Stefan de Villiers’s Top Ten Films of 2019

A good year for movies, though I haven’t come close to seeing everything I wanted to get to. Notable exceptions to my viewing log include An Elephant Sitting Still and Portrait of a Lady on Fire. I’m also yet to see Jojo Rabbit, but don’t believe that it would’ve broken into this list. I don’t have many honorable mentions to give, but I’d encourage everyone to go see Burning Cane and Apollo 11 if they haven’t yet. Very solid films.

10. Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach, 2019)

I’ve only ever seen three Baumbach films (Frances Ha, Kicking and Screaming, and this), but none of them have really blown me away. Frances is interesting, but I also find her kind of obnoxious. The graduates are funny and fatalist, but they’re also so pathetic. Charlie and Nicole are well-developed, but everyone around them (Dern and Liotta in particular) just seem like caricatures. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy Marriage Story. It’s my favorite Baumbach so far. I’ve probably watched the “Being Alive” scene upwards of 17 times and Adam Driver absolutely works his usual magic throughout. It’s just that I didn’t really buy into the absurdity of going through divorce that Baumbach tries to portray. Maybe I should break up with someone and then watch this again.

You can read Maddie McDougall’s full review of Marriage Story here.

9. Waves (Trey Edwards Schults, 2019)

I said in my Letterboxd review that this film is less than the sum of its parts. Moments of this film (like THAT scene and then a lot of others) blew my mind. Moments were downright frustrating, but to its credit, Shults stays creative throughout. He masterfully commands a plot structure that I’ve seen employed in other films with much less finesse. He uses a dizzying array of aspect ratios, without it ever seeming like a gimmick. And he knows exactly how to whale away at the audience’s stomachs and their hearts, without ever going too far. I’m a sucker for the music too.

You can read Rohan Patel’s rull review of Waves here.

8. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)

This isn’t the Scorsese of Mean Streets, Goodfellas, or The Departed. This is a Scorsese who’s growing older and who lets his experience influence his art. Power, Old Scorsese says, is not eternal. Humans are ultimately human. Soon we will be gone from this Earth. Yes, it’s still a gangster flick. It still revels in the mean combination of Pacino and De Niro and Pesci and… Ray Romano? But it’s always working towards a message of frailty. The 209-minute runtime is just enough to let us get there on our time. Masterful work. Not my favorite Scorsese, but that’s just because he’s made too many damn good films. Where does he go next?

You can read Ryan Circelli’s full review of The Irishman here.

7. Parasite (Bong Joon-Ho, 2019)

There’s a lot of good things that can be said about this film; most of them have been said already. I’ve heard each of those good things said, and I’ve never disagreed with any of them. And yet, I’m still not blown away. Maybe it has something to do with colossal expectations I had (ranked #1 on Letterboxd all-time) that weren’t entirely fulfilled. Maybe it’s because the first half of the film feels more like a very competent heist movie than anything particularly special. Maybe it’s because I never connected with the characters. I liked the film and I loved its messages about class. I could clearly see The Housemaid’s influence and the theme of the ignored, but it was never my favorite.

You can read Joe Lollo’s full review of Parasite here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Parasite here.

6. The Last Black Man in San Francisco (Joe Talbot, 2019)

What a wonderful bit of cinema. It’s achingly nostalgic, while also intensely hopeful. It’s a film on a very small stage, but the implications it has for identity, home, and belonging are massive and especially relevant right now. It’s filled with the sort of poetic exploration of a city that can only come from its close acquaintance, and its deep affections for San Francisco could make anyone want to move there. As Joe Talbot’s first feature film, it took seven years, unwavering commitment, and faithful support to finally come to the screen. We can only be grateful that it did. There’s a slight bittersweetness in the thought that Talbot may never be as devoted to a film as he was to this one. Let’s pray he dispels that notion soon.

5. Uncut Gems (Josh and Benny Safdie, 2019)

Uncut Gems is miles above Good Time, which is quite a decent movie. It’s unfathomable to me how very deserving this movie and all its players are of awards and how very little recognition they’re getting. It might be just about everything a typical young guy could want in a movie: tension, action, sports, money, gambling, shiny stuff, the underworld, celebrities, gratuitous sexuality, a funny Jewish actor with a penchant for bad comedies, and a breakneck pace. And, it’s all combined brilliantly by Safdie brothers, never feeling cheap or forced. Its sound design is incredible. Adam Sandler is incredible (which we already knew but maybe some of us forgot). That diamond encrusted Furby thing that’s also in the trailer is incredible. Very much fun.

You can read Ryan Circelli’s rull review of Uncut Gems here.

4. 1917 (Sam Mendes, 2019)

Deakins! You beautiful man! What a beautiful thing you’ve done again! It’s the sky lit up by the flame of war, the charge of the doomed soldiers, and the subtle hand required to paint it all in a “single” take. It’s the cinematography that crowns this consequential journey, but that’s not to say that the other features are lacking. 1917 plays like an epic poem, as a young hero fights enemy and affliction in a glorious quest through barren, grief-stricken land. It’s moving and it’s marvelous, but it’s also very accessible. Of every film on this list, I reckon it’s the most likely to become a classic in time, even if it’s not my favorite. What is there not to like? Would you not want to see it again?

You can read Levi Bond’s full review of 1917 here.

3. Synonyms (Navad Lapid, 2019)

The following is excerpted from my Film Club review.
“I am Yoav,” says the naked man lying in the bed, staring up at his strange saviors. “I have nothing anymore.”

We cannot know Yoav. We can only tell that he is unabashedly alive, or another thing like it. Call it life, or urgency, or perhaps even just naive aspiration, it remains a core theme throughout the movie. “Die or conquer the mountain!” [he] exclaims. He internalizes the fight for a free spirit, for individualism. He believes in a French ideal of bravery and initiative and walks the streets with it proudly emblazoned on his chest. He longs to assimilate into his new world.

This semi-biographical story that director Nadav Lapid tells is clearly close to the heart and imbued with emotion. It dances into existence on the screen with an energy reminiscent of the French New Wave. It begs one to think deeply about the conduct of life. It fills one with the crackling sensation of vivacity, then rends one to shreds with the monstrous teeth of despair. It is ever evolving and never constrained by plot or structure. Its characters love with insatiable passion and hate with burning fury. It quietly flirts with beautiful homoeroticism, then playfully jerks back the veil and makes no effort to hide it. And it all plays out with a soundtrack that is simultaneously nostalgic and hopeful, tragic and angelic.

You can read my full review of Synonyms here.

2. The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers, 2019)

Its mythical, magical, morbid, and just plain weird. I loved it. It’s Eggers as only Eggers can do. It’s Robert Pattinson in a very good role and Willem Dafoe in an even better one. It’s seagulls and sorcery and sea creatures and sex. It’s absolutely entrancing and perhaps a little nauseating. It’s impossible to look away. And amidst all that, it finds time for slow, bleak, meaningful cinematography à la Bela Tarr. It’s hypnotic and hilarious and hallucinatory and just a little bit terrifying. It’s something you may remember more as a dream than as an experience, but what an experience it was! I, for one, cannot be more excited for Nosferatu (2023).

You can read PJ Knapke’s full review of The Lighthouse here.

1. A Hidden Life (Terrence Malick, 2019)

There is a place in the mountains where the air is so very pure, and the grass is so perfectly green, and the clouds are beneath you so that it feels just like heaven. Where when you breathe, you breathe the very first breaths of life. The very breaths that inspired the LORD who made the ground your feet sink into. And when you are in that place, you are so filled with love for it and for its people and for the very notion of beauty that you feel you will never again know evil. A Hidden Life is about that place and about its corruption. Death in that place and that place never again; Eden unraveled. I cannot quite describe the film. I remember it not as a memory but as a pain and a terror. This was my first Terrence Malick and it absolutely tore at my soul.

You can read PJ Knapke’s full review of A Hidden Life here.

Madelyn Land’s Top Ten Films of 2019

Where the first half of 2019 was dominated by blockbusters, the second half of 2019 showcased deep, complex, intriguing filmmaking. With so much more attention being paid to women and people of color directing films, we’re seeing an expanding perspective on the world. Additionally, some of the best films of this year were international films, from established auteurs like Bong Joon-ho and Céline Sciamma to newcomers like Mati Diop. Some honorable mentions include Anima and I am Easy to Find, two short films that complemented their respective musician’s albums beautifully. On top of that, I said goodbye to a franchise that defined my childhood with Toy Story 4. While you can check out my full 2019 ranked list on my Letterboxd, here are my top ten films of 2019.

10. Honey Boy (Alma Har’el, 2019)

Honey Boy is an emotional, delicate, and impressive film about Shia LaBeouf’s childhood, a film with incredibly real performances from Noah Jupe and Shia LeBeouf. There are moments where I thought I was watching LeBeouf himself from Lucas Hedges’ performance. An incredible score, incredibly imaginative moments of cinematography, and strong direction from Alma Har’el. You can feel LeBeouf’s pain in his screenplay, and it’s impressive how this effort comes off ego-free. This film works so well, from our first introduction to Otis (Lucas Hedges) literally being pushed and pulled around by stunts on a movie set, to Otis’ (Noah Jupe) charm as a young actor. It’s so clear by the end of the film that Otis’ father didn’t only give him pain, but allowed Otis to accept himself.

You can read Maddie McDougall’s full review of Honey Boy here.

9. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)

Martin Scorsese made headlines this year for his critique of the Marvel series, a series which “does not constitute real filmmaking” according to the famed director. It’s disappointing that this is why Scorsese made so many headlines in 2019, and not for his incredible work with The Irishman, a fun and extremely sad film that feels like a conclusion to so much of the previous work in the Scorsese canon. It builds and builds by expanding complex character interactions to the point where the film itself almost feels out of breath by the end. It’s an extremely sad movie, one about aging and legacy, but a fantastic end to an incredible director’s career. However, I hope it isn’t the end, as Martin Scorsese just has too much genius to share. If you can sit for 3 hours to watch Avengers: Endgame, you can watch 3 ½ hours of a director cementing his legacy of a 30+ year career.

You can read Ryan Circelli’s full review of The Irishman here.

8. The Last Black Man in San Francisco (Joe Talbot, 2019)

If you’re going to take anything from this list, please take this: watch the first five minutes of The Last Black Man in San Francisco. It feels cinematic without feeling cheesy or gimmicky; it’s truly expansive filmmaking. The Last Black Man in San Francisco is a story of mourning and hope; it is a film that feels real. It’s so important that the actor who portrays this film’s protagonist, Jimmie Fails of the same namesake, co-wrote this script. This is really Fails’ story, a story that is as powerful as the films’ main theme: “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair).” The colors sing in this film, the score supports the story, and the characters are full of energy and life. This story is a love letter and an intervention to San Francisco itself. As Fails says: “You don’t get to hate San Francisco. You don’t get to hate it unless you love it.”

7. Us (Jordan Peele, 2019)

One of the strongest genres of the past few years has to be horror. It’s a completely overlooked genre, one that is ignored by the glitz and glamour of awards season. Despite Us’ thematic maturity, emotional resonance, and effective cinematography, it will most likely be ignored come awards season. Lupita Nyong’o stuns as Red/Adelaide and proves why she is one of our generations’ greatest acting gifts. Jordan Peele’s stories are complex and relevant, and Us lives up to his masterpiece Get Out. Us keeps you thinking after it ends, and that is a sign of great filmmaking.

You can read Jim Saunders’ full review of Us here.

6. Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach, 2019)

This is a balanced film evenly divided between the two perspectives. Noah Baumbach is really at his prime with this film, as it feels so real. It’s no surprise that this comes from his own experience. Marriage Story starts strong and ends strong. Powerhouse performances dominate this film. A particular fighting scene between Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) and Charlie (Adam Driver) has really been the most talked about scene in this film. Adam Driver’s performance is so strong because of how real it feels, not how loud he can dramatically yell or punch a wall. Adam Driver feels like a dad out of his element just trying to protect his relationship with his kid, which is why it’s one of the best performances of the year. All of the films I’ve mentioned in this list have very strong scores, but this film has one of the best of the year. Randy Newman knows how to craft a score that makes the audience feel this sense of love.

You can read Maddie McDougall’s full review of Marriage Story here.

5. Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi, 2019)

This is a film I had been waiting for about two years, from the director, Taika Waititi, who I love. Taika Waititi is known for mixing tragedy and comedy in an expert fashion, a thread one can see from his earliest work Boy. This film is Waititi at his best, someone who truly knows how to tell an entertaining story. The twist hits you emotionally, as Waititi slowly crafts an engaging story. Jojo Rabbit is an extremely relevant perspective in our current world, a child’s, and is now one of the best films about World War II.

You can read Ajay Rawat’s full review of Jojo Rabbit here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Jojo Rabbit here.

4. Booksmart (Olivia Wilde, 2019)

A truly funny film, this relatable story felt like it was made for me. Being a more recent high school graduate, those feelings of senior year are still fresh in my mind. Feeling like I was intensely obsessed with studying, and that I pushed myself while missing out on the more fun parts of life, this film is the definition of relatable, which is a compliment to Olivia Wilde, the director. This is a fantastic subject to parody as a comedy. All the jokes landed, the characters were memorable, and the soundtrack was fantastic. Molly (Beanie Feldstein) and Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) make this movie shine, and their intense love for each other will make you cry.

You can read Megan Bernovich’s full review of Booksmart here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Booksmart here.

3. Rocketman (Dexter Fletcher, 2019)

This is my favorite film of the year. Personally, 2019 for me was the year of Rocketman. I saw this film in theaters four times, and met the lead, Taron Egerton, at a convention. While it would not be honest to place this as my number one just out of pure emotional resonance, I think how films make us feel are still an incredibly important part of filmmaking and critical analysis. I think it’s often overlooked as it’s not seen as an objective mode of analysis, but what’s the point of art if not to make us feel something? I felt something watching this film. A sense of joy from the music, bright colors, and sparkle in Elton’s eye as he learns to accept himself. This is miles better than another recent biopic about a 70’s rockstar, Bohemian Rhapsody. Specifically, for the care it takes in showing Elton’s sexuality, and the struggles he endured because of it. This film deserves more praise than it’s gotten, stuck in the dust after an early year May release. It’s a wonderfully musical, fantastically performed, impeccably styled, and a thoroughly emotional piece of filmmaking. And yes, I cried while watching this in the theater– twice.

2. Little Women (Greta Gerwig, 2019)

I am personally very biased when it comes to Greta Gerwig’s work. Lady Bird is my favorite movie, Little Women (1994) is very nostalgic for me, and both of the mentioned films remind me of my mother. But, despite my bias, no one can deny that no other filmmaker is creating like Greta Gerwig. Greta Gerwig’s work can only be described as warm and comforting. Gerwig is a complex storyteller and has a beautiful way of presenting images, but something magical happens when she gets behind a camera and tells this story of four sisters who love each other more than anything. You don’t need me to tell you that the performances are amazing, but Saoirse Ronan as Jo and Florence Pugh as Amy are stand-outs. Everyone is perfectly casted. This remake is justified in Gerwig’s reinterpretation of Louisa May Alcott’s plot and honors the original storytelling in such a caring way. Greta Gerwig corrects a past injustice in this film, and she does it beautifully.

You can read Stephanie Chuang’s full review of Little Women here.

1. Parasite (Bong Joon-Ho, 2019)

An international sensation from the already acclaimed director Bong Joon-ho, Parasite was the best film of 2019. Not only was it the best film of 2019, but this film also described the state of the world in 2019, and arguably the 2010s, through a class satire articulating the anxieties many of us feel. A haunting score, a delicately crafted plot, and incredible performances (specifically from Kang-Ho Song), this film legendary. Bong Joon-ho jokingly described the Oscars as a local film festival, and if Parasite is not at least acknowledged come awards season, his tongue in cheek comment will be even more validated. No one is capturing our present moment like Bong Joon-ho, and Parasite is his best film yet.

You can read Joe Lollo’s full review of Parasite here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Parasite here.