What have we been doing for the last year or so? Well, mostly and thankfully, we’ve been at the movies. If 2021 was miles away from being a year of “recovery” generally, it was at least a vastly better one at the cinema.
Assuming we make it that far, next year will be the 10th edition of these lists Steve and I have pulled together at the end of every year. In the world of unprofitable film websites, we’re limping along, but we’re still here, and that’s no small feat. Here are our 17 best …
The Top Three
The Last Duel
Andrew Johnson: For all the costumes and blindingly distracting star power, this is a deceptively simple story - it’s tri-partite format allowing you to dig deep on class and gender dynamics that, though certainly more brutal and rigid than today, echo to the present. I’m here for examinations of truth that are methodical, as if turning a kaleidoscope around and around. And I’m especially here for it when Jodie Comer, who outshines Driver, Damon, Affleck, and the rest, is involved.
Steve Cimino: One of the year’s more perplexing flops. I can see why audiences might’ve come in expecting a Gladiator-style epic and been surprised by the contemplative drama they got instead, but it seems like everyone rejected it outright. It’s their loss; I did not expect 84-year-old Ridley Scott to direct such a sharp repudiation of masculinity, but he’s crafted a historical masterwork from the brilliant script by Nicole Holofcener, Matt Damon, and Ben Affleck. If you were let down by the lack of swords and armor but made it to the end anyway, the titular duel itself should be plenty of a reward. And let’s not forget Jodie Comer, who literally ties the movie together. Her Oscar snub is reason No. 2,461 to ignore the Academy Awards.
The Power of the Dog
AJ: There’s plenty about which to be rapturous here, but I think what surprised and delighted me most about this film is how off-balance I felt the entire time. The revelation that Kodi Smit-McPhee’s character is as cold and calculating as anyone on the open range is a huge part of that, of course. But so is what the wreckage wrought implies about every step leading up to it. Who is the real monster here? There is no simple answer, though there is an obvious one, Benedict Cumberbatch’s Phil. Is he really any worse than his brother, George? Jane Campion’s sweeping epic invites examination of this question, which is why, more than the stunning landscape, it lingers.
SC: One of the most wonderful surprises of 2021 is everyone watching The Power of the Dog. Somehow, Jane Campion’s Western became a crossover smash on Netflix, inspiring many a Bronco Henry meme and earning the most Oscar noms of the year (OK, they do get it right sometimes). Benedict Cumberbatch, Jesse Plemons, Kirsten Dunst, and Kodi Smit-McPhee are all fully deserving of the heaps of praise sent their way. Jonny Greenwood busts out a truly disarming, ominous score that fits like a glove, and Ari Wegner’s cinematography is masterful. This is the rare work that is properly regarded by all; it’s beloved and awards-heavy, as it should be. Eat shit, Sam Elliott. (I loved you in A Star is Born.)
West Side Story
AJ: Steven Spielberg is a master in part because of how easily he manipulates our emotions. From the now Internet-famous school dance scene to Tony and Maria’s fire escape romance, he puts a smile on our face, only to wipe it off as West Side Story hurtles toward its tragic conclusion. Obviously, this is a story that has been told many, many times. The ease and skill with which Spielberg tells it only further entrenches his greatness.
SC: It’s beyond boring to say a Steven Spielberg film is well directed, but my god this is well directed. It’s beautiful to look at; the dance sequences are brilliant; the story stands the test of time. So why isn’t it the best of the year? Two words: Ansel Elgort. If you can put the sexual assault allegations against him aside (and I totally understand if you can not), he’s still not good here. I don’t know which 20-something actor plays the role instead, but Elgort looks even more limited when up against folks like Oscar nominee Ariana DeBose and should-be nominees Rachel Zegler and Mike Faist. It’s a shame, because literally everything else Spiely has whipped up works like a charm.
The Best of the Rest
The Card Counter
AJ: Oscar Isaac, Paul Schrader, and a tale about America’s total failure in Iraq? Yeah, this was going to have to try hard to not make my list. What a combination Isaac’s barely bridled, simmering rage is for a story about the utter depravity of Abu Ghraib prison and how that is reflected, like a mirror image, by moral bankruptcy at home. As with First Reformed, Schrader doesn’t sugarcoat things, suggesting there is no way back from this, given the denialism baked in to our culture.
CODA
AJ: Film Twitter hates this film for things that have absolutely nothing to do with it - because of how it might be regarded by the deeply flawed Academy. Ignore that body for a second (or maybe more), and what you have is a small, mostly familiar tale that is spun with heart and an abiding respect for its characters. Sure, it might be trite, but it is filled with the tonally appropriate pathos for one of the best coming-of-age films in recent memory.
Drive My Car
SC: The opening credits roll 45 minutes into Drive My Car, which made me squeal like a little kid. You mean all this setup was a PROLOGUE?! Thus begins Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s lengthy character study about theater, culture, loss, and the power of redemptive art. In particular, a scene where two characters discuss a cheating spouse has stuck with me; one person’s heartbreak at being betrayed is another person’s lament that he could never have this woman for more than one night. Life is all about perspective, and Drive My Car strives to depict other people’s experiences in glorious, painstaking detail.
Dune
AJ: Apologies in advance for this, but Dune was like water in the desert if you, like me, crave blockbuster fare that isn’t emotionally and developmentally arrested (read: almost all of Marvel Studios’ output). It’s quite a thing to make the scope and scale of interplanetary, politically driven fantasy feel new, and non-derivative, but Denis Villeneuve did it. Pass the spice. I’m ready for the sequel.
The French Dispatch
AJ: In my book, this is Wes Anderson’s best film in a good long time - certainly since Moonrise Kingdom, but maybe even going back further. What works? Well, if I may be so bold, the vignette style keeps the film feeling vibrant and keeps Wes out of the ruts that, for me, have made his more recent fare second tier. Bill Murray’s line that “however you go about it, try to make it sound like you wrote it on purpose” is quite a statement about this entry in Anderson’s filmography.
The Green Knight
SC: This feels a little like 2021’s forgotten film; it came out in July, when COVID-19 had subsided but many people remained wary about going to theaters. It still made $19 million, not bad for a fantastical drama during a pandemic but not enough to stick as a cultural conversation piece. Which is a shame, because it’s a remarkable movie. David Lowery is a visual master, from the design of the titular knight to the pure hunkyness he coaxed out of star Dev Patel. And let’s not forget about Sean Harris rocking the house as an elderly King Arthur with a raspy whisper, a far cry from the other Arthurs we’ve seen but a perfect fit for Lowery’s vision.
A Hero
AJ: Absolutist conceptions of honor that stretch back centuries and a modern world where, thanks to social media, everyone has a “brand” to maintain are an absolutely terrible mix. Asghar Farhadi leaves you deliriously confused by the morals and morality of the characters in his film, which is pretty great because, y’know, humanity. The texture of human beings - the flaws and failings and possibilities - don’t fit neatly in to structures and systems that are reductive. A Hero explains why.
Judas and the Black Messiah
SC: Yes, this was nominated for several Academy Awards last year. It was also released on HBO Max in February 2021, and we’ve made it very clear on this site that we don’t care for the Oscars and their “rules.” Logistics aside, it would be a crime not to include it; Daniel Kaluuya and Lakeith Stanfield give two of the year’s best performances, and the finale -- despite it being a true story with a very telegraphed endgame -- is a genuine gut punch. Writer-director Shaka King has put together an amazing first feature, nailing all the little things that make city-based crime dramas great and letting Kaluuya and the subject matter do the more subversive work for him. I can’t wait to see what he does next.
The Lost Daughter
AJ: No film, including Titane, made me feel more uncomfortable than Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut, which gives us Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley striking right at the heart of the myths of parenthood, and, more specifically, motherhood. It meanders and it may introduce a few too many unneeded plot threads, but at its heart is a mirror, held up to us parents, and especially us husbands, about just how unglamorous, unsatisfying, and unsettling being a mother can be. It, uh, makes you think. The thoughts aren’t happy ones, but they are important.
Mass
SC: Surely the least-seen movie on this list, which is a shame. I only sat down to watch it after absorbing months of light chatter about “that filmed play about a school shooting.” It is indeed that; it’s also an actor’s delight and the best four-hander in recent memory, with Jason Isaacs, Martha Plimpton, Ann Dowd, and Reid Birney all getting their moment in the sun. I had tears streaming down my face for nearly all of Mass’s final hour, fully sucked in by the emotion resonating from every actor and the intensity of their many layered conversations. If you’re the kind of film fan who gets giddy when an actor visually gears up for their next monologue, this one’s for you.
The Matrix Resurrections
SC: Yep, the fourth Matrix movie is the best blockbuster of 2021. Sorry, Dune, F9, Shang-Chi and the rest; you’re all fun, but I was fully won over by this incredibly introspective sequel and its attempts to reckon with its own existence. I understand why some moviegoers moaned when a character references Warner Bros. I know the action is a far cry from Reloaded and even Revolutions. But I saw this in theaters and the excitement was palpable; you could tell who was disappointed and who was enthralled, and I was obviously among the latter. I think Keanu Reeves does exquisite work; I think Jessica Henwick deserves trophies. I mostly think Lana Wachowski found a unique way to go back to The Matrix without embarrassing herself or tainting its legacy. That is worth celebrating.
Pig
AJ: A John Wick-Phantom Thread fusion starring the underappreciated Nicolas Cage as the broken, truffle-hunting gourmand is, well, catnip for me. I’d dig around in the dirt for this sort of film. Cage and camp might have an unbreakable bond, but he’s still a very capable leading man, the kind that can convince you a hunt for a pig is a very serious thing.
Titane
SC: By far my most striking theater experience of 2021 was seeing Titane. There’s car fucking. There are firefighter dance parties. There’s Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon giving two of the best performances of the year. Writer-director Julia Ducournau is an absolute force to be reckoned with; her debut Raw was provocative and wild, and Titane takes those adjectives to a whole new level. But it’s not shocking just to shock; somehow these wild scenarios and desperate characters are built upon real, understandable emotions. It’s not for everyone, but if you’re into something twisted yet profound, there’s so much to love.
The Worst Person in the World
SC: Obviously the best rom-com-dram of the year comes from Norway. It’s the kind of mid-tier movie that the U.S. has largely left behind: an intimate, dark, funny look at relationships that feels both universal and tied to right now. Renate Reinsve does incredible work as the on-again, off-again titular worst person, her status largely depending on the person she’s dating and the situation she’s in. It captures sensations we’ve all felt before: feeling stuck, longing for freedom, being selfish, losing yourself in a romantic moment. And unlike many other films, it gives us both those moments and their slow aftermath. Relationships are full of peaks and valleys, many of which are self-inflicted, and writer-director Joachim Trier lets his characters’ impulsive choices and laments play out for us all to absorb and dissect as we will.