Welcome to Part Two of my Favorite Films of 2013 list! If you missed the first half (numbers 10-6), you can find that here! But I'll stop the self-promotion and get right into what (I hope) you all came here for. MY TOP FIVE FAVORITE FILMS OF 2013! Here we goooooo!!!!
First off, both of Shane Carruth's films, Primer and Upstream Color, are both on Netflix and you should go watch them. Like, right now. Do it. From every Kentuckian's favorite holiday destination, a Myrtle Beach native and former software developer, Shane Carruth is one of the most interesting and fresh new directors on the indie scene - a truly complete auteur package of writer, director, editor, cinematographer, composer and producer. Using his extensive math and science knowledge, he made one of the most well thought out and logically sound time travel movies in cinematic history with Primer. With Upstream Color, his long awaited followup, Carruth brings us yet another incredibly unique tale of inherent connection, of the control (or lack thereof) we have over our lives and the beings that control us, of breaking cycles, and of pigs. Lots and lots of pigs.
Where Primer allowed and even challenged fans to spend untold hours diagramming the intricacies of the film's multiple timelines, Upstream Color is a film that is best left as a mystery. It's possible to figure out the connection between Amy Seimetz's brainwashed scam victim, Carruth's equally screwed up Jeff, and the aforementioned pigs being attended to by a mysterious figure referred to (in the credits) only as "the Sampler." But Upstream Color is less about what we know and more about how we know it, how we find ourselves and connect with each other in this hazy, confusing world. From the beautiful cinematography to the recurring visuals like an outreached hand to the expert use of sound design both by Carruth and by the characters in the film, everything in Upstream Color works as a unified whole, each element beating in time with the others. It's an amazing sophomore effort that is enrapturing both mentally and emotionally - a heavy, disorienting tale that challenges us to look at our lives and how we operate and decide whether or not we're truly in control and if we're not, that asks us if we'll take that control back.
4.) The World's End
I really wanted to put The World's End higher. Edgar Wright is, in my opinion, one of the finest directors living today. His lightning fast quick cuts and razor sharp comic timing, the meta aspects and impeccable use of foreshadowing in his and writing partner Simon Pegg's scripts and his ability to expertly craft beautiful genre films that subvert the tradition while becoming exemplary members of it all while creating deeply personal, heartfelt characters and relationships is unmatched. The only problem is that he has an ungodly amount of trouble with his films' third acts. Put simply, he just doesn't know how to end his movies. It was there with Shawn of the Dead and Hot Fuzz (less so with Scott Pilgrim), but was more easy to forgive. Here, however, the final encounter with the main villain feels confusing and unrelated to the point of nearly leaving a bad taste in your mouth. However, despite all the problems I have with the ending, the fact remains that The World's End is easily the funniest film of the year and the film I had the most fun with in the theater.
The final film of the unofficial "Three Flavors Cornetto Trilogy," The World's End stars Simon Pegg (in what I believe is the best performance of his career thus far) as Gary King who, true to his name, is a kingly screw up eager to relive his high school glory days from the early '90s. In the film, King talks his four best friends (Nick Frost, Martin Freeman, Paddy Considine and Eddie Marsan) into joining him on a trip back to their hometown to complete a 12-stop pub crawl only to discover that (SPOILERS) their old community has been overtaken by a weird and terrifying race of robot aliens. To his eternal credit, when the shift to body-snatcher sci-fi takes place it doesn't offset the realistic, character centered comedy of the film's early moments. What is does, however, is act as a perfect metaphor for living in the past, for the loss of that small town way or life and for that unnerving feeling that comes when you return to those once familiar places that now seem strange and unwelcoming. Even with all the brilliant special effects, in jokes and beautiful, frenetic filmmaking, with a pair of simply brilliant performances by Pegg and Frost, what makes The World's End such a wonderful, effecting film is that above all it is a deeply personal film about addiction, a fantasy about dealing with reality.
3.) Short Term 12
I already have a review up where I sing the praises of Destin Daniel Cretton's Short Term 12 (which you can read here!), but it is a film that's worth revisiting. Based Cretton's 2009 short film of the same name, tells the story of a group home (sharing equal time between residents and employees and based on Cretton's own experiences) called "Short Term 12." Most important of these are supervisor Grace (Brie Larson) and her co-worker whom she is also seeing romantically, Mason (John Gallagher Jr.). The relationship is getting more serious but Grace who, like many of her wards, has some serious problems of her own, is having trouble opening up to Mason. As the film begins, the pair and Jessica (Stephanie Beatriz) are welcoming Cretton's surrogate, Nate (Rami Malek) to the home. Mason is telling a hilarious and disgusting story about chasing after a kid while needing desperately to go to the bathroom. As he does so, a young boy in his underwear runs out of the home shrieking and the supervisors run after and try to calm him down. There is also a new girl named Jayden (Kaitlyn Dever) who is a talented artist but whose abrasive personality hides a very troubled past; and an older kid named Marcus (Keith Stanfield) who is an aspiring rapper who, while having immense skill, is deeply upset at the prospect of having to leave the home following his 18th birthday.
While the film that follows is relatively simple, Short Term 12 depicts the lives of troubled kids and the courageous and loving individuals that dedicate their lives to them with more honesty and empathy than nearly any film I've seen. From the start, Cretton pulls you into this world and within a second you feel as if you've known them forever. While the film feels rushed at times, that is ultimately a product of Cretton's impeccable world building and the fact that we desperately want a deeper connection with these complex, fascinating individuals. All of their struggles and victories become our own. We are connected with them on an intrinsic level. And while it often seems in our lives, like the lives of Grace, Mason, Marcus and Jayden, that happiness is impossible to find, Short Term 12 argues that there are always glimmers of hope. Whether it be a new connection or the strengthening of an old, finally opening up about the pain that has been festering within us or even the promise of a better future, there are glimmers there for all of us. And in 2013, one of the brightest ones was an indie masterpiece called Short Term 12.
2.) Frances Ha
Before watching Frances Ha, I didn't know a lot about Noah Baumbach, but what I did know made me love him. I knew he directed 2005's The Squid and the Whale starring Jeff Daniels and Jesse Eisenberg and 2010's Greenberg starring Ben Stiller, both of which I absolutely adore. He also happened to co-write two of my favorite Wes Anderson movies (they're all my favorite), The Aquatic Life of Steve Zissou (2004) and Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009). So, obviously when I heard about his newest film, Frances Ha, I was excited. And when I saw that it was on Netflix (it still is, go watch it), I was even more pumped! In what I might describe (though it might be disrespectful) as a slightly more demur, goofier yet more engaging version of Lena Dunham's hit TV show Girls, Frances Ha stars Greta Gerwig (indie darling of LOL and Nights and Weekends fame, also co-writer) as a 27-year-old ballet dancer who lives with her best friend Sophie (Mickey Summer) in Brooklyn. Early on in the film, however, Sophie decides to move to better apartment in Tribeca, leaving Frances behind to figure out how to live her life. From there, we follow Frances as she drifts through New York to Sacramento to Paris to Poughkeepsie and finally back to New York as she tries to find a home, visits her family, goes on an uneventful getaway and goes back to work at her old college, lamenting her lack of money, poor dancing prospects and strained relationships along the way.
Frances Ha is a film about contradictions. Frances is an unfocused twentysomething, dubbed "undateable" with a bad streak of self-destructive behavior. She is a bumbling klutz, but she's a dancer. He life and her living arrangements are a mess, yet she wants desperately to be a choreographer. And while she is completely capable of achieving her goals, she severely needs to get her shit together. But, her bad decisions are not earth-shattering ones. She is broke and all her prospects (both professionally and romantically) have gone down the drain. But we know she'll be okay. What is most amazing about the film, though, is that despite the triviality of her problems, Baumbach and Gerwig's script avoids condescension. Unlike with a show like Girls where the audience spends much of its time rolling its eyes at these rich, beautiful people who complain about petty nonsense while seemingly being unaware of the immense privilege they have grown up and continue to live in, we root for Frances. We want her to figure her life out, to turn things around, to get on track. What truly makes Frances Ha such a wonderful film, though, is how effortlessly funny it is. Granted, it doesn't hurt that the film is populated with actors who specialize in creating and delivering witty quips on top of (both intentionally and unintentionally) hilarious jokes, but regardless of whose saying the words, the comedy in Baumbach and Gerwig's co-authored script is dynamic and unrelenting (and the visual/aural/stylistic references are off the chain).
What makes Frances Ha one of my favorite films of the year, however, is how it slowly reveals itself as it reveals its characters. While the film is ostensibly about Frances, its really as much about her best friend Sophie and the pair's changing and evolving relationship. But, what's so refreshing about the film is how it's able to steer away from the "Is she ever going to find a man?" trope. Yes, sexuality and romantic relationships are a part of the experience, but its not what forms these characters' identity. In fact, it isn't even near the top of the list. Likewise, its not exactly clear what Frances wants out of life or even what the film is supposed to be about until things are actually happening. And when this is finally revealed (along with the meaning behind the film's title), it's one of the most surprising "Aha!" moments of clarity I've seen in quite some time.
Though many have argued that the film is not accessible to the large demographics outside of those at or around Frances' age, I disagree. Because, really, Frances Ha isn't about the singular struggles of the post-college generation, stuck between their academic years and venturing into the real world. It's a film about self discovery and all the little details that go along with it. No, there aren't many big plot developments, no shoot outs or car chases or deaths. Friendships come and go, dinner parties are had, rather than being fired people are suggested to pursue other opportunities. But, while these instances seem negligible or trivial in the larger scope of things, it's these small details that inform who we are from day to day until we figure out what we really want to do with ourselves. This is not something that's generational. It's something that is understood and experienced by all walks of life and by all generations. And the way Baumbach and Gerwig are able to fuel this uncertainty and occasional melancholy with propulsive energy and express it with brilliant dialogue that is both witty and engaging creates a truly unique and remarkable film.
1.) Inside Llewyn Davis
Besides Her, the Coen Brothers' latest film, Inside Llewyn Davis, was the last major film of 2013 that I saw before making this list. It's a shame that such an amazing film is literally showing on only (to my knowledge) one screen in Lexington (the wonderful Kentucky Theatre) and on a whopping total of zero screens in Eastern Kentucky and the Huntington, WV area. This has nothing to do with my review, I'm just putting this area on blast. Step your game up, son.
As for the film itself, Inside Llewyn Davis is one of the most stunning and understated movies about depression, the grieving process and breaking the cyclicality of mediocrity I've ever seen. Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) is a Greenwich folk singer by trade, but if his life were an album its genre would be the blues. Currently in the throes of personal and professional tragedy, Llewyn finds himself homeless in the dead of winter, bumming from couch to couch when he isn't stuck freezing to death in the middle of a brutal, New York winter without a heavy coat or the money to buy one. Scraping by one gig at a time and haunted by the loss of his partner and best friend, Llewyn is as lost as the tabby he accidentally lets out of the Gorfein's home (two liberal professors and fans played by Ethan Phillips and Robin Bartlett who act as Llewyn's fallback sanctuary). Repeated attempts to break out and make a successful solo act of himself fail and so he sets out for Chicago to impress star-maker Bud Grossman (F. Murray Abraham) and finally make something of his life.
In my eyes, Inside Llewyn Davis is nearly perfect. Yes, like many of the Coen Brothers' films it is a cold movie - the mix of snow, ice and freezing wind mixing beautifully with Bruno Delbonnel's wintry cinematography. But, for my money, that's the point. Llewyn's life, along with the lives of everyone in his "scene," has been devastated by the loss of his partner Mike Timlin. As we find out later in the film (and in most of the trailers which is why I didn't spoiler tag it), Timlin committed suicide by jumping off the George Washington Bridge and his specter looms over every scene of the film. From what I can piece together from only seeing the film once, it seems like Mike was the glue that held Llewyn and Jim and Jean and their whole scene together; someone that everyone liked but that no one really knew. Now, in death, he acts as another palpable reminder - like the orange cat that disappears and reappears or (SPOILERS) Jean's unborn baby which she plans to abort for fear that it is Llewyn's and not Jim's - of Llewyn's inability to form bonds with other creatures. After a rather intense argument on a Central Park bench, Jean says to Llewyn, "I miss Mike." In another, after performing for Grossman, Llewyn tells him that he used to have a partner, "Yeah, that makes sense," Gross replies. Mike was, in a matter of speaking, Llewyn's winter coat. He was the one who shielded him from the harshness of the outside world that Llewyn now faces alone.
In what is the most emotionally powerful scene in the film (and my favorite scene of 2013), Grossman asks Llewyn to "Play me something from Inside Llewyn Davis." Without the italics, its a comment that packs an immense weight. And so Llewyn does, performing an incredibly moving rendition of "The Death of Queen Jane" about a queen who dies giving birth to her king's son. It's a slow and dismal ballad that Grossman ultimately decides there's no money in, but it's also a song packed with meaning. Llewyn is the titular Queen Jane. He finds himself with something inside of him - all of his sorrow and loneliness and anger - that he can't express. He is stuck in a unending loop (shown in the film's circular structure) of pain and misery, forced to play the same songs at the same gigs in the same hole-in-the-wall clubs forever. That is, until he dies a symbolic death of sorts, giving up caring about all the things he cannot control and starting over again. And as the film circles back around at its conclusion, we get a small glimmer of hope. Llewyn again plays "Fare Thee Well" (the song in all the trailers), but instead of playing the Timlin & Davis version, he plays the Llewyn Davis version. There is no backing instrumentation, the time signature shifts from 4/4 to a 3/4 waltz time, the line about the man "who moved his body like a cannonball" is change to a woman, the rain becomes a drizzle, and he omits two lines - one about the "unborn child" and the one that says "life ain't worth living without the one you love." He opts instead to repeat the first verse, "If I had wings like Noah's dove, I'd fly up the river to the one I love." Though Llewyn isn't quite ready to fly, he seems to at least have a sturdier base for takeoff. And if the Coens' cheeky faux-cameo at the end is any indication, his flight might be just around the corner.
It's not often that I predict anything correctly when it comes to the cinematic world (and here is where I unabashedly pat myself on the back). But from the second I heard about Inside Llewyn Davis, it was easily my most anticipated film of the year and a film that I was convinced would be one of the best of 2013. It's not that I'm particularly smart when it comes to film stuff (I'm not). Nor is it because I am biased towards the Coens (though I do adore most of their films). It was because the Coen Brothers have become one of the most consistently brilliant, exemplary American filmmakers. And with an all-star cast full of amazing performances (Oscar Isaac is absolutely brilliant and I didn't even mention John Goodman as a pedantic, drug-addled jazzman who is fabulous as always), gorgeous cinematography, what is easily the finest soundtrack of the year (produced by the consistently en pointe T-Bone Burnette and including one of the most entertainingly performed original songs of the year in "Please Mr. Kennedy"), and of course impeccable directing, the Coens have once again produced a modern day masterpiece. That's why Inside Llewyn Davis is my favorite film of 2013.
And here are some odds & ends:
Close Calls (Or Films I Really, Really Enjoyed): 12 Years a Slave, The Act of Killing, American Hustle, Blackfish, Drinking Buddies, Gimme the Loot, Gravity, Monsters University, Only God Forgives, Pacific Rim, Room 237, Side Effects, The Spectacular Now, This is the End, You're Next
Films I Regrettably Didn't Get to See (But am Really, Really Looking Forward to Seeing): All is Lost, Blue is the Warmest Color, Dallas Buyers Club, Nebraska, No, The Stories We Tell, Wadjda, The Wind Rises
Films That Should Be Ashamed of Themselves: The Canyons, The Hobbit: The Desolation of SMOWWWWWWG, The Incredible Burt Wonderstone, Man of Steel, Now You See Me, R.I.P.D., Star Trek Into Darkness, AND GROWN UPS 2 ON PRINCIPLE
Thanks for tuning in as always, readers. I hope you enjoyed and, as always, if you haven't seen some of these films, I hope you have been sufficiently intrigued enough to go hunt them down. 2013 was a fantastic year for movies and I look forward to seeing what 2014 has in store. Until we meet again!
