whom is Lloyd - and talks about the fact that his friend has a problem. This sequence is, of course, in the realm of fantasy, but it sets up Vogel's dilemma. By the way, did I mention that Mr. Rogers is a supporting character, and that the film is centered around Vogel's new fatherhood and distant relationship with his previously absent father (Chris Cooper)?

As the film opens and Vogel gets his Esquire assignment - he doesn't take well to writing about a "smarmy children's show host" - Vogel is on his way with his wife, Andrea (Susan Kelechi Watson), to his sister's third wedding (some good jokes are to be had on this matter). There, he runs into his father, who's drunk as usual, and fisticuffs ensue. Feeling pretty low, Vogel heads to Pittsburgh with his assignment of interviewing Rogers.

From the start, he finds the TV personality disarming. For starters, Rogers not only gives rather candid answers, but he also questions Vogel about his own life, and listens intently. Vogel isn't too pleased about this at first, but he eventually rolls with it. There's a moment in which Vogel is attempting to get behind the mask, so to speak, of whom he believes Rogers to be, only to find that the man is exactly the same person in the flesh as he is on TV. Rogers tells him that he tries to get children to find ways to cope with life's harsh elements by finding ways to channel their anger and frustration - whether it's swimming laps (which Rogers does himself) or pounding the low keys on a piano.

Heller, whose previous film was the hilariously melancholic "Can You Ever Forgive Me?", once again focuses her lens on a troubled soul - Vogel, that is, not Rogers. Her latest film has a really great final sequence involving Rogers shooting an episode of his TV show, and then sitting down at the piano. What he does while playing speaks to the fact that even the kindest of souls might have their own demons, and need ways to keep them at bay.

Rhys, who was so great on "The Americans," really carries the film in the lead role, and Hanks is, not surprisingly, very good as Rogers - although he doesn't look like him, what other actor could inhabit the man's inherent kindness and patience better than Hanks?

While last year's lovely documentary "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" got to the heart of who Rogers was, and was a tearjerker in its own right, Heller's film uses the character of Mr. Rogers to show how adults can continue to learn by putting themselves in children's shoes and remembering how they felt at a young age - a piece of advice that Rogers imparts to Vogel during their interview. This is a cathartic film about kindness and understanding at a time when our world could use a little more of both.

Review: The Irishman

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Martin Scorsese's final word on the mob genre is more of a funereal affair than one might expect from the director of such vivacious gangster classics as "Goodfellas" and "Casino." While the director's three-and-a-half-hour opus bears some stylistic resemblances to those previous films, it also focuses on regret and mortality, and in doing so reminded me of Sergio Leone's long and fragmented - albeit brilliant - "Once Upon a Time in America."

The film opens with a long winding tracking shot - the type employed in "Goodfellas" - through a nursing home in the early 2000s, where we find an aging man named Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro in his best performance in ages) sitting in a wheel chair. The song "In the Still of the Night" plays on the soundtrack, and it will act as a motif in the picture. Frank begins narrating his story - first as voice over, then out loud - and it's a doozy of a tale that spans from World War II to the early 21st century and includes the Bay of Pigs, the JFK assassination, the famed Umberto's mob hit in Little Italy and the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa (portrayed by a wily Al Pacino).

Frank claims to have some involvement in each of these historic milestones, although we get the impression that he's possibly an unreliable narrator. Indeed, some have questioned the veracity of Sheeran's claims in the book "I Heard You Paint Houses" by Charles Brandt, to whom Sheeran told his story, but "The Irishman" isn't as concerned with the historical record as it is this particular character's portrayal of it, and how it comes to haunt him as he withers away into old age.

For a movie obsessed with death, sin and regret, "The Irishman" is often one of Scorsese's funnier movies, from an ongoing joke involving Frank and Philadelphia crime boss Russell Bufalino's (a fantastic Joe Pesci) wives wanting to pull over to have a smoke during a road trip to a scene in which a mobster (Bobby Cannavale) catches a lower level crook in a lie regarding his mother's death. Also, Frank - who was involved in numerous murders and frequent violent behavior - relays the story with a cheerful tone, that is, at least for the film's first two-thirds.

Anna Paquin has a bit role as Peggy, one of Frank's four daughters, and much has been made over the fact that she has so few lines in the film. Her character, described as a shy girl, acts somewhat as a witness to Frank's behavior. Early in the movie, she's shoved by a grocer and her father responds in an extreme manner. Later, as his crimes become more violent and he sneaks out of his house in the night to perform them, it is often Peggy there watching on the staircase. She might not know exactly what he's up to, but she knows it's something wrong.

Frank's parenting is one of two things that haunt him during the film's final 30 minutes, in which we see him estranged from his family, picking out a coffin and trying, but failing, to express remorse while talking to a priest. The other thing that plagues his soul is the disappearance of Hoffa, to whom Frank was a right-hand man and good friend.

The relationships between two sets of men - Frank and Russell, who acts as a father figure to Sheeran, and Frank and Hoffa, who often share hotel rooms together when traveling to visit local union chapters - is often the heart of the movie. During one hotel stay, Frank notices that Hoffa likes to keep his bedroom door slightly ajar when he sleeps at night. That shot bookends the film, but in the second instance looking in on a room inhabited by an ailing Frank. There's a world of meaning to be read into it.

Scorsese is arguably the greatest living filmmaker, and "The Irishman" feels like a retrospective of his work - while at the same time having a tone that's different from his previous mob movies. Stylistically, the picture owes as much to his recent "Silence" as it does "Goodfellas." It also employs another trait that might have seemed like an indulgence with another director, but works well in adding to the somber atmosphere: when a number of mob figures are introduced, text appears on the screen next to them indicating the date and manner in which they were killed, and most of the time it's not by natural causes.

And oddly enough, "The Irishman" reminded me of David Lynch's fabulous "Twin Peaks: The Return" in some ways. That film also used an oldies ballad - "My Prayer" - to act as a motif that tied together pivotal scenes, while also driving home the fact that while you can look back on the glory days, you can never quite recover them. Much like Lynch's work, Scorsese's latest doesn't have the youthful, exciting vibe of "Goodfellas," but rather a mournful looking back by an old man on a turbulent life full of regrets.

This is one of the year's best movies, and it's the type that you need at least two viewings to fully grasp. At age 77, Scorsese might be winding down the genre with which he has long been associated, but "The Irishman" isn't just a greatest hits package. Instead, it's a powerhouse movie that observes a man who, by the nature of his work, shouldn't have lived as long as he did, and his punishment is to live with the ghosts that he helped to create.

Review: Ford v Ferrari

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

I've never particularly been a car aficionado, so while the concept of flashy vehicles traveling round and round in circles and loud engines revving didn't exactly sound like my cup of tea, James Mangold's period piece racing movie "Ford v Ferrari" is actually pretty good.

The film tells the apparently true story of Henry Ford II (Tracy Letts, whose portrayal gives the impression that the man had some sort of painful, chronic gas) giving the go-ahead to create a Ford vehicle that could defeat the much faster Ferrari in the grueling, 24-hour Le Mans race in France - a feat that had never been performed by an American car up until 1966 when this film is set.

The two men credited here with accomplishing this feat did so at a time when they'd nearly hit bottom. We meet race car driver Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) at the film's beginning as he has just won a race, but learns shortly thereafter that a heart condition will prevent him from ever racing again. Ken Miles (Christian Bale) is a cranky British driver who finds out that the IRS has shut down his mechanic's shop, and he is desperate to find a way to support his wife (Caitriona Balfe) and young son (Noah Jupe).

When Ford learns that Ferrari is verging on bankruptcy - his strive for perfection in his automobiles has cost him a pretty penny - he and some of his corporate stooges (played by Jon Bernthal and a particularly slimy Josh Lucas) come up with a scheme to purchase Ferrari, although the deal might prevent Enzo Ferrari (Remo Girone) from racing his cars at Le Mans. Ferrari insults Ford and strikes up a deal with Fiat, and we later learn that having talks with Ford was merely a bargaining tool for the Italian carmaker.

Angered, Ford becomes determined to defeat Ferrari at Le Mans, despite the Italian car being significantly better made for racing and the fact that Ferrari had won the coveted prize for many years in a row. Shelby is brought on board to lead the effort, and he insists that Miles is the driver, although Lucas' Leo Beebe is hellbent on keeping Miles from being behind the wheel during the race due to Miles' occasionally erratic behavior.

"Ford v Ferrari" is in many ways a typical sports movie, but it's unique in that it asks us to root for two guys - Miles and Shelby - who are doing the bidding of some others - Ford and Beebe - who are not so likable. Beebe is a corporate shill who wants nothing more than to perfect a brand for the purpose of making large profits, while Ford is portrayed as a casual bigot and the type of guy who threatens his workforce to come up with bold ideas - that he seemingly can't come up with himself - or he'll fire them all. In some ways, the snootily-portrayed Ferrari is the more sympathetic of the two carmakers because there appears to at least be some passion involved in his enterprise.

The film is loaded with gripping racing sequences, although the picture hits most of the formulaic beats you'd expect. It's Damon and Bale who keep us interested throughout as two men who have an occasionally love-hate relationship, but also grudging respect for one another. For those unfamiliar with how the 1966 Le Mans turned out - as well as the fate of those involved - there's some honestly earned emotion late in the picture.

"Ford v Ferrari" has some trappings of a blockbuster film - it's sleek design, fast paced action sequences and visual style - and yet it's the type of movie that doesn't get made much anymore, at least by major studios, which mostly deal in franchises, sequels and pictures that are preprogrammed for success. Mangold's film employs some old-fashioned storytelling, and for the most part it's pretty enjoyable.

Review: The Good Liar

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

It's somewhat of a task to review Bill Condon's "The Good Liar" while keeping in mind not to give away spoilers because the entire film is a series of plot twists that inform where the story goes next. That being said, I'd imagine a number of viewers will see where the picture is heading ahead of time - I did, at least in terms of the film's biggest plot twist, despite not being able to foresee the various details regarding it - but I still make it a point to try not to ruin movies for those who want to go in knowing little to nothing.

The film is a thriller about a con man named Roy (Ian McKellen at his most vicious) who pulls off a variety of schemes to bilk wealthy people out of their money, and doesn't mind resorting to violence when necessary. In the film, he meets a widowed woman named Betty (Helen Mirren) online, and we know all along he's coming up with ways to steal her money - which, according to Betty, adds up to a few million dollars.

"The Good Liar" is a cat-and-mouse type of thriller, in which various twists realign what we think about each of the characters and cause us to reassess who we think will come out on top. Betty has a grandson named Stephen (Russell Tovey) who suspects something is up with Roy, and who continually drops warnings to his grandmother, who is quick to come to Roy's defense.

The picture includes several flashbacks to World War II-era Germany - the film itself is set in 2009 for reasons obviously involving the characters' ages - that slowly unveil exactly what is going on and why various characters act the way they do. The film doesn't exactly do this organically - scenes set in the past pop up at the end and reveal details at which no one watching the film could have guessed, rather than laying clues throughout the movie.

On the one hand, we cringe when Roy swindles Betty into merging her bank account with his - this takes place after the two have hit it off and, during a somewhat unbelievable sequence, decide to become roommates - but on the other, we always feel as if the rug is about to be pulled out from under us again.

Condon's body of work has included heavy dramas (the great "Gods and Monsters" and "Kinsey"), musicals ("Dreamgirls") and even a "Twilight" sequel (not one of his better outings as a director), but "The Good Liar" fits more in line with some early, low budget mysteries that he made. While his latest is better than those pictures, "The Good Liar" mostly works because two great actors are able to play off each other and have a little fun in the process. It's an amusing enough thriller that works in spite of some storytelling choices that are at times a little obvious and as well as a good showcase for its great leads.

Review: Pain & Glory

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

Looking back and moving forward is the best way to describe the theme of "Pain & Glory," the latest film from the great Pedro Almodovar and the director's best movie in 13 years. As the title says, it's a film about pain, both the physical and spiritual kind, while the glory is mostly considered by the film's lead character - a retired filmmaker named Salvador (Antonio Banderas in what is likely a career best performance) - as a thing of the past.

At the film's beginning, Salvador, who no longer makes movies due to a series of physical ailments that make it painful for him to move around too much, is contacted about an upcoming screening of a film he made 30 years before that he didn't like at the time, but has now achieved status among critics as somewhat of a classic. At the time, Salvador had a falling out with his leading man, Alberto (Asier Etxeandia), because he didn't believe his performance worked well in the picture, but he's now come to respect it.

Salvador reconnects with Alberto, and their friendship gets off to a rocky start after Salvador, during a question and answer session on their film, once again insults Alberto's performance. It also doesn't help that Alberto gets Salvador hooked on heroin to compensate for the lack of relief from the medications he takes. Alberto takes an interest in a piece of writing titled "Addictions" that he finds on Salvador's computer, and wants to turn it into a stage production, but Salvador refuses on the grounds that the work is too personal.

But he eventually relents, leading to one of the film's most moving sequences after Alberto is approached by a man named Federico (Leonardo Sbaraglia), who inspired a key character in "Addictions" and was Salvador's former lover, after a performance.

Scenes from various periods of Salvador's life are intertwined throughout the film, and it's only during the very last scene when we realize exactly what Almodovar is up to. It's a clever ending that makes you view the material a little differently than at the time you were watching it.

There are some lovely scenes depicting Salvador's childhood, during which he is raised by his mother (Penelope Cruz) in a small Spanish village. Salvador and his mother live in a home that looks like a cave, and it's there that he will have a formative experience involving an illiterate young man who has agreed to paint their house in exchange for reading lessons from Salvador. There are other scenes from a seminary where Salvador grudgingly attended school and flashbacks to moments with his ailing mother before she died.

Clearly, Salvador is a stand-in for Almodovar and the film feels as if it's a deeply personal one. Federico, who was a drug addict at the time of his affair with Salvador, tears up during a line in Alberto's performance of "Addictions" in which the play's author notes that he doesn't know if  Federico was saved by the place he ran off to, but that the cinema saved him.

Many filmmakers - most notably, Federico Fellini - have made autobiographical films about the making of movies that grapple with such topics as upbringing, artistic stasis and mortality, so it's no surprise that "Pain & Glory" has seen some comparisons to "8 1/2." It's the director's most openly emotional film since "All About My Mother," and it's a tribute to the concept that while great art is often borne out of pain, the glory that results has a healing power. This is one of Almodovar's best films and one of the finest pictures of the year.

Review: Doctor Sleep

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Making a sequel to an iconic horror movie like "The Shining" is seemingly a daunting task because it's unlikely any other director than Stanley Kubrick could match the original's foreboding style and mysterious aura. Director Mike Flanagan does sort of an interesting thing with "Doctor Sleep," a film based on Stephen King's sequel novel, by marrying some elements of Kubrick's 1980 film with King's own take on the story.

King famously hated Kubrick's film - which I'll never quite get, although I understand the original story was a personal one for the author, while the director had his own specific vision for the narrative - so Flanagan must have done some wrangling to get his blessing for a film that follows up the original ending of the 1980 film (which differed from that of the book).

"Doctor Sleep" is an imperfect film - the picture's lead group of villains, known as the True Knot, are at once compelling and slightly ridiculous, the former mostly due to Rebecca Ferguson's sinister presence as Rose the Hat, who leads a band of villains who capture young people who "shine" and basically eat their soul, and the latter because the story over-explains how "the shining" works and how the True Knot feeds on the "steam" of those who have it as they are dying. It's sort of similar to when they explained "the force" in those "Star Wars" prequels.

That being said, there are some very strong sequences in the film - including a horrifying scene in which a young boy played by Jacob Tremblay is devoured by the True Knot and the visit in the finale to the Overlook Hotel, although it plays heavily on nostalgia - and Ewan McGregor gives his best performance in some time as Danny Torrance, the young boy who escaped Jack Nicholson's crazed father in the original film and has now grown up into an alcoholic who lives in a dingy apartment.

But Danny meets a kind man (Cliff Curtis) who gives him a chance and gets him into AA, and eventually finds himself in a long-distance "shining" friendship with a young girl named Abra (Kyliegh Curran), who makes her powerful presence known to the True Knot and, as a result, puts herself in grave danger.

While "The Shining" worked brilliantly as an epic - and epic-length - horror film,  the running time for "Doctor Sleep" feels a little on the longish side, but it mostly remains compelling throughout. It takes some guts to make a sequel to a film that is among the most revered in the horror genre, especially 39 years after the fact, but Flanagan's film mostly works. No, it doesn't hold a candle to Kubrick's visionary work, but it's one that horror movie fans will certainly want to seek out.

Review: Parasite

Image courtesy of Neon.

Once again incorporating elements of genre, while at the same time defying them by vacillating between tones and moods, Bong Joon Ho's Palm d'Or winner "Parasite" is every bit as good as you've heard. This bleak, hilarious, violent and strangely moving tale of the haves vs. the have nots is the Korean director's latest thrilling take on the structural inequality that has become a topic du jour around the globe in recent years.

Following two fantasies that tackled the subject - the very good "Snowpiercer" and "Okja" - the director's latest is more down to earth in its storytelling, although the director's flare for the fantastic is only kept at bay for so long.

The film starts out as a comedy, of sorts, as a young man named Kim Ki-woo (Woo-sik Choi) who lives in squalor with his semi-con artist family - father Ki-taek (Kang-ho Song), mother Chung-sook (Hye-jin Jang) and teenage sister Ki-jung (So-dam Park) - is given a golden opportunity: a more well-to-do friend is leaving to go abroad and suggests that Ki-woo take over his position as tutor to a rich young girl named Da-hye (Ji-so Jung).

Ki-woo manages to impress Da-hye's easily fooled mother, Yeon-kyo (Yeo-jeong Jo), and then somehow finagles his sister into a job tutoring the rich family's hyperactive son, Da-song (Hyun-jun Jung), as well as nabbing a maid job for his mother and a driver gig for his father, who shuttles around Yeon-kyo's businessman husband, Dong-ik (Sun-kyun Lee).

The catch is that the entire Kim family pretends as if they are not related as a scheme to bring in more money in the hope that they can escape their impoverished way of life. However, a few people stand in their way - the Parks' current driver and a longtime housemaid named Moon-gwang (Jeong-eun Lee), who had worked for the previous owner of the house, a rich architect. These people are easily pushed aside at first, although one later returns and stumbles upon the Kims' plot. As it turns out, Moon-gwang is harboring her own secret in the basement of the Parks' luxurious pad.

Part social commentary and part Hitchcockian thriller - all the while a Bong Joon Ho picture in every way - "Parasite" juggles its various tones deftly, moving from sly comedy with a satiric dose of social commentary to bloody thriller without one hardly noticing the change in mood. It's difficult to switch back and forth as the director does here, but he manages to do so impressively. And just when you think the film has settled on a violent and bleak finale, you get a coda that powerfully drives home the filmmaker's thoughts on income inequality.

There is much humor to be found in the film's first half and more than a few plot twists and nerve jangling moments later in the picture that would feel at home in a classic thriller, but it's the way that the director does so while also exploring the injustices the rich heap upon the lower class that serves them and the resentment built up by those who are at the mercy of others with greater economic status that's so impressive in "Parasite."

When all eventually explodes, it's less cathartic than it is horrifying. A final, naive letter from one character who survives the melee to another powerfully drives home the hopelessness of the cycle in which several of the film's characters are stuck. "Parasite" is a real stunner, and certainly one of the year's best movies.

Review: Jojo Rabbit

Image courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Taika Waititi's "Jojo Rabbit" works a whole lot more than I thought it would - or than it should, for that matter. Films that incorporate lighthearted elements - or are outright comedies - involving the Holocaust always take a certain amount of risk in terms of tone - although there have been good ones by Mel Brooks and Roberto Benigni. Waititi makes it clear from the start that his picture is going for laughs, although it later draws other emotional responses.

The picture kicks off feeling like a kookier version of a Wes Anderson Holocaust movie. The lead protagonist, Jojo Rabbit (Roman Griffin Davis), so named for his inability to follow a command from an SS crony to kill a small woodland creature, is a young zealot who is part of the Hitler Youths. At the film's beginning, Jojo disastrously attempts to show off while throwing a grenade, and this quickly cuts his Hitler Youth days short.

No matter because Adolf Hitler himself happens to be the boy's imaginary best friend (and played by the director). I know, this sort of whimsical approach shouldn't work, and there are some valid complaints that are sure to be had as portraying Hitler as such a fun-loving guy. Then again, keep in mind that this is how the naive Jojo views the fuhrer, whose introduction via stock footage clips compares to him to a pop music star.

Jojo's mother (Scarlett Johansson) doesn't approve of her son's obsessions - so much so that she's hiding a young Jewish girl named Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie) in the attic - and isn't too pleased with her home country either. But for Elsa's sake, she tows the line.

"Jojo Rabbit" is actually a pretty funny movie - a joke about German shepherds will leave even the most hardened cynic in the film laughing loudly, I gather - and it's a coming of age film with its heart in the right place. It also helps that the cast is so good, especially the three leads, but also Sam Rockwell as a vainglorious Nazi captain and Archie Yates as Jojo's best pal.

Oddly enough, the film's biggest flaw is Hitler as Jojo's imaginary friend, but not in the way you might think. If anything, this plot device plays it a little too safely and could have been utilized for more pointed commentary. There are also a few scenes involving Rockwell's character that, although the actor is good in the movie, are a little too far fetched to believe.

That being said, the film doesn't exist merely to poke fun at Nazis, and in its final moments it makes a rousing pitch for humanism in horrifying times. There's a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke - a poet cited more than once in the film - in the film's finale to provide backup evidence as such and a shockingly sad moment late in the film in which Jojo discovers a well-known pair of shoes in a place he might not expect them. The scene is so terribly sad that one almost forgets all of the comedic bits that came before it.

All in all, "Jojo Rabbit" mostly works. It's not often that I find myself using the expression "delightful" when it comes to movies about the Holocaust, but it applies well enough here. Waititi's film is often funny, but when it aims for the gut, its punches land pretty hard.