#glaswegians out here acting like it’s burns night

[olliefilm]

Films of the Decade (20 - 11)

What can be said with the utmost confidence is that the quality of film has not slackened. Every now and again, some curmudgeon will grumble that film “is not the same”, “not what it used to be”, “not like the classics”. Oh puff, it will continue to sustain and challenge. Always has, always will. The one ultimate takeaway from this decade is that of how film is seen. By the end of this year, Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman will be released on Netflix, thus proving financial carte-blanche for already established filmmakers is now available outside of the giant studios. Streaming is happening and next year the Disney juggernaut will follow suit with their own service - truly a new, somewhat unnerving era. 

So in revealing my favourite films of the past decade, let’s celebrate the glut of amazing work these last ten years have produced. The list honorable mentions would stretch the circumference of the Earth, but I was close to including: Kathryn Bigelow’s nail-biting Zero Dark Thirty, Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s slow-burn procedural drama Once Upon A Time in Anatolia, the colonial fever dream that is Zama, Todd Haynes’ lush Carol, Leviathan and its biblical injustices, Gianfranco Rosi’s quasi-documentary Fire at Sea, the lip-smacking Raw, and Debra Granik’s outstanding Leave No Trace. Not to mention the countless animated features and documentaries which show no signs of letting up. Here’s to the bar being raised forever more as we sit in the dark.

20. Locke

If there is one film this decade for which the weight was placed entirely on the shoulders of one actor to make it work, it is Tom Hardy in Locke. Essentially, it’s about a man trying to “fix” things over the phone while driving at night. Ultimately, his professional and personal life is obliterating around him, all due to a silly one-night stand. What we hear are voices bombarding the tiny space of a car. What we register as an audience is down to the brilliance of Tom Hardy. It is a role many actors would relish and go to town, but Hardy’s performance is introspective, collected, yet far from calm. Locke would work brilliantly as a radio play, but what is also impressive is how it genuine it feels someone driving through the night; from the smooth humming of the company car to the amber lights overhead. It lends a crushing air of solitude.

19. Song of the Sea

Animation has been the most consistently reliable form of media over many decades. The bar is so high, that I honestly struggled to pick one for this list. I floundered between the ingenius of Pixar’s Inside Out, Isao Takahata’s beautiful swansong The Tale of Princess Kaguya, the jaw-dropping sweep of The Red Turtle, the laugh-riot of The Lego Movie, the list truly goes on. One film left me inconsolable with floods of tears, and that was Tom Moore’s Song of the Sea. It is a film soaked in folklore, but it doesn’t fall into the trap of being twee. There is wave upon wave of gorgeous animation being reinforced by themes of family grief, brotherly responsibility and heartbroken spite. Song of the Sea defines a terrific balance many animated films achieved this decade: sublime artwork matching exceptional storytelling. 

18. Dreams of a Life

British documentaries continued the up-and-up throughout the 2010s. It was tough to decide between Clio Bernard’s innovative The Arbor, Asif Kapadia’s poignant Amy, the lovingly delicate Notes on Blindness and the compelling A Syrian Love Story. What Carol Morley manages to do with Dreams of a Life is bring poetic legitimacy to a heartbreakingly lonesome death: Joyce Carol Vincent wrapping presents in front of the TV, she dies suddenly, and is not found for another three years. The interviews with various friends and distant family confirms Joyce’s presence in the world, but the recreations provide her a body and soul so sorely deserved.

17. Under The Skin

There is a tragic forgone conclusion with Under The Skin. The interpretations are plentiful: is it a feminist discourse on male attraction? Alien alienation? Or the destructive nature of human beauty? Director Jonathan Glazer uses the recognisable star power of Scarlett Johansson to plunge her in the grit. She is an alien entity who scouts her prey on the Glaswegian streets. At first she obliterates the characteristic lustful male, then the lines shudder and blur. Her objective becomes lost and she wanders into the Highlands. Even if you don’t buy the meanings behind Under The Skin, it is a striking audiovisual exercise. Not least of all, Mica Levi’s haunting and quivering score.

16. Girlhood

Is it asking for trouble to include two ‘Hoods’ in amongst the pack (spoiler) ? Cèline Sciamma is one of the best female directors to come out of this decade (look out for the sublime Portrait of a Lady on Fire this year). Her ebullient compassion for her teenage subjects against the Banlieue is why Girlhood is a powerful entry in the already-reputable French social-realism subgenre. Where there is roughness there are some thrilling interludes of joy. In particular, one scene with the gang of friends dancing in a hotel room with stolen goods, all set to the affirming “Diamonds” by Rhianna. Sciamma knows how to capture the vibe of a moment of happiness and let it flower. It makes social realism less a one-note descent into collapse. It takes a knowing and deft hand to pull that off.

15. Paddington 2

Paddington has all the charm and playfulness of a well-crafted pantomime. Paddington 2 visually represents that perfectly through flip-book canvases, which pull back like a colourful and jaunty set change. What is lovely is how first film was a sigh of relief. In other words, Paddington as a beloved literary character has not only been untainted, but it has been brought so cleverly up-to-scratch. The warmth of its message about inclusiveness and family is nothing terribly new, but Paddington has so much heart to back it up. Comedically, the films pack just the right amount of innuendo and silent cinema show pieces, to make this sort of humour seem so fresh. Paddington 2 refines the winning formula.

14. Force Majeure

Force Majeure is about a family going on a skiing trip. The family are initially mundane in how well-maintained they are. They are financially stable, brush their teeth in a squeaky clean bathroom with their electric toothbrushes, and the children are all kitted up. However in one riveting long still shot, the solid family unit is doomed. It is the fallout of that one event and the marital crumbling which makes Ruben Östlund’s Force Majeure deliciously tense. Better yet, it makes one want to watch that one event again. Is the father’s one instinctive act a true reveal of his selfish character, or is it something worth forgiving in the heat of the moment? There are no sturdy answers and that is the consequence of a fleeting act.

13. You Were Never Really Here

Lynne Ramsay’s You Were Never Really Here is a psychological revenge drama in which the revenge is achingly taken away from Joaquin Phoenix’s contract killer and us as an audience. It is a film about trauma. The scenes of violence are either jolting or they are exhaustively unsatisfactory; that is how realistically it is portrayed. One scene in particular robs us of a clear picture of how violence plays out. Like Phoneix’s Joe, we are left with a cold sweat. Revenge is an unhealthy picture through and through. Ramsay makes us feel the discomfort and the lack of glory, at odds with what we are so used to seeing these days.

12. A Separation

A Separation is a constant roll-out of trail and consequence. The ‘separation’ has formally commenced in the opening scene. The couple addresses the camera with pleas and arguments. The judge they’re speaking to has a line waiting outside with couples in a similar predicament, but we’re dealing with one. The film presents the separation like a case study, and it continues to be gripping and emotionally charged throughout. Director Ashgar Farhadi scrutinises our judgement of these characters, for there is always one morsel of information that leaves us second guessing. In the end, the film is tragic because there is no right and wrong. What is clever about A Separation is that, whilst there is a steady underlying context which points towards Iranian society, it is a borderless film. 

11. O.J. Made In America

“There’s no more powerful a narrative in American society than race”. O.J.: Made in America charts a monumental rise-and-fall narrative like no other. For the good part of 467 minutes, there is a wicked absurdity in how the American Dream is favoured and unstable. Ezra Edelman’s charting of O.J. Simpsons’ career, lifestyle and persona is set very knowingly against the relentless chronicle of racial injustice and poverty. It makes re-living the already well-documented murder trial gut-wrenching and compelling all over again. O.J.: Made in America is already touted as one of the best sports documentaries since Hoop Dreams. Like Hoop Dreams, it is little to do with sports, it is about everything around it.

#best films #decade #2010s film #favourite #movies