Top 7 - My Favourite Films of 2020
So.. 2020, huh? What's that all about? Not that 2021 has been much better so far, but you know the rules, any reflection of the last year has to include some brief mention of the fact that we have just experienced the worst year almost all of us will have ever lived through. Cutting and accurate summations of what went wrong and where isn't my strength though, so that obviously isn't what I'm writing about today (though quickly, Fuck the Tories for dealing with this pandemic worse than anyone would have guessed ten months ago. Anyone who votes for you in the next election deserves help, as they're clearly suffering from Stockholm syndrome). No, obviously what I'm here for today is to talk to you about the best films I saw from this mess of a year! Though much of what we were looking forward to has been delayed from last year into this year, we still had plenty to enjoy and I want to celebrate those films we did actually get to watch, whether in a cinema or safely tucked away at home.
This is one of those lists where I'm going to need to do a lot of clarifications on what was eligible for the list. A lot of UK critics have films like Parasite or Uncut Gems on their best of the year lists, but since I saw those in 2019 while I was living in America, they're on the 2019 list I did last year. That means we have a weird combination of mainly films that came out in the UK this year, but some that did have been omitted. I've also allowed a few of the entries from Steve McQueen's Small Axe anthology through. Though released as episodes of a TV show, their quality means that they deserve a place on here and I frankly would just like the chance to talk about them. If any of these films interested you and they have a link in the title, feel free to follow it, as it will take you to a full length review of the film in question! As a final note, I didn't get to see every film this year (obviously), but if you're wondering what I did see, here is a list of everything on Letterboxd. With these things sorted, onto the honourable mentions!
The Painter and The Thief
A brilliantly gripping art-heist documentary, built first to feel like a thriller before evolving into a study about two of the most fascinating figures in any documentary this year.
You Don't Nomi
Never seen the cult classic film Showgirls? In that case, this documentary is definitely not for you, but for any converts to the cult, You Don't Nomi is a must see, breaking down cult film and its importance better than any documentary since Best Worst Movie.
Saint Maud
This may sound like damning with faint praise, but the final few frames of Saint Maud may be the best final frames of any film this year, a final moment which reframes a tale whose horror was already confoundingly brilliant enough.
Red, White and Blue
The first entry in Small Axe to make the list, Red, White and Blue is a worryingly timely look into the institutional racism inside the police force, while also proving that John Boyega is going to be so much more than "the guy from Star Wars" in years to come.
Possessor
Education
Bacurau
It's a weird Brazilian horror/Western/thriller/social commentary movie! You know, one of those! The first two acts are careful to set up the world, before the third act is allowed to tear it all down in utterly gleeful scenes of horrific violence.
Honourable mentions done, onto the main list!
7. Lovers Rock
When I first read the title Lovers Rock, I assumed it was a place. It's not, not really, though this film does have a superb sense of place. As it turns out, Lovers Rock is a statement that love is awesome, a statement that reverberates through the film like the bass from loud speakers through a poorly insulated house. Unlike the other entries in Small Axe, this a film that largely steers clear of conflict and instead just revels in the gloriousness of revelry. It's bodies, it's beer, it's baccy, all working their way through this night with an energy that feels like it could never die. Speaking of, the needle drops in Lovers Rock are incredible, injecting any moment that could feel less powerful with a new freshness. It marks the only time I've ever seen a film nail a sincere use of the song "Kung Fu Fighting", which almost makes the film worth watching by itself. Like films I've already covered (and a few I'm about to), Lovers Rock feels especially potent this year, when touch is something so hard for us to attain. I craved the feeling of a house party at the house of someone I barely knew before watching Lovers Rock but afterwards, I ached for that feeling so much it hurt. It is the least politically urgent film of Small Axe, but is no less urgent in its celebration of how good it feels to love and be loved. Writing this now, all I crave is another watch, which I may just do once I've wrapped up.
6. Ema
Lovers Rock was a film where dance was a form of escape and in its own strange way, the same is true for Ema, this Chilean freak-out of an arthouse movie. The titular character is a dancer who, along with her dance instructor partner, is reeling in the recent heartbreak of having their adopted son taken away from them by the authorities. Ema is in a position where she feels trapped, unable to be herself anymore and so she seeks a solution. That solution? Dance. Lots of it. Specifically lots of incredibly sexually charged dancing, as a representation of the wider performance she is partaking in throughout her daily life. It's hard for me to really get my analytical claws into a movie like this, but if nothing else it's easy to praise. The performances are brilliant, the film looks amazing and even as someone who understands nothing about dance as an art form, the set pieces totally captivated me. I don't think everyone will dig this film (its very presence as a Mubi Original should make that abundantly clear), but there's a weird group of people who will. I feel quite proud to consider myself amongst that group of weirdos.
5. Mangrove
I loved pretty much all of Small Axe, but the big problem I had was that after Mangrove, every episode seemed slightly inferior. In this film, Steve McQueen explores the famous Mangrove restaurant in Notting Hill and the protests that formed from its sustained and unjustified raiding, splitting the film into two equally essential parts. The first half is exploring and establishing the people surrounding this establishment, leading up to their protest which gets twisted into a riot. From there, the second half of the film is their trial, as they defend themselves against unjust accusations in intensely watchable fashion. Mangrove is the longest instalment of Small Axe, but there's so much to fit in that every frame felt essential. Building these characters up into real humans (because in case you are as unaware as I was, this is based on a real incident) means that their fight in the second half is both agonising and hopeful. I found myself getting so emotional that I started to cry at one point, not even from sadness I don't think, just a feeling of being overwhelmed. Like I said with some of the other episodes, Small Axe feels depressingly relevant to our current world, but that's only because we've failed to address the problems the episodes depict. Brilliantly though, all the episodes (and Mangrove in particular) refuse to allow us to feel defeated. Instead, they offer hope. If we remain silent, people will stay oppressed. If we shout from the rooftops and take to the streets, our world stands a chance. Mangrove is one such shout, begging to be joined by others.
4. Feels Good Man
For a while, the documentary about Showgirls was my favourite documentary of the year and I thought, oh that's an amusing little thing that my favourite documentary would be about something so strange. As it turns out, my favourite documentary of the year is about a cartoon frog who became a symbol for the alt-right, which somewhat tops Showgirls in weirdness. For those who are unaware, I'm talking about Pepe the Frog. Once upon a time, he was a good natured little dude who was a fun little meme that people shared on the internet. Then, what felt like suddenly, he was actively a hate symbol for some reason. The brilliance of Feels Good Man lies in a couple of places, but one major place is that it tells that unbelievable story in a way that will patronise no one. If you know nothing about memes, everything will be explained. If you're someone who has lived half their life on the internet, you'll know a few things but enough new stuff will be explained that you'll still feel compelled. The journey of this frog is genuinely stunning, full of so many weird characters, all of whom get their moment to shine in the documentary. It's also packed to the brim with fantastic animation, which lends the whole film a really vibrant and unique tone. What you're getting with Feels Good Man is the kind of documentary that will make you laugh, make you a bit sad and make you shout "WHAT??" many, many times. Amazingly, it's available for free on iPlayer, so if you haven't seen it yet, you owe it to yourself to do so.
3. I'm Thinking of Ending Things
I have two friends who watched I'm Thinking of Ending Things because I recommended it so highly. One of them referred to it as "without a doubt the most over indulgent pretentious steaming pile of shite I have watched in years." The other said "It's like someone took every bad idea they'd ever had and made a very ugly baby out of them. The only reason someone would say they liked this film is to make the people around them feel stupid." Meanwhile, it's my third favourite film of the year. Hopefully, that gives you an idea of how polarising this film is. On the surface, it seems simple. A young woman is going with her boyfriend to visit his parents on their farm, being driven out into the wilderness on a snowy night. They get there, they make awkward small talk, they have dinner and then eventually leave. Describing this film in a literal manner robs it of all its power though, as it's about so much more than that. It's about fear of decay, about over-consumption of media, about para-social relationships mutating in our heads, to name three things of many. It's an existential break-up movie, a horror film about dementia, a film about a janitor watching old romcoms, all at once and not at all. Honestly, it feels like one of the ballsiest things Netflix have ever put on their platform, because for every film student like me who loves Charlie Kaufman, five people will put this on expecting a generic horror film and get an arthouse nightmare. You don't have to love it (although I happen to), but at least respect Netflix for allowing someone to make exactly the film they want when it looks like this.
2. David Byrne's American Utopia
We get to move to unambiguous joy now. David Byrne was the frontman of the band Talking Heads, a band I have a lot of love for indeed. At their prime, they made a concert film called Stop Making Sense, which has justifiably been referred to as one of the greatest concert films of all time. Now, away from the band but still accompanied by a gaggle of talented singers, dancers and musicians, David Byrne could fairly claim to have bested even himself. He strips his stage down to the essentials, taking away things like cables, so that there is nothing between performer and audience anymore. What this leads to is a performance of what can only be described as pure energy, from Byrne and absolutely everyone else on stage. They take a tour through many of Byrne's most famous tracks, as well as a few surprise ones along the way. It also manages to make very pointed political points at moments in the show, something I did not go in expecting but found myself blown away by once I did see them. Perhaps this show doesn't land as well for someone who isn't a fan of Talking Heads or Byrne's work. I can't possibly know that, I am coming from a position of adoration and from that position, this is one of the best times I had with any film from any year in the last 12 months. It gave me hope that one day in the future, hopefully one day soon, we'll be able to sing and dance and celebrate together. Until then, we have American Utopia and we have hope.
1. Portrait of a Lady on Fire
Praise the Gods for strange release windows, it means I get to end this list on a masterpiece, a film I feel comfortable referring to as one of my favourites. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is one of those films that I can't believe I saw less than 12 months ago, because it has become a piece of me. As the last film I saw in a cinema before the pandemic forced them to close, it feels like a film from a different age, yet most of us did actually see it in 2020. For those who are unaware, Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the story of a 19th century painter, Marianne, who is sent to a remote island to paint a young woman, Héloïse. This painting will be sent to her suitor, who will marry Héloïse if he likes what he sees. However, Héloïse does not want to be painted and so Marianne must pretend to be her companion and paint in secrecy. In this bond, built on a thing that cannot be said, other things grow which cannot be said. And so, boldly, the film does not say them, not for a long time. It builds slowly, taking its time to establish what the thing that can't be said is, without saying the thing until suddenly the thing cannot go unsaid. I've been strangely vague with that synopsis, but it's because the plot doesn't feel like the most important thing to me with Portrait of a Lady on Fire. What feels important is the stunning visuals, the sparse use of music, the way I can genuinely feel my heart reacting to new developments. There is a power in this film, a power I do not understand. All I can do to attempt to understand it is continue to rewatch and continue to be sucked into one of the best films, not just of this year but of the last decade. Even if you think you're not a fan of subtitled films, trust me that there's something in Portrait of a Lady on Fire that you will love. It is too overwhelmingly gorgeous for any mere mortal to refuse. I know I couldn't.
So yeah, that's 2020 done, put away, relegated to a little memory box in our head that says "oh no, please don't open". Who knows what this year has for us? Unfortunately, probably lots of pandemic based movies, but hopefully also something resembling an end to this time. We don't have a lot right now, but we do have hope. It's a powerful little thing and using it can hopefully keep us going until we can enjoy films as brilliant as the ones I've discussed today, together again. Until then, stay safe and stay wonderful.
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