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.