The Top Eleven Films of 2021
*Update (2/6/22)- I recently saw one of my list of shame entries, which has forced me to retroactively include it on my list. As a result, this has now become a Top 11 as I decided to keep the write up for the former number 10 posted on this site. I have also made some revisions for grammar and layout.
11. The Last Duel (dir. Ridley Scott)
This underperforming drama was this year’s most pleasant surprise. On paper, a medieval French set costume drama starring bro-stars Matt Damon and Ben Affleck sounds like a joke barely more plausible than the Good Will Hunting 2 parody in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. However, in the hands of director Ridley Scott and screenwriters Affleck, Damon, and Nicole Holofcener), this fascinating story is a thoughtful critique on toxic masculinity and an unfortunate reminder that misogyny’s historic roots are deep.
After gallant knight Jean de Carrouges’ (Damon) wife Margueritte (Jodie Comer) is sexually assaulted by squire Jacques Le Gris (Adam Driver), they are ordered to duel to the death. Yet, it is Margueritte who has more at stake, facing possible execution and orphaning her son by simply telling the truth. Scott and company use the classic Rashômon narrative style, telling the central story from three different perspectives. However, rather than focusing on their differences, these perspectives instead provide even more clarity towards Le Gris’ guilt and Margueritte’s innocence, making the court’s dismissal of her later even more horrifying. In the end, it shows that men are willing to fight more for their own pride than their wives’ rights with unfortunate frequency. Old fashioned in craft but progressive in thought, The Last Duel is an enthralling and well produced morality tale.
10. The Green Knight (dir. David Lowery)
This film could have coasted on its majestic production design, special effects, and make up alone. Ironically, it’s actually the uneventfulness of the story that makes it one of the more fascinating adventure fantasies in years. Based on the Arthurian legend, the Green Knight (Ralph Ineson) makes a deal with Sir Gawain (Dev Patel): if Gawain lands a blow on the Green Knight, one year later he must travel a long distance to receive an equal blow (in this case, decapitation) from the Knight in retribution.
Usually, epics of this scale focus on the hero’s journey, the triumphs that overcome evil and lead to greatness. However, Lowery chooses to focus on Gawain’s lack of greatness. As he muddles through his journey, his ironic discovery is his own mediocrity. Walking through a land of literal giants (who look amazing, by the way), he realizes just how small he is. Though it takes a big beautiful journey (on the road and in his head) to realize it, his most noble actions are his own reflections of inadequacy. However, with its elegant illustration of this epiphany, the film is anything but.
9. The Beta Test (dir. Jim Cummings and P.J. McCabe)
Jim Cummings seems like this generation’s next incarnation of Jim Carrey, and not just because they share the same first name and last initial. Like Carrey, Cummings has a gift for histrionic physical comedy. He uses his whole body and face in ways that film actors rarely do, and is more likely to go to 11 than embrace any kind of subtlety.
Unlike Carrey (who is a solid dramatic actor when playing against his comedic instincts), Cummings has the unique talent of endowing his over the top style with a sense of genuine emotion that reads like it is uncontrollably bursting out of him. His presence is as sincere as it is hilarious. He is a one of a kind talent, and, luckily, his work behind the camera is just as audacious, if not more so.
After two fine break out features (Thunder Road and The Wolf of Snow Hollow), he is back with The Beta Test (co-directed by PJ McCabe), which tells the story of a Hollywood agent who receives an anonymous invitation for an equally anonymous sexual encounter, putting him in a dark world of murder and mystery. The thriller elements are intense, and the social commentary of toxic males held prisoner by their own libido could not be more clear. However, Cummings and McCabe’s material still rises above its schlocky premise. The result is a satire about a man so immersed in such a serious situation, the audience can’t help but simultaneously laugh and cringe as he tries to squirm his way out of it.
8. Petite Maman (dir. Celine Sciamma)
After coming off one of the best and most important films in a decade with Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Celine Sciamma is back with what could be considered a trifle in a comparison, but is anything but. Her less than 80 minute follow-up centers on eight year old Marion’s (Gabrielle Sanz) fledgling friendship with another little girl Nelly (her real life twin sister Josephine) as she continues to occupy the house of her recently deceased grandmother.
The film plays like a magic realist journey through memory. While her mother’s grief drives her to leave town, Marion explores the terrain of her mother’s childhood, finding the wonder her mother once had so far removed from the burden of tragedy.
As both girls are played by real life twins, the film suggests that their resemblance is familial and Nelly might even be some manifestation of Marion’s mother. Sciamma’s past films (which also include Girlhood, Water Lilies, and Tomboy) all deal with female characters learning who they are through a finite bond with another girl/woman. This lovely portrait does the same; even if they change over the years, the feeling of who they once were will always be there. This portrait may not be on fire, but it is warm enough to stave away the cold of this present world.
7. Tick, Tick. . . Boom! (dir. Lin Manuel Miranda)
With live theatre still largely inaccessible throughout much of the year, musicals took to the screen in a remarkable comeback in 2021. So much so, in fact, that the delightful In the Heights not only fell short of being the best musical this year, it wasn’t even the best Lin Manuel Miranda film project this year. That distinction belongs to Miranda’s directorial film debut Tick, Tick. . . Boom, adapted from a small scale autobiographical chamber musical by late Rent composer Jonathan Larson.
It isn’t the most relatable story: a struggling 29 year old white male artist struggles to break through as a relevant musical re composer at the expense of his friends and lover. Regardless, Miranda opens up the story beautifully to be uniquely cinematic. He balances straight forward dramatic recreation, concert performance, and fully realized/choreographed music numbers that spring from Larson’s delusions of grandeur. (In fact, the soundtrack is so good that repeat listening ruined my partner’s Spotify recommendations algorithm.)
Miranda also manages the trickiest of tightropes as he juxtaposes divergent tones, particularly in the sequence “Therapy”. This sequence fluidly flashes between a serious conversation between Larson (Andrew Garfield) and his partner Susan (Alexandra Shipp) and a delightful country vaudeville act between Garfield and Vanessa Hudgens on the same theme. Miranda brilliantly illustrates Larson’s coping mechanism of creating cathartic comedy instead of confronting an uncomfortable reality.
However, this would all be for naught without a formidable actor in the lead role, and they get that in spades with Garfield. He rises to the occasion for the more theatrical aspects of the film, but commits with just as much urgency to the film’s more introspective moments as well. He truly is the total package here. Add one more triumph to Garfield’s already remarkable year.
6. Red Rocket (dir. Sean Baker)
Likeability is in the eye of the beholder, yet certain traits (selfishness, insensitivity, rampant dishonesty, etc.) are objectively despicable. So, what makes washed up porn star Mikey Saber (objectively well performed by former MTV VJ Simon Rex) so easy to root for over two straight hours?
As selfish and dishonest as they get, Mikey is passionate in everything he pursues, whether it’s crime, love, friendship, or relevancy. (Think of a puppy that sweetly hops around an area rug, accidentally peeing in excitement, disgusting slobber in tow.) Mikey returns to his hometown of Texas City once his porn career fizzles, flopping on the one couch that still might be open to him: his ex-(well, technically current) wife’s (theatre actress Bree Elrod).
Director Sean Baker (Tangerine, The Florida Project) has always told stories about American misfits with personalities starkly contrasting with whatever mundane setting they find themselves in. He ups the ante here with Mikey, who’s simultaneously a down-on-his-luck loser and a magnetic, fast-talking charmer. He dispenses laugh-out-loud dialogue and physicality in the film's many 1-2 minute vignettes, edited together like an elegant jigsaw puzzle. As a director, Baker brings in his signature long shots of Texas City’s locales, showing beauty in the humble surroundings, and highlighting the atmosphere with pastel colors, covering the cracked sidewalks beneath them.
5. Spencer (dir. Pablo Larrain)
Some films just seem designed to win awards. Take a famous person, add a handsome star, stir them together, and BOOM! You have two months of Variety ads leading to the Academy Awards and a 5% uptick in VOD rentals. Such ads surely exist for this biopic of the late Princess Diana, but this is not your run of the mill Oscar bait spanning the life of its subject. Instead, director Pablo Larrain (who explored similar territory with the 2016 biopic Jackie) firmly plants the action on Christmas day isolated in time as well as setting, focusing on an isolated country estate, where the titular Princess of Wales (a never better Kristen Stewart) feels as lost in her crumbling marriage as she did on the road to get to this estate.
Larrain trades kitchen sink realism for gothic psychological horror where Princess Diana feels trapped in a loveless society obsessed with tradition, continuously distancing from her life as the ordinary “Diana Spencer”. She is haunted by the ghosts from the past, from the exploited queen Anne Boleyn to the eerie presence of her childhood farm, mere kilometers away. The film also finds a tenderness between her and her sons playing parlour games, even indulging in fantasies that hover between revisionist history and delusional hallucinations. Her iconic outfits are characters unto themselves, constructed out of (figuratively) constraining fabric. However, no matter how fanciful the film may be, it never loses focus of its ultimate goal: to portray Diana as a real person with a last name (it’s the title!), not just a distant persona idolized on commemorative plates.
4. The Souvenir: Part II (dir. Joanna Hogg)
Joanna Hogg’s 2019 indie critical hit The Souvenir is an unlikely film to spawn a sequel in a world where “Part 2” is nearly a translation for “cash grab”. However, this feels less like a sequel and more like a response to the original, which film student Julie (Honor Swinton Byrne) does literally.
When the fraught relationship with her lover ends with his death, Julie begins to process his death through her student film thesis project. While the first film observes love, this one observes grief.
For artists, grief can be the catalyst for profound creativity, as well as a catharsis that recontextualizes unresolved issues. This film runs with this idea and creates a fascinating metaworld where Julie projects her feelings of loss onto actors and collaborators in order to control the situations in ways she wasn’t able to in reality, even taking them to fantastic levels. Director Hogg often forces perspectives through small openings in the set of the film within a film to show that memory is often funneled by the many interpretations in the mind and in art. The astounding final shot reminds the viewers that even the most real experiences exist as artificial reimaginings in people’s heads.
3. Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn (dir. Radu Jude)
The last few years have felt a little off for great comedies. That streak is dramatically broken with one of the most daring and delightful satires in years. The Romian pandemic set film starts out with a bang in every sense of the word with an authentic looking sex tape seemingly ripped straight from Pornhub. The star of such video is not an adult film star but a highly regarded school teacher Emi (Katia Pascariu), who, upon a devious uploading of the material, now has to fight to keep her job as well as her own right to privacy.
The first act of the film adopts concepts from slow cinema masters like Tsai Ming-liang and Apichatpong Weerasethakul with socially distant wide shots following Emi through urban Bucharest. There is a sense that she is being watched and always will be from now on. That distance makes even more sense as the film leads up to a delightful parent/teacher meeting (yes, you read that right) set outdoors, socially distant against Roman inspired pillars and neon lights. These two parts sandwich a middle segment devoted to a cinematic glossary of sorts, subjectively defining the film’s key terms through memorable quotations and dramatic reenactments. Director Jude has created something truly unique, neither too pedantic for its social commentary nor too goofy to be written off (except for maybe the very end).
2. Licorice Pizza (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)
“Less is more” is an artistic philosophy that both applies and contrasts to the Paul Thomas Anderson style. On one hand, the great filmmaker can make interesting cinema with thin premises and simple setups. On the other hand, Anderson’s films never feel simple. They are not mere verite slices of life. They are idiosyncratic and heightened just enough to distort reality but connect to it just as well.
This dichotomy has never worked as well as it does with his latest masterwork: a coming of the age story reflected in a funhouse mirror. Teenage actor Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman, whose charisma is even more natural than his father’s) tries to accelerate his maturation as an entrepreneur for several gonzo businesses and romantic conquest of Alana (Alana Haim, another dynamite breakthrough), a San Fernando Valley 25 year old stuck in the milieu of the age-old question “What am I going to do with my life?”
While there has been some controversy on the appropriateness of the age gap between these two misfits, the film seems less focused on telling a conventional love story, focusing more on the strength of their platonic bond. Gary’s desperation to be perceived as an adult actually reveals the many ways in which he lacks maturity, whereas Alana’s opportunities for maturity becomes apparent in contrast. Many whimsical adventures tear them apart but then pull them back together over the film’s two hours, but what could have been an obnoxious and crass studio comedy impressively becomes a wry and dreamy jaunt through the San Fernando Valley in the 70’s. The pitch perfect command of the camera and chemistry of the stars make this the most gratifying narrative picture of the year.
And the best film of 2021 is. . .
1. Faya Dayi (dir. Jessica Beshir)
There is so much social commentary at the core of Jessica Beshir’s marvelous debut documentary feature. Themes of poverty, addiction, coming of age, government corruption, gender, love etc. are all present in some way in every frame as it follows a small Sufi Muslim village in Ethiopia that relies on Khat (a stimulant plant that causes euphoria and intoxication) as both a commodity and a distraction.
However, this is not a mere case of objective journalism. Beshir also captures the majestic beauty of the rural hilltop town of Harar in Ethiopia, and, in rich black and white cinematography, creates the most stunning imagery of the last year. Chewing Khat is said to bring one to an intense state of peace and meditation, and the imagery experienced by users is described as “watching a movie”. This becomes literal as Beshir brings this psychedelic experience to stunning life, showing why Khat is such a cherished resource to the Sufis, while also acknowledging the danger the addictive plant has on people and the community.
For instance, in contrast to showing that these characters lost in their own troubles, we find them “lost” in a longshot in a valley with their reflections serenely floating on a lake.
The film’s dreamy approach puts the audience at peace instead of eliciting outrage at the problems in this community. An astonishing sequence in an old movie theater (with a young boy unraveling a film reel) demonstrates a key to survival: relishing the current beauty surrounding them. With so many experimental films working hard to test an audience’s patience, Faya Dayi asks them to lay back instead of lean forward. This is the most mesmerizing film of the year.
Top Ten Fun Facts:
Best Reviewed (according to Metacritic): Petite Maman, score of 94
Worst Reviewed (according to Metacritic): The Last Duel, score of 67
Longest Running Time: The Last Duel - 152 minutes
Shortest Running Time: Petite Maman- 72 minutes
Highest Recorded Domestic Box Office Gross- The Green Knight- $17,173,321
Lowest Recorded Domestic Box Office Gross- The Beta Test- $30,520
Films Directed by Women: 3 (Petite Maman, Faya Dayi, The Souvenir Part II)
Films I saw in Theaters- 9 (only watched Tick, Tick. . . Boom! and Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn at home)
Theaters I Saw Them In-
Faya Dayi- Gene Siskel Film Center
Licorice Pizza- Music Box
Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn- Virtual Cinema
The Souvenir Part II- Landmark Century Cinema
Spencer- Landmark Century Cinema
Red Rocket- AMC River East 21
Tick, Tick . . . Boom!- Netflix at home
Petite Maman- AMC River East 21
The Beta Test- AMC River East 21
The Green Knight- Music Box
The Last Duel- Regal Webster Place 11
Biopics- 3 (The Last Duel, Spencer, Tick, Tick. . . Boom!)
Films in a Foreign Language- 3 (Petite Maman [French], Faya Dayi [Oromifa]), Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn [Romanian])
Runner’s Up (not in any order)
Beginning
Spiderman: No Way Home
Passing
Drive My Car
Dune
Pig
Memoria
The French Dispatch
C’mon C’mon
Annette
Benedetta
The Disciple
Days
Titane
Quo Vadis Aida
The Lost Daughter
Parallel Mothers
The Tragedy of MacBeth
Identifying Features
Zola
Night of the Kings
West Side Story
Procession
Mass
Just Don’t Think I’ll Scream
All Light, Everywhere
107 Mothers
Ema
Nobody
List of Shame; Acclaimed Movies I Missed, But Will See Soon
Bergman Island
Azor
Velvet Underground
The Killing of Two Lovers
I’m Your Man
State Funeral
A Hero
Summertime
Special Prize: Great Film Segments of the Year
Image from “Night Colonies” from The Year of the Everlasting Storm
“There is No Evil” from There is No Evil (dir. Mohammad Rasoulof)
Mohammad Rasoulof’s omnibus film tells four stories critical of the death penalty in Iran. All are solid, but the first tale, sharing its title with the film overall, is unforgettable. It starts off as an amiable slice of life in the tradition of contemporary Iranian masters. It follows a middle aged man as he drives from work to pick up his family, go to the grocery store, help rescue a cat, visit his in laws, etc. But the film takes a stirring turn when he returns to work by the end of the film, culminating in a final image that forces the audience to rethink everything they thought about this man before. It’s difficult not to project the film’s tagline to early moments, but Rasoulof does create an interesting neorealist world early on that establishes a truthful perspective of the Iranian middle class. It, in and of itself, is watchable and enthralling. It needs to be in order to make the proper impact at the end.
“Night Colonies” (dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul) from The Year of the Everlasting Storm
Weerasethakul’s feature film Memoria was rightly the film of his that received the most acclaim and attention last year (high runner up for this list as well). However, his short film in this overwise uneven anthology about the pandemic and subsequent lockdown resonates even more. The experimental “Night Colonies” features a mattress infested with noisy insects below bright fluorescent lights underscored by mysterious radio communications. The imagery is hard to shake, and the occasional close ups and camera movements prevent it from becoming too static. Thinking about it in the context of the pandemic, it evokes those feelings of isolation at home, where safe places feel intruded. It could also portray the places we abandoned when we were forced to be shut away. Weerasethakul is infamous for slow, leisurely static shots, but at only 14 minutes long, it never gets tedious. That being said, had it been a feature length film, it might have been the best of the year.
“Door Wide Open” from Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
Ryusuke Hamaguchi has had one of the best years a filmmaker can ask for, breaking through to international audiences with not one but two features. The excellent Drive My Car (high runner up to this list) is a quietly epic film on grief and artistic expression while Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy is far less epic as it is three different stories on the nature of love. The last story “Once Again” is too cloying and precious while the first story "Magic (or Something Less Assuring)" is too meandering and undefined. The middle story "Door Wide Open", however, gets it just right. It starts with eavesdropping on a moment of uncomfortable prostration between a student and professor, which eventually leads to the student’s girlfriend Nao’s attempt to honey trap the professor. The meat of the film showcases this scene as Nao subtly manipulates the professor with measured readings of his sexually profane novel, captivating him more than titillating him. The title refers to the standard policy of a professor’s office: doors should always be open when meeting with someone individually. Hamaguchi interestingly asks the audience whether any harm is actually being done, and if it is by anyone even present. An ambiguous but telling last scene shows how Nao could capitalize on this even further. Had the other parts of this film been as complex, it would have been one of the best of the year.
Most Underrated
Shadow in the Cloud
There is a fine line between unbearable ridiculousness and sublime ridiculousness. The latter category usually produces something that’s “so bad it’s good”. This impressive debut by Roseanne Liang was dumped directly to streamers in January (pre-vaccine), but for all its histrionics, it manages to be both fun and well executed. There aren’t many other films out there willing to set a third of its runtime in a small enclosed space only to open it up to a full on airborne creature feature.
But this isn’t just mindless fun. This is a film with a strong female lead (Chloe Grace Moretz), constantly battling the toxic male voices in the first part of the film before fighting off a toxic creature in the second, all while (SPOILER ALERT) caring for her young infant that she brought onboard. Seeing as this was resurrected from a script from the disgraced Max Landis, it’s even more impressive that this out-of-control genre piece deftly addresses feminist ideas so straightforwardly.
Most Overrated
The Mitchells vs. the Machines
The movie is cute for sure, but to have been lauded by so many critics and even topping (let alone making) so many year end lists, I would have expected the second coming of Miyazaki by way of early Pixar. Instead, this film offers standard character design, predictable plot, and jokes that seemed like they were gleaned from the writing room wastebasket of Big Hero Six. Even Katie Mitchell’s DIY short films feel derivative of quirky live action indie films, and probably would have received more eye rolls than raves if the film were live action itself. Also, the film’s message of being wary of technology and returning to analog feels a bit hollow when this CG film not only could not have existed without such technology, it would have never been seen as a Netflix exclusive. As a trifle to watch with the whole family, it accomplishes its modest goals. Just don’t expect anything profound.
Most Pleasant Surprise
Pig
I still would have seen Pig if it were the big pile of shit everyone assumed it would be (I’m a sucker for all movies Cage and swine). Instead, it was 2021’s first great film. The premise is flat out ridiculous: a decorated chef lives isolated in the woods with his truffle pig, who is kidnapped by lords of the Portland underground fine dining and produce suppliers cartel. Yet director Michael Sarnoski lets his characters inhabit this strange world rather than stylize it, playing it straight with an underlying tenderness and empathy usually bereft of genre pics. Nicolas Cage may not be particularly selective about what he appears in these days, but this film shows just how nuanced and introspective of an actor he can be in the right project. Not since Kermit has a love of a pig felt this sincere.
Worst of the Year
Matrix: Resurrections
I always preface this entry with the disclaimer that there are probably worse films released last year that I gracefully avoided. Still, I can’t stress enough how much of a drag this fourth entry of the perpetually diminishing film series is, trans allegory aside. It seems irresponsible that a film could spend this much time and energy on exposition but still feel so aimless and inchoate at the same time. Even its action sequences feel like they are reaching for profundity that is just not there. Defenders have noted that this is a sincere genuine middle-aged love story rather than an epic adventure, but the bizarre lack of chemistry between the two leads or any reason why they connect gives the audience nothing to root for. This is a series that likes to announce how important its characters and story are instead of showing it. It's time to put it out to pasture.
