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Luccas Pryor’s Top Ten Films of 2019

As the final year in a decade notable for simultaneously expanding indie distribution through A24, introducing the great streaming wars between Netflix, Amazon and more, as well as suffocating general audiences with an onslaught of sequels, reboots, and of course Marvel films, 2019 was an exceptional year in cinema. It was a complex and ultimately satisfying year, pushing towards more ethnic representation and gender diversity than ever before. It also, at its best (and hopefully represented in the list below), bridged the gap and subsequently solved the cinema and amusement park ride debate, proving a film can be both. 2019 expressed intimate emotions and ideas spread elegantly across an entertaining canvas, featuring four little women, three gangster icons, 2 sparring New York/LA socialites, and of course, one angry jew. In other words, it had it all. As all active years go, this could have easily been a detailed list of 20 films or more, but a top 10 dilutes the best of the year into a truly diverse and memorable collection. Honorable mentions (in no particular order): Transit, Pain and Glory, Little Women, High Flying Bird, Ash is the Purest White, Her Smell, Toy Story 4, The Farewell, and Marriage Story. See my full 2019 ranked list here.

10. A Hidden Life (Terrence Malick, 2019)

“…the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” -George Eliot

He’s back! After decades with work as prolific as a world war, Terrence Malick has seemed to lose a step in recent years, diving headfirst into expressionistic dance art pieces with no narrative focus. However, Malick’s A Hidden Life is a grandiose return to form, combining a wrenching tale of martyrdom in the Second World War with his usual trademarks, including sensitive diegetic sound design and lush imagery. Among my Mount Rushmore of favorite directors, Malick stands apart at the top, and it more of a reflection of his quality as a director than of the year itself that the weakest film I have seen from him is a top 10 film of the year. It moves swiftly from Sirk melodrama to haunting wartime thriller, wide shots of the Swiss fields juxtaposed with lonely close-ups of men in chains. It is long, exhausting, and even frustrating, yet in the end, it is one of the most pivotal films of the year by an artist who rarely makes anything but. Malick’s penchant for lengthy montages with straightforward Oscar-bait may seem curious, but here it is swoon-worthy.

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

9. Dragged Across Concrete (S. Craig Zahler, 2019)

“In this world, every man wants to become a lion.”

Usually, I am a reasonably even-keeled reviewer. If a film has universal raves, I like it! If a movie has poor reviews, I dislike it! Pretty simple, right? Dragged Across Concrete opened with a modicum of mixed-to positive review, most of which were concerned with the film’s tumultuous right-wing politics. Zahler, a known Republican, famous for his gritty dialogue and pulpy grind-house films, continues to elevate his prose and low-art style. The first time, I found this to be a highly watchable hang-out masterpiece, with expansive plotting and original characters, the type of slow-burn that in the ’70s would be on a double bill only to later become a cult classic. On a second watch, I found this to be rife with melancholy, Zahler writing his heros not as indestructible right-wing soldiers, yet rather filled with pity and regret. In the end, the two protagonists perish in a fire-fight with the soulful antagonist, revealing himself to be the protagonist all along. Dragged Across Concrete is brave filmmaking filled with the type of grand storytelling that can only happen on a shoe-string budget.

8. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Céline Sciamma, 2019)

“In solitude, I felt the liberty you spoke of. But I also felt your absence.”

The power of film can come from anticipating a new film from an acclaimed director, but equally to discover a brand new filmmaker and instantly fall in love. Céline Sciamma, known for Indies such as Girlhood and Tomboy, curates her masterpiece, a slow burn of picturesque desire and lust. I’ve always been interested in a raw portrait about the start of a relationship, one not befallen with cliches and didactic writing. In Portrait of Lady on Fire, Sciamma writes her characters with such specificity that you believe you are watching two real people fall in love over time, culminating in one of the most romantic and heartbreaking films of the year.

You can read Armon Mahdavi’s full review of Portrait of a Lady on Fire here.

7. The Souvenir (Joanna Hogg, 2019)

“You would be a terrible landlord. I am a terrible landlord.”

I could easily cut and paste my review for Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and my impressions would largely remain the same. The only distinction is that while both are romantic two-handers with a specific combination between character and setting, The Souvenir is more about the natural destruction of a relationship while also building a foundation to form an elegant and woeful coming-of-age picture. It is the combination of these two elements that ultimately make this among the best of the year. As the protagonist Julie, played by Tilda Swinton’s daughter, moves from the pleasure and pains of growing up, her significant other Anthony, played by a scene-stealing Tom Burke, portrays an ethereal presence on screen and off. When he is on screen, its a relationship filled with frustration and off-kilter love. When he is off, it is a relationship filled with emptiness and a tragic, inevitable decline into the difficulties of young love and finding your own identity. The Souvenir is a dry British masterwork.

6. High Life (Claire Denis, 2019)

“Shall we? Yes.”

The film that was my number one for the majority of the year, High Life was my introduction to the unique and distinct work of French filmmaker Claire Denis. What I got was unlike any other film I saw this year: a horror movie set upon a prison space ship about the decline of the moral individual on a global scale, synthesizing euro artistic influences with a study on humanity’s cyclical self-destruction. Denis specially chooses her inmates as portraits of the world, from obsessive women to violent men. Even the protagonist Monte, of whom Denis flirts with the moral background frequently throughout the film, is revealed to be guilty of the crime he committed. Denis emphasizes sex, violence, but above all else, rebirth – a fitting image a film filled with dread and despair. And yet, that’s precisely what makes High Life so special. I’ll always remember the tender moments between Andre 3000’s Tcherny in the garden or even the film’s final image – a father and a daughter caressing each other as they wait for oblivion, synthesizing time and space into a final image so powerful that it somehow makes all the craziness worth it.

5. Parasite (Bong Joon-Ho, 2019)

“Dad, today I made a plan – a fundamental plan. I’m going to earn money, a lot of it. University, a career, marriage, those are all fine, but first I’ll earn money. When I have money, I’ll buy the house. On the day we move in, Mom and I will be in the yard. Because the sunshine is so nice there. All you’ll need to do is walk up the stairs. Take care until then. So long.”

Probably the film of the year. As I said in the introduction, I believe the best films of the year bridge the gap between high art and high entertainment, and no other movie perfectly represents that than Parasite. It moves between genres with ease, unfolding upon a first watch one of the scariest and timeliest films of the year, whether as a heist film or domestic comedy or even a horror extravaganza with class warfare and rife symbolism sprinkled in. It’s the type of film that is so meticulous and slick with perfectionism that it might even be considered off-putting. Yet Bong’s filmmaking worked on me, his love of movies clearly present whether through Hitchcock’s plotting or even Spielberg’s earnest storytelling, all in service of telling a timely picture filled with comfort, humor, and blood. And just like the many films on this list, the ending is a knockout, with a sequence so shocking, tender, and hopeful that it left me bowled over by the time I left the theater.

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

4. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (Quentin Tarantino, 2019)

“Don’t cry in front of the Mexicans.”

One of two major late-career films in my top 5 the year, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is a borderline triumph from one of cinema’s most famous auteurs over the past 30 years. As we end the decade, it is only fitting that Tarantino finally makes a nostalgic passion-project about his childhood, filled with melancholy reverence and loud applause. The ending fight may be classic Quentin, but what comes 2 hours before is a patient, rewarding picture about the decline of old Hollywood and a person’s role left to play in it. It is his most borderline avant-garde film, with lengthy sequences trimmed in most studio films. Pitt’s nighttime drive to Deep Purple’s Hush remains one of the most splendid moments of the year, a nighttime driving scene that fully envelops the audience in the world of the late ’60s, showing off the year’s best production design. Later in the film, Tarantino films an extended take of two best friends watching an episode of FBI, voiceover playing in full as the whole scene plays out uncut, recreating an entire episode opening. But what comes near the end of the film is one of the best pieces of cinema I have ever seen, a short yet powerful sequence in which famous LA restaurants and establishments open for business, neon lights beaming across downtown LA’s hazy purple skies. It is such a distinct, soulful piece of nostalgiac cinema. I will never forget it. As Al Pacino says early on in the film, “What a picture.”

You can read Jim Saunders’ full review of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood here.

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

“This is how I win.”

It’s rare for your most anticipated film of the year to meet expectations, let alone exceed them, and yet Uncut Gems delivers. More than that, after Good Time, the Safdie Brothers follow up their 2017 hit with an expansive character actor opera and the best performance of the year standing right in the middle. Sandler, in his second noticeable dramatic role in his career, is nothing short of outstanding. Rather than lose his typical comedic timing, Sandler uses it to extrapolate pathos for a seedy gambler who continually chases the next big hit. It’s in irrational character only made likable by Sandler’s god-tier performance. However, what makes Uncut Gems so extraordinary isn’t the central character but the detail in which the Safdie brothers and Ronald Bronstein write the supporting characters. Each tells a specific mini subplot in Ratner’s hectic and tragic life, whether it’s through Julia Fox’s earnest mistress or Eric Bogosian’s uneasy debtor. The whole film is a thrilling escalation of bad choices, broken bets and failed amends. It is all both gratifying and heartbreaking, resulting in one of the best 3rd acts of the modern millennium – a 2012 playoff Celtics game. Once the climax hits and Uncut Gems closes the thematic loop on its version of a modern-day Shakespearean tragedy, I realized this movie was made just for me.

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

2. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)

“It’s what it is.”

Similar to Tarantino’s masterpiece, The Irishman is a distant late-career film, deconstructing the famous works of the greatest American filmmaker of all time. It is, of course, a riot of gangster entertainment, yet like any great piece of self-reflexive cinema, also somber, culminating in a desolate funeral tale of regret and aging. The three famous actors that set the stage have never been better, yet it is Pesci’s quiet work that stands out. After a career filled with testy little men with short tempers, here he plays his scariest character, directly affecting the morals of the men that surround him without ever lifting a finger. And of course, the declining morals of the three aging men is what Scorsese chooses to focus on. However, rather than their actions, he focuses on the aftermath, whether through DeNiro’s heartbreaking phone call with Hoffa’s wife or Peggy Sheeran’s wordless look of disdain towards her father’s hidden actions. But it is in the film’s final shot that ultimately relays all of Scorsese’s 3 and half hour epic intentions into a quick dagger of the heart – an image of a man staring at the door, waiting for someone to enter, and no one coming. The Irishman isn’t just one of the years best. It’s one of Scorsese’s best, full stop.

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

1. Ad Astra (James Gray, 2019)

“We’re all we’ve got.”

Ad Astra is the closest I’ve come to see a true masterpiece all year. It is a film that is more flawed than all of the previous four movies combined with all the subtext of a Stephen King novel, and yet rather acting as on the nose, Ad Astra IS the nose. Brad Pitt delivers one of his most essential performances in a career full of them, finally going full circle into an austere character actor. Hoyte Van Hoytema lenses the prettiest film of the year, shooting a stark contrast between the beauty of space and the desolate interiors that befall it. But above all else, in a decade that is known for the rampant destruction of integrity by the Hollywood studio system, James Gray directs a 90 million dollar art house film that channels Malick and Tarkovsky more than it does Feige. It’s filled with the best damn set pieces this year hands down, a Mad-Max lunar set piece, and a zero-gravity knife fight included. The emotional undercurrents and blatant earnestness gut me straight to the heart. On a night in which America is most likely going to war with Iran, General Roy’s earnest one-liner to his father is my line of the year. “We’re all we’ve got.” The infernal rage of hereditary toxic masculinity burns bright, but Ad Astra is ultimately about the absence of God in a universe without a moral compass. Without God, space is nothing but silence. And in a world filled with silence, someone has to speak up.

You can read PJ Knapke’s full review of Ad Astra here.

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Joe Lollo’s Top Ten Films of 2019

2019 was, without a doubt, an awesome year for film, and one of the best ways to close out a decade. There were a lot of great ones that came out this year, and the challenge of narrowing my top 20-something down to 10 was a big one. I’ve seen so many good things this year, and it was extremely difficult to choose just 10 films that I loved.

My method for this list was simple – go on my Letterboxd ranked list – take out all the memes that graced the top (sorry, Full Force, Loqueesha, and Sextuplets – you’ll get the recognition you deserve sometime soon), and then think of which of these I would definitely suggest to people. That’s the mindset I had when writing this list.

Before I get started, I have a few honorable mentions. These movies are all amazing, yet they didn’t really make the cut: Joker, The Farewell, Avengers: Endgame, Little Women, Her Smell, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and Uncut Gems. All of those movies are awesome, yet as it stands, here are my 10 favorite movies of the year. Let’s get started!

10. Honey Boy (Alma Har’el, 2019)

Alma Har’el’s narrative directorial debut is not for the faint of heart, due to its hard R rating and outrageous nature. However, it is loud, emotional, and honest, which is something to admire in its own sense. Shia LaBeouf’s semi-biographical script and top-tier writing alone are admirable enough, thanks to his openness and vulnerability, but everything else featured in the film just seems to lift it up into more greatness. It left me in pieces, more than any other film I’ve seen has. Yet it managed to break my spirit in such an uplifting and creative way. Shia LaBeouf, Lucas Hedges, and Noah Jupe all give amazing performances that not only feel realistic but also hit me way too hard. I realized that I, at least once, have felt like all of them. I’ve struggled with finding my identity during most of my life, I’ve been depressed, I had thoughts of self-harm that I never acted on, and I’ve gone to therapy session after therapy session to try to make it better. Yet it’s these qualities that really make us genuine human beings, something that this film really captures the essence of in its runtime. With the emotional scars that Honey Boy left in me, I now think of Shia LaBeouf as so much more than the “Just Do It!” guy.

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

9. Long Shot (Jonathan Levine, 2019)

Replacing that downer with a much more positive film, Long Shot is one of the best feel-good films of the year. I can’t remember a time in this movie when I wasn’t genuinely and consistently laughing. Everything – the dialogue, the humor, the political satire, is hilarious and adds up to being a great comedy film. What motivated me to put it on this list is that, despite all that, it’s so much more than the simple “dorky guy gets hot girl way out of his league” comedy that it seems to be at first. It gets up close and personal with concepts of political ethics, identity formation, and media bias, all with the framework of our contemporary political climate. The cast is terrific in their performances, the soundtrack is solid, and the romance between Seth Rogen and Charlize Theron is believable, unlike most rom-coms. Funny and full of heart, it’s definitely the kind of movie to watch if you just want to have a good time.

8. Rocketman (Dexter Fletcher, 2019)

Being a(n amateur) musician myself, I’m always one for music biopics. Love and Mercy, the Beach Boys biopic, is one of my favorite movies of all time, and I genuinely enjoyed Bohemian Rhapsody more than a lot of people. Rocketman, however, holds up more to the former than the latter. It manages to combine the typical sense of a biopic with fantasy dreamscape sequences and big song and dance numbers that make me feel like I’m watching Mamma Mia and make me appreciate Elton John’s music much more than I have before. As a queer person, I am also proud of how the movie made history as the FIRST big studio movie to have a LGBT sex scene, between its two lead actors. Speaking of them, Taron Egerton’s overall performance as Elton John is amazing, because he really embraces Elton’s unique energy and voice, and Jamie Bell has a great co-lead performance as his songwriting companion Bernie Taupin. Overall, this movie is a great capture of Elton John’s high and low pints in life, filled with great music and great moments.

7. Knives Out (Rian Johnson, 2019)

I’ve always wondered what Rian Johnson was gonna put out next after The Last Jedi, his 2017 entry to the Star Wars franchise. What’s for sure is that I also didn’t expect something as great as this. Knives Out is truly special, because it plays on the “whodunit” trope without being too predictable. The story is compelling, characters are well-written, and the ensemble cast is amazing – especially Ana De Armas, Daniel Craig, and Michael Shannon – and the whole movie just clicks, which is pretty rare. What I really liked about this film, however, was the story. It is wonderfully detailed, filled with twists that always kept me guessing and on the edge of my seat, and is peppered with some of the best writing and cinematography as well. It’s immensely more enjoyable than it initially seems to be, and something I will definitely try to watch again soon.

You can read Rohan Patel’s full review of Knives Out here.

6. The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers, 2019)

While A24 is certainly a mixed bag when it comes to film quality, The Lighthouse is certainly something special. It’s clear to me that everyone working on this film put in so much passion and effort into their craft that it’s all overwhelmingly good. It’s enjoyable in a different way than a lot of these movies on this list are, because it is simply so specific and so beautiful in the way it looks that it really lives a sort of impression on you. It’s philosophical, Lovecraftian, and just a joy to watch. With awards season being in full steam at the moment, I believe Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson are both extremely deserving of any award they can find. As soon as The Lighthouse’s credits rolled and I was getting up from my seat, I thought to myself “this is going to become an instant classic.” And by the looks of it, I seem to be right.

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

5. Midsommar (Ari Aster, 2019)

Ari Aster did it again in 2019, by creating another visually appealing horror film that really captures feelings of self-inflicted terror. While Hereditary, Aster’s previous film, elicits scares from the creeping darkness like most horror films, Midsommar is unique because of the way it brings scares into common, perpetual daylight, where gore constantly begs to be exposed. It surpasses its predecessor in this way, by being such a unique interpretation of Swedish pagan practices yet making it so that you don’t need to have any knowledge to follow along. I think the best part of the film comes from its psychedelic and colorful visuals, because of how Aster is breaking the mainstream horror theme by using bright and gaudy colors. Another thing of note that pleasantly surprised me were the performances, particularly those of Florence Pugh, Will Poulter, and William Jackson Harper. I can see this film as their breakout performances, and the 2020s giving them even better roles. Midsommar is not for the faint of heart, but it certainly doesn’t disappoint.

You can read Cynthia Li’s full review of Midsommar here and listen to UW Film Club’s podcast on Midsommar here.

4. Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi, 2019)

Seeing how Taika Waititi is one of my favorite directors of all time, it seemed obvious that I was going to enjoy Jojo Rabbit. And I did. In fact, I enjoyed it even more than I thought I was going to. I loved this movie and everything about it, in fact. The set design, music, and editing are fantastic work, the story is a nuanced and detailed emotional roller coaster, and the ensemble cast is again great. Taika Waititi’s Hitler, however, is the real star. There are moments where you can tell that Waititi put a lot of research into his role. He looks and sounds just like Hitler, yet he’s goofy and charismatic like The Office’s Michael Scott – basically playing the best example of a “good Hitler” from a child’s imagination. Another thing of note is the tone shirt from comedic to dramatic within the halfway point – while you can clearly see it coming, it doesn’t feel out of place and actually seems to work with the film’s advantage. And just like Honey Boy, the end message of living life to the fullest and showing that we love life is one of the best messages in any movie.

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

3. Booksmart (Olivia Wilde, 2019)

Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut was, until I saw the top two films, my #1 on this list. It’s very rare when a director makes their mark so strongly in their debut film, but Wilde definitely did so. It’s the kind of film that really stays with you even after it’s over, and it’s made so masterfully that you can’t not appreciate it even a little bit. The film is devoted to flaunting excellent writing and editing, yet the comedy is also so tight that it sticks to the story while still guaranteeing laughs. On a personal level, it’s extremely relatable to me as it’s a snapshot of modern youth culture, effortlessly capturing the trends and passions of today’s teenagers, yet it’s extremely original and emotional in the way it does so. Much like 2018’s Eighth Grade, it may be agonizing to watch because of how it reminds you of the good old days, but it’s definitely worth the watch.

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

2. Parasite (Bong Joon-Ho, 2019)

When I reviewed this movie on the site, I felt like I didn’t do it enough justice, because while I knew it was great, I didn’t really appreciate it until I was able to think more about it. I now believe that Bong Joon-ho is a genius, especially when he’s working with a movie like this. The characters, the story, and the metaphors are so simple to follow, yet so well-done and complex in how they operate together. Bong knows exactly what he wants to say and how he wants to say it, and it’s truly an inter-genre film in the way it combines aspects from thrillers and dark comedies. It’s equal amounts funny as it is endearing as it is socially conscious, and all of that is necessary for the things it is trying to achieve. It’s definitely an improvement from Okja.

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

1. Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach, 2019)

Without any hyperbole, exaggeration, overstatement, or any other similar words, I have to say that Marriage Story is my favorite movie of the year. I’d say it’s a near perfect movie – everything really clicks together, yet everything is also amazing individually. Starring Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson, this is one of the best examples of movies going out of their way to creatively tell a unique story while still looking beautiful anyway. Noah Baumbach is extremely creative, and this movie feels really immersive due to his knack for making films fast-paced and witty, yet also extremely realistic. I specifically associate with Adam Driver’s Charlie because I cried way too many times in this movie. It was extremely hard to watch at times, yet I still loved it either way. Honestly, though, Marriage Story seems to be a way to remind me of why I love movies so much in the first place – they can be so immersive and fantastic, yet at the same time so realistic and human in the way they tell stories and instill important values into you. Even if I knew it was amazing as soon as I watched it, I actually believe it’s one of the best movies of this decade. We waited so long, went through so many ups and downs, and lived through so many awful cliché movies, just to get something good and original at the end of the decade. And that movie is Marriage Story.

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

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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.

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Review: ‘Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker’ Chooses Style Over Substance

One of the most anticipated movies of 2019 is finally here for the holiday season. J.J. Abrams’ Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is the final installment to the sequel trilogy as well as the Skywalker Saga that began all the way back in Episode I. This concluding episode follows the final battle between the Resistance and The First Order, Rey and Kylo Ren, and the Light and the Dark side.

Just like in The Return of the Jedi, there’s a significant time gap between this movie and its previous installment. Even though the classic crawling text intro catches us up, the movie spends a significant amount of time explaining the events that lead to the ultimate showdown. As a result, it feels disconnected from The Last Jedi, instead feeling like a sequel to The Force Awakens, which was coincidentally also directed by J.J. Abrams. Additionally, the pacing of the film is inconsistent. As portrayed in the final trailer, Palpatine is brought back to be the main villain of this movie. The Rebels go from planet to planet searching for him and finding clues that lead them to more clues. This scavenger hunt is too fast and rushed, primarily because the next step or clue is always spelled out for the characters. The pace then abruptly slows down in the last act and the final battle is far too stretched out.

There are a few recurring characters from previous films along with a couple of new characters. Ian McDiarmid reprises his role as Emperor Palpatine. His return is a surprise, but a welcome one nonetheless. Both Daisy Ridley and Adam Driver give amazing performances as Rey and Kylo Ren respectively. Although the movie primarily revolves around these three characters, John Boyega as Finn and Oscar Issac as Poe Dameron are great as supporting characters. However, they had more potential and their overall arc feels incomplete. This is also the last appearance of Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia and her character is given a satisfying end. There are also a few cameos by characters from previous trilogies.

The main criticism of the film is that it is plot-driven. Except for Rey and Kylo, most of the characters aren’t explored further than what they were in The Last Jedi. There aren’t a lot of scenes where we see character conflicts or dramatic decisions that add complexity to characters. The first act would have been interesting, for example, if there had been some emotional conflict between characters instead of a blind chase to find Palpatine. The film also attempts to ignore the previous installment in overriding the themes that were built in The Last Jedi.

One thing that is consistent throughout all the Star Wars movies is the amazing soundtrack. John Williams, the composer for the score, has used themes from across the franchise and also composed new pieces for this movie. Recurring character themes like The Imperial March and The Emperor’s Theme bring back the nostalgia from the original and prequel trilogies, while the newer additions accompany the fight sequences perfectly by making them feel energetic.

This review wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the lightsaber duels. Where the movie lacks in character development, it makes up for with action and visual effects. Dan Mindel, the cinematographer, and Abrams have reaffirmed their prowess with classic, fast-paced action sequences. This movie brings new elements to the classic lightsaber duels along with new force powers that make the duels interesting to watch. In one particular scene, Rey fights a TIE fighter with a lightsaber in what is a visually appealing and exciting scene to watch. The excellent cinematography and soundtrack make the lightsaber fights the most satisfying part of the movie.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker seems good as a stand-alone film; however, it doesn’t fit well with the previous installments. The trilogy as a whole feels disjointed and inconsistent. The Skywalker Saga has finally come to an end, but, this is certainly not the end for the franchise. Lucasfilms is now focusing on other media with The Mandalorian and the recently announced Obi-Wan Kenobi TV series. There are still a lot of stories to tell that happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

3/5 STARS

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Review: ‘6 Underground’ is Carte Blanche Netflix Bayhem

Michael Bay’s career stretches back to the humble beginnings of the 90’s music video era, directing hits for singers like Tina Turner and Meatloaf. His first feature film was the mega-hit Bad Boys, propelling his and Will Smith’s respective careers into the stratosphere and subsequently starting his path to become one of the most universally rueful directors who continually produces massive hits year after year. Almost 25 years later, we finally see Michael Bay given carte blanche, thanks to Netflix’s seemingly endless pockets and no real desire for quality control. What we get cannot even be described in a single word. Much more than ‘Bayhem’, 6 Underground consists of all the infamous Bay trademarks that have propelled his idiosyncratic career: sustained formalistic Michael Mann practical action within a thinly stretched story, crude humor, wonky politics, a repetitive plot, and of course: explosions. It also happens to be one of the best action movies of the year.

The “story” (if it can even be called that) of 6 Underground centers around a brilliant billionaire (Ryan Reynolds) who fakes his own death to lead a team of rogue international mercenaries – a group of ghosts designed to do the jobs that world governments refuse to do. Opening with a job gone wrong in Florence, Italy, the team recruits a former sniper battling PTSD to forge a military coup, deposing the authoritarian leader of Turgistan and replacing him with his democratic brother. 

6 Underground begins with the greatest action set-piece of the year and never lets up from frame one. Bay’s trademark of endless explosions and practical plastic inevitability may produce an eye-roll for most fans, but it is also a gift that very few in the turgid digital age of Marvel can pull off. The opening scene is pure Bay, from dick jokes, to Nuns violently waving their middle fingers, to innocent civilian bodies flying, to a severed eye-ball getting passed through a speeding neon green Lamborghini – you get the point. There’s even a scene that implies Bay thinks Dave Franco is famous enough to be Janet-Leighed. In truth, the scene, just like most of the film, is a rapid-fire gloriously crass cluster of violence and awry character. As the film moves from one standout American action set-piece to another, the film somehow maintains this maniacal pacing interweaved with droll expository information and the film’s ultimate enemy: plot. Even 6 Underground’s central politics are so backward, in-bred, and twisted that only the ultimate bad-taste American Maestro like Bay could pull it off. The film carries over the morally reprehensible American ideology of the military state from the Iraq war. It is so formally reprehensible that it almost somehow almost twists itself back around again into a complex companion to Zero Dark Thirty.

6 Underground‘s loose and messy structure perfectly matches Bay’s sensibilities. Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, the infamous (and extremely rich) writers of such “comedic classics” as Zombieland and Deadpool barely know where to take the film. The first half of the film is entirely set around flashbacks and set pieces. The back half is entirely set up fake emotional engagements and set-piece. Even calling this a story is a stretch. Yet somehow, theirs (and Ryan Reynolds) stylistic traits match perfectly with the breakneck tackiness of a Michael Bay Netflix adventure.

3.5/5 STARS

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Review: ‘The Two Popes’ is Religiously Devoted to Crude Cinematography

It was with 2002’s City of God that director Fernando Meirelles first burst onto the international movie scene. A South American Goodfellas, the film followed a young Brazilian boy named Rocket across three decades as he scraped out an existence in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. The movie met roaring success and is now perennially regarded as one of the better movies of all time (#22 and #40 on IMDB and Letterboxd’s Top 250, respectively). Behind the captivating narrative, the uncomfortable depictions of violence and poverty, and the heavy-handed approach to editing and camera effects that would probably knock Robert W. Paul out cold, stood Meirelles. His contribution to the gangster genre was unique and revolutionary and spectacular. As a result, few filmgoers of the early noughties would’ve believed that Meirelles would end the next decade with a Netflix-funded biopic about Pope Benedict XVI and his Argentine successor. For one, Netflix was still only renting out DVDs at that time. For another, neither pope had yet been elected. However, such was exactly the path that the Brazilian director followed. Unfortunately, The Two Popes proves that Meirelles would do better to stick with gangster flicks.

Popes is shot to look like a documentary, covering the eight years between German conservative Joseph Ratzinger’s election to the papacy, and his bizarre resignation and the subsequent election of Argentine (and much less conservative) Jorge Bergoglio in 2013. The film is comprised in large part of conversations between the two during the former’s papal rule. To the casting director’s credit, those conversations are acted out brilliantly. Jonathon Pryce and Anthony Hopkins, playing brothers in faith but rivals in thought, are the lifeblood of a picture whose success is first and foremost determined by its ability to keep audiences engaged in the religious parleys of two elderly gentlemen. The two actors dance masterfully about the topics of life and death and what lies beyond, then turn on a dime and discuss the Beatles and pulp detective TV shows with equal precision. Were either to bring in a major award for their performance, it would not be an upset. It is not there that the film falters.

Instead, fault is found in the way that the two Popes are shot and presented. To begin, Meirelles’ cinematography leads one to believe that he is unsure of the genre he is working with. Crash zooms, extreme close-ups, and Dutch angles aplenty ultimately distract the audiences from the interesting discussions they ought to be paying attention to. At the same time, the film’s structure is constructed such that the narrative climaxes in a 20-minute flashback that feels more like a digression than a revelation. The music cues are odd, if not unwelcome, and the informal nature that pervades much of the film quietly removes the possibility that the weight of its emotional summits will linger long past the end credits.

At the risk of raising pointless hypotheticals, one cannot help but wonder how other directors may have approached the task. Indeed, brief moments of the film are so beautifully interwoven with the tremendous power of religious themes that the potential of the film flashes in one’s face like neon signage. As quickly as those moments appear, however, they dissolve again in the presence of yet another Dutch angle. Ultimately, the story is acted out well, filmed poorly, and structured clumsily, but does not fail to move the audience at least once or twice.

3/5 STARS

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UW Film Club Podcast #61 – Home Alone

“Keep the change, ya filthy podcaster.”

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Huskies! We at UW Film Club hope you’re all having a fantastic winter break filled with food, family, and films :). To celebrate the most wonderful time of year, we’re taking it back to 1990 with one of the most iconic Christmas films of all time: Home Alone! So sit back, enjoy some Kraft Mac & Cheese (and bless the people who sold it on sale) and tune into our holiday special: the 61st episode of the UW Film Club Podcast!

On this episode: Jim Saunders, Joe Lollo, and Jesus Alfaro

You can find us on Facebook at /UWFilmClub, and on Twitter and Instagram @FilmClubUW. Make sure to rate, comment, and subscribe to our podcast on Apple Podcasts, Soundcloud, Spotify, and Google Play, and tune in every Monday for a new episode of the UW Film Club Podcast!

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Review: ‘Black Christmas’ Fails On All Fronts

When I saw that there was going to be a second remake of one of the first films in the “slasher” genre, I can’t say that I was excited for yet another reinterpretation of a film that already had a previously poorly received remake. I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t someone trying to inject thoughtful social commentary — a la Get Out — into a film with the same plot as Sorority House Massacre with the subtlety of an infant. What it’s going for is noble and while I generally agree with the rough ideas of what the film is advocating for, chalking gender inequality up to the black magic of a dead college founder is in no way doing any favors for the advancement of women in society (let alone bringing anything new to the table). Not to mention, it’s one of the most atrociously executed films of all time. Black Christmas fails on almost every level except for presentation (slightly); leading me to confidently conclude that this is one of (if not) the worst films of the decade.

Black Christmas follows a members of a sorority as they are being systematically killed off by a hooded killer. Riley Stone (Imogen Poots) is getting ready for another winter break at the sorority house as she has no family to go home to. Hawthorne College feels like what one would think all universities are like if all they had for reference were the sensationalized television news stories where founders’ statues are being removed and students are signing petitions against literature written exclusively by white men. It’s a gross misrepresentation that frames college social activists as bumbling idiots while trying to advocate for females’ empowerment. This dynamic which feels equal parts progressive and out of touch stems from a director Sophia Takal’s vision being impaired by executives driven by profit. Along with her friends Marty, Kris, and Jesse, Riley works her way through life post-sexual assault (that went unpunished) where she is taunted by fraternity members, struggling with the trauma that accompanies such a horrific act, and putting up with a professor (Cary Elwes) who seems to be the model antagonist to advancement for women. After ridiculing the enabling fraternity at a talent show, things begin to get strange as the sorority members begin to receive messages from their dead college founder and others don’t make it home for the holidays on time. These incidents eventually ramp up; culminating in a home invasion spearheaded by the hooded killer.

Black Christmas opens as most slashers would with a kill early on to entice the fans of the genre over while a dry spell ensues. It is odd judging violence, but in the context of what this film is, it utterly fails at any conveying any sense of the gruesome nature of what’s happening on screen. Slashers are remembered for creative kills and dimwitted archetypical leads who the audience couldn’t care less for. Genre boundaries aren’t necessarily always best when followed, but when the split is about 50/50 between following the rules and flipping them on their head, the result comes out as neither safe nor bold. The film wallows in mediocrity that — in this case — is then further diminished by its inability to successfully piggyback off of ideas of social commentary popularized in the contemporary horror films of Jordan Peele. What this results in is Get Out by way of the Platinum Dunes Friday the 13th, which is just as obtuse as it sounds.

While having a feminist message isn’t a detriment to the film whatsoever, the way in which the film frames and delivers these ideas feels amateur and clumsy. There’s something to be said about the parallels between the overt nature of murder in slashers and the straightforward delivery of the message, but it isn’t handled in a way that warrants any praise, aside from conceptualization, in its execution, which falls flat on its face. What seems to be the biggest detriment to the film’s feminist drive once again falls to the genre trappings of the slasher, which is by nature without depth. They’re lowly movies that people (including myself) watch for creative violence. Aside from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and maybe Halloween, I can’t think of any film in this subgenre that really makes you think. To reiterate, Black Christmas didn’t have to immerse itself in genre trappings, but it did partially and in doing so failed to balance on the fine line between dumb fun and meaningful commentary. The blunt nature of the thematic ideas is partially due to the nature of the film’s genre. There’s a difference between the straightforward nature of Jason Voorhees beating someone in a sleeping bag against a tree and having a majority of the characters state the point of the movie as if the audience is too stupid to get it. The film’s message isn’t the problem, but it’s how it’s delivered that ultimately ruins the outcome.

In looking back at issues with the film, what started out as a single issue with it being a poor vessel for an examination of continual gender inequality in the film industry blossomed into a multitude of issues. The second remake of a relatively well-regarded genre film was completely unnecessary given the failure of its 2006 predecessor. Reconceptualizing the story to be one of black magic practicing frat brothers is far less compelling than the gritty reality of the original. It’s an obvious cash grab for wintertime horror with poor attempts to add a distinct edge by making it about contemporary society. This film is offensive because it treats its audience like five-year-olds; beating them over the head with a direct message as if subtext would be lost on the audience. The more I think about it the more frustrated I get with the fact that Universal executives thought that this was passable. It is undoubtedly the worst film I’ve seen. As far as female-empowering modern takes on old genres, watch Death Proof instead.

.5/5 STARS

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Review: ‘Cats’ is Exactly What You’d Expect

At long, long last, Cats has finally arrived. With a 19% score on Rotten Tomatoes as of opening day, one of the most anticipated films of the year has finally graced us with its other-worldly presence. Cats follows the journey of Victoria (Francesca Hayward), an abandoned cat. She meets the Jellicles, a group of cats living in London, one by one as they compete for the honor of ascension to the Heaviside Layer. If that sounds like a strange plot for a film to have, it’s because it is.

The thing about Cats is that it is flawed at its core. This movie shouldn’t have been made. I’m not a musical theater scholar by any means, but I can think of many shows that should have been adapted before this. Moreover, I can think of many, many, shows that would have been far easier to adapt than Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats. There’s also the elephant in the room: the CGI in this film edges far too close to the uncanny valley for comfort. The CGI also makes the dancing feel less impressive, as it feels about as realistic as the fur on Judi Dench’s face. Cats could have easily been done without CGI, instead using traditional costumes and makeup, but it was not.

The key to engaging with Cats as a film is to accept these two central flaws (its existence and its CGI). Yes, these flaws still impact the film. However, if you accept these things and move on, Cats becomes a fun and campy good time instead of a showcase of mistakes. There’s nothing you can do about these key problems, so we, the audience, might as well make the best of it. I highly recommend the experience of seeing this film in theaters. It is a ridiculous, hilarious, and fun-filled romp through a scaled-up CGI London that I think is best enjoyed in an environment with others to prevent one’s own spiral into insanity.

What Cats lacks in realism, gravity, and sense, it makes up for with sheer enthusiasm. It feels as though every member of the cast is giving it their all, even though they could probably coast their way through the performance. Francesca Hayward shines, Jennifer Hudson dazzles, and Taylor Swift seems to be having the time of her life. While the movie isn’t great, it is at least fun to watch the cast act for their lives.

While Cats is fun, I cannot in good conscience call it a “good” film. Aside from the obvious faults I mentioned earlier, there are many smaller problems with it. While the filmmaking itself is blessedly competent, it doesn’t distract from the sheer weirdness of watching a bunch of actors you know and love behave like cats. Cats falls into the Lion King (1994) trap of trying to portray feline-on-feline affection to a human audience; one can only watch two characters nuzzle each other so many times before it just becomes weird. Additionally, the scale of the set in relation to the actors starts to become strangely humorous after a while, with long shots of the dance sequences that will make you laugh out loud more than once.

All in all, Cats feels like something that exists outside any modern method of film criticism. I, personally, truly enjoyed my viewing experience, as I love a good big-budget campy nightmare. However, my taste in film is obviously not universal, as evidenced by several people in my screening leaving halfway through the film. All I can offer is this: if you think you would enjoy Cats, you will probably enjoy Cats. The trailers advertised the film honestly, which in this day and age is something to be admired. If you don’t think you’d like Cats, that’s completely understandable. If you do think you’d like Cats, step right up to the Jellicle ball and enjoy the ride of a lifetime.

1.5/5 STARS

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Review: ‘Atlantics’ is an Otherworldly Love Story for the Present Moment

Atlantics made history as the first film directed by a black woman, French actress/director Mati Diop, to compete for the Palme d’Or at Cannes Film Festival. It went on to win the Grand Prix, the second-most prestigious prize at Cannes. Diop’s debut film is a story told by an artist with a clear vision. With the tagline being, “Every love story is a ghost story,” this film is a more than a love story. It’s a film about grief and how those we love, as cliche as it sounds, never really leave us.

Set in Senegal, the story follows Ada (Mame Bineta Sane) and her lover, Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré). Souleiman and his peers are denied their wages on a construction project for months. They leave Senegal by boat in search of a better future in Spain; without informing their lovers, and these girls are left behind. Ada is engaged to Omar (Babacar Sylla), and after an incident on their wedding night, becomes haunted by something otherworldly. Atlantics slowly builds to a powerful, tender ending.

African talent needs to be appreciated and uplifted. The performances by the main cast are all successful, but one actor who clearly stands out is Mame Bineta Sane as Ada. Her steady stare in the final shot is proof enough of her talents. Her nuanced performance throughout the film is incredible: how she idles in a state of misery after her love leaves, her anger at being mistreated on the basis of her gender, and how she whispers her love to Souleiman. Mame Bineta Sane is the true star of this film. Another stand-out performance is Nicole Sougou as Dior. Ada’s friend and confidant, she stands out as a sunglasses-toting bartender. She is solid in her views and opinions, and supports not only the fictional Ada, but also Mame Bineta Sane’s performance. How the characters dress and move feels natural, and is a testament to the work of the supporting cast.

Diop’s Director of Photography, Claire Mathon’s, cinematography is a stand-out in this film. Shots of unfinished construction and a burned mattress are framed wonderfully, to the point where they look like photography. Particularly how Mathon composes her images, how she allows the landscape to take up space and the actors to just exist on the screen. Mathon likes to hold her shots for a while, to the point where the audience notices. She lets her shots breathe, and it works for the most part. The shots look almost over-exposed, but it helps to create a unique look for the film and adds to the film tonally. The score also complements the film well, often pushing the audience to feel that something is not quite right. In particular, the way Diop shows the ocean is especially unique. Beyond it being a plot device, Diop creates a whole character out of the ocean.

Finally, this film is extremely relevant due to its worldview. While this film exists absent of white people and the colonial world, it does not exist outside of the forces creating the economically disadvantaged. The film begins with young men demanding overdue wages. The supernatural twist is in part due to this denial of fair wages, and is a cry for all economically downtrodden people. Diop’s female perspective is also instrumental to this story. The women of this story are called “mad” for being emotional, and are subjected to virginity tests and forced into marriages. But, from this abuse, comes a sense of female solidarity and empowerment. Dior carefully braids Ada’s hair, which represents a fundamental shift in Ada’s character. The women walk the streets at night barefoot in nightgowns, and as I was watching, I intrinsically felt scared for these girls being so exposed. These women are free, and Ada is free.

Atlantics is on Netflix now, and your 2019 watchlist is not complete without this film. Foreign films tend to be ignored, at worst tokenized. A film from Senegal has never been nominated for an Academy Award, and even worse, only three African films in the entire history of the Oscars have won for Best Foreign Film. The Academy Awards don’t mean everything in terms of the art of filmmaking, but they matter when it comes to pushing wider audiences to watch things they may have not been interested in before. As we approach awards season, you should be sure to pay attention to if Atlantics.

4/5 STARS