Top 20 of 2015 continued (Top Ten)

And so I arrive at that time of year when I have to suck it up and commit to a top ten, although it's been a bit harder in the past than it was this year. That's not to comment on the relative quality of the class of 2015 to any other year. I think it was a very fine year indeed, just one with less position shifting than usual. Subsequent viewings of certain titles merely galvanized their place on this list, with little depreciation (or significant appreciation) in value. We'll see if the years allow any of them to rise to the top.

The only oscillating I ended up doing came down to my top two. Imperfect, arguable masterpieces both -- you could also say the same of #3 and #4 -- who each sat in my #1 spot for lengthy stretches throughout the year; A testament to their staying power. At the end of the day, I had to go with the one that moved me most at first blush. Even once multiple revisitations have softened its novelty, that intense initial response is a hard feeling to forget.

But all ten of these deserve gold stars. They have given voice to the voiceless, kept us on the edge of our seats in moments of silence and bombast alike, horrified us with brutal truths, and made human emotion beautifully tangible. Without further ado, my Top Ten Movies of 2015:

Top 20 of 2015, Part 1 (#20-11)

Even when you see well under a hundred movies a year, listing a mere top ten can still be awfully limiting. So this year I'm making time to lavish praise on twenty, which I should have started doing a long time ago. And even with twice as much love going around, there still isn't room to fit in every noteworthy achievement of 2015, so first a few shout-outs:

To Matthew Heineman's gripping expose on vigilantes fighting a hopeless war in Cartel Land; To Deniz Gamze Ergüven for evoking the sisterly bonds of Mustang with such purity and sensitivity; To Steven Spielberg's sturdy, classical construction of the Cold War pseudo-thriller Bridge of Spies; And to J.J. Abrams for reawakening our love of the galaxy far, far away in his exciting and affectionate Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

And now, the first half of my Top 20 Movies of 2015:

Reacting to the 88th Oscar nominations

Oscar noms are here! Soon we can start the long, tire-spinning process of analyzing the Academy's picks for patterns and trends, reading possible portents into their eventual winners, believing we have it all figured out then talking ourselves out of it, and catching up on all the docs, songs, foreign films, and The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared.

This process takes weeks, and by the time we reach the season's end we become numb to all the prognosticating, and resigned to the apparent winners. That's why I feel it important to document my first impressions for posterity while they're still fresh in my mind.

At first blush, this year's slate comes down to a whole lot of glaring, disappointing omissions that are redeemed by the outstanding haul for Mad Max: Fury Road. I held out far longer than I should have on its Best Picture chances, superstitiously beholden to the belief that the Academy would never be cool enough to spring for this type of in-your-face action extravaganza. Happy to be wrong. Excluding the foreseeable snub of Junkie XL's manic score, AMPAS gave this movie absolutely every nomination it deserved. We should always remember this as a significant triumph over genre bias.

I do find myself, however, progressively more nettled with every passing hour at the dominance of The Revenant, a uber-masculin ego trip for which I did not care. Sure, it'll finally win Leo his Oscar (Best Grunter in a Leading Role), but seldom has a movie taken so long to say so little. Even The Hateful Eight was better in this respect. The Fox publicists will no doubt move heaven and earth to pitch it as an 'issue movie' about displaced indigenous peoples, but in truth it's a barren, simplistic revenge saga stretched over what feels like 3 hours of disturbing, unpleasant misery porn. While I certainly can't fault the nominations for Inarritu's sound, vfx and design crews (and of course Chivo), it troubles me to envision the Academy seriously considering this for the win.

Far behind those two craft hogs, The Martian was a distant second with seve, followed by Spotlight, Bridge of Spies and Carol with six nods apiece. And yet one of these things is tragically not like the others: Carol was left oft the Best Picture ballot, which only numbered eight for the second straight year. If something as subtle and refined as Spotlight can make it in (and possibly win), why not Todd Haynes' exquisite masterwork? (Some have proposed that the tired old #OscarsSoWhite hashtag should be replaced with #OscarsSoMale)

Check out more knee-jerk reactions -- and a few cursory predictions -- after the cut.

Auld Acquaintances

The eve of the New Year is inevitably a time to cherish old friends, and for the last two weeks movie audiences have been taking that cue by turning out in droves for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. For fans of the original trilogy, it plays like a long awaited reunion with cherished characters from the past, whilst introducing a new roster of charismatic heroes for the younger generation.

The whole thing unspools more or less as an affectionate retread of the 1977 mega-hit that spawned the series, with enough slight variations to satiate the geeks. And if there are plenty of earnest nits to fondly pick (and there are), at least they never feel outright dumb or insulting, which can't be said of another franchise rehash which earned serious bank this year.

Last quarter 'true story' Oscar bait underwhelms

I can be a tough critic to please sometimes, but I get especially grinchy during the holiday crunch when awards season group-think forces me to seek out prestige-courting biopics and true-to-life narratives for which I'd gladly have waited. In the ten days since I first set eyes upon Todd Hayne's exquisite Carol, I've struck out thrice with other Globe/BFCA heavies Trumbo, The Danish Girl, and The Big Short; All of them capitalizing on year-end kudos, whether or not they should.

Trumbo is especially unfortunate. True Hollywood stories are of inherent interest to me (and many a cinephile, I should imagine), so it really says something when I despair at how unengaged I was by Jay Roach's shapeless biopic of the legendary screenwriter, who was infamously blackballed by McCarthy-era witch hunt politics. The man himself (likely Oscar nominee Bryan Cranston) would have shuddered at the screenplay's lack of structure and payoff. The film's strong SAG haul, particularly the Best Ensemble nomination, is baffling. Sure, there are a handful of droll impersonations in there -- David James Elliott's John Wayne and Dean O'Gorman's Kirk Douglas are aces -- but everyone is play acting instead of screen acting. Yes, there is a difference. The lone exceptions are Elle Fanning and Diane Lane as the key female figures in Trumbo's life, his daughter Niki and his wife Cleo.

Thoughts on Brooklyn

The film is quite lovely. It's not quite so ravishing or melodramatic as to make one swoon, but I kinda like that about it. It's simply a classically told, beautifully made romance filled with sincere, expressive performances. Saoirse Ronan's star turn as a timid immigrant turned savvy woman about town should have no problem finding awards love this season, but here's hoping the treasure that is Julie Walters doesn't go entirely forgotten. She's absolutely dandy as an ornery boardinghouse matron, and leaves a more lasting impression than her relatively little screen time would suggest. This is the sort of role that aught to be recognized in Supporting Actress nominations (not co-leading ladies posing as supporting players to avoid internal competition).

The whole thing -- nicely directed by John Crowley -- flows very gracefully. Nick Hornby has a way of distilling the spirit of his source text and channeling it into succinct, visually astute scenes. After having been passed over for what was last year's finest adapted screenplay, here's hoping the writers branch of the Academy can atone.

Spotlight Shines Bright, but Oscar Frontrunner?

After stirring up a lot of talk at Telluride and TIFF in September, most markets finally got to set eyes on Tom McCarthy's Spotlight. Gripe as I may about sluggish release schedules, this one was worth the wait.

The journalistic docudrama about the Boston Globe's Pulitzer-winning investigation of pedophilia, corruption and complicity within the Catholic Church is dense, and in the best way. McCarthy and co-writer Josh Singer's screenplay packs a lot of content into a swift, focused procedural. It requires attention, and rewards attention.

Granted, talking heads aren't always easy to make jump off the screen, but the cast is greater than the sum of their considerable parts. This is marvelous group acting, with each performer carving out distinctive personalities for a roster of characters who could have become homogenized. The SAG Ensemble prize may be sewn up, and if pundits are to be believed, perhaps the Best Picture Oscar?...

I'm not so sure.

Catching up with Bond, Shaun, and Ava

If distributors are going to playing coy all November long with their hottest Oscar prospects, I'm going to play catch-up during the lull.

Back in the Spring, Alex Garland's dulcet sci-fi Ex Machina was making the rounds on the arthouse circuit, earning strong notices for its heady ruminations on consciousness and artificial intelligence, and especially for Alicia Vikander's enigmatic robotic performance.

It's a thoughtful, chilling, lingering chamber piece -- and what perfectly designed, minimalist chambers they are too -- that takes a refreshingly intimate approach to subject matter that would tempt most filmmakers to go big. We already knew Garland had a penchant for subtle speculative fiction based on his adapted screenplay of Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go from 2010, and his authorial voice remains intact in this directorial debut.

'Suffragette' crashes on rocks of Oscar season, while 'Peanuts' dares to be different by staying the same

Not all movies that dare to land in the thick of awards season land on their feet. Word had been getting around for a few weeks before now that Sarah Gavron's well-meaning Suffragette just doesn't have the goods, and I have to sadly agree. It's unfortunate that in a year that features so many female-driven films contending in the awards race, that this one -- which was also written and directed by women -- should become such a visible casualty.

But it is what it is. The film just isn't very good. The subject matter it tackles is noble (at times unflinchingly brutal), but importance is not equal to quality.

First Week of November Gives Award Watchers Some Breathing Room

The first week of November was like being in the eye of the awards movie hurricane. With no prestige courters daring to go wide on a weekend when they'd be competing with Halloween parties and horror movie marathons, awards watchers had a chance to catch up with any October mainstays they had missed, but this Oscar blogger struck out in search of a title that's still platforming.

After winning the coveted People's Choice Awards at the Toronto International Film Festival, Lenny Abrahamson's Room instantly shot onto pundits' radar as a legit Best Picture contender. Now finally playing on a single commercial screen in Toronto (the city where it was shot in its entirety), I eagerly ventured downtown last weekend to see what all the fuss was about.

October Recap

So October is a wrap! As I was cobbling together my last-minute Doof Warrior costume in time for last night's frivolities, I figured now was the best time to start taking note of how the 2015-16 Oscar race is shaping up.

I realize that for many, the September festival circuit is the official kick-off of awards season. But for those of us without press credentials or travel time to burn, October is when we actually get to see the buzzy titles we've been reading about for a month or more. And this October was chalk full of them.

Review - Sicario

Cops and cartels, midnight raids and public shootouts, blood vendettas and hidden agendas, and a whole lot of dead bodies literally walled up in a house of horrors. If you told me all of this sounds like it belongs in a trashy detective novel, I'd probably agree. If told me it all sounds like it belongs in a trashy movie I'd say, “Hold the phone! Who says the movie has to be trashy?”

And of course, it isn't. French-Canadian director Denis Villeneuve insinuates and executes all of these familiar genre tropes with hitman-like precision in Sicario, delivering one of the most cringe-inducing, butt-clenching, excruciating films of the year... And I mean every one of those in the best possible way.

Working from a twisty screenplay by actor-turned-writer Taylor Sheridan (Sons of Anarchy), Villeneuve has crafted an excellent thriller that's every bit as refined (if not more so) as the glossy biopics and period pieces that angle for adult dollars at the multiplex every fall. Along with 2012's Prisoners and last year's Enemy, Sicario further embosses his reputation as a filmmaker capable of elevating even the pulpiest story material with his surgical attention to form and construct.

Review - Everest

The Himalayas are an astonishing sight (or so I assume – never been there), and Mt. Everest reigns supreme. Drawing climbers from around the globe with the tantalizing challenge of standing at the very top of the world, Earth's highest mountain inspires awe, but what it deserves even more is reverence.
Beautiful things can be deadly, and this is no place for those who fear death.

It was a tragic lesson learned in the spring of 1996 when two commercial mountaineering outfits became stranded on the summit in the midst of a ferocious blizzard. Everest dramatizes this catastrophe extensively, cobbled together from what survivor accounts could be disseminated.

Unknown director Baltasar Kormákur was probably the least expected name to oversee a big-budget fall studio project with a large, starry cast. Accordingly, the movie he's delivered is not quite what you'd expect either. In fact, it's harder to peg down than ropes to an ice face in whiteout conditions.

Review - Black Mass

After the better part of a decade squandered on commercially shiny yet artistically hollow multiplex vehicles, Johnny Depp has reemerged from the abyss and has his steely blue, contact-lensed eyes on awards validation in Black Mass. Though hardly a one-man show, all eyes are on Depp as the strictly criminal South Boston gang lord James 'Whitey' Bulger.

A wily machinist of the Irish mob with purported psychopathic tendencies, who manipulated a dubious informant alliance with the FBI to expand his own bloody empire throughout the 70s and 80s, Bulger provides the 52-year-old actor's juiciest opportunity in years. Resembling a grim spectre of death – capped with prosthetic fivehead and darkened eye sockets – he commands his scenes with quiet malice, hissing a sinister Southie brogue through blackened teeth.

Longtime devotees of Depp and his famously eccentric characters may hope that the inevitable "comeback" narrative set to unfold around his awards campaign takes. But they'd also be the first to admit that such an angle is sheer media-generated poppycock. Even when prestigious material eluded him, he's never stopped being one of the most ubiquitous and bankable stars in the industry.

Whether or not the quality of his performances have been as consistent as his mere presence is subjective of course, but Black Mass is at least a return to the sort of movies that serious film-lovers can get behind.

Quick Takes from Summer 2015

Yeah, it hasn't been an especially compelling summer movie season from where I'm standing, so I can count on two hands the total number of 2015 releases I've seen as of this posting.

As usual, I'll inevitably catch up with various titles later on, and when I do I'll often add some brief thoughts in this space. For now I'll start with my impressions of Trainwreck and Ricki and the Flash (female-centred movies are not common enough and they need your admission dollars!) with more to come...

Review - Mission: Impossible -- Rogue Nation

In an age when cinephiles continue to bemoan the glut (and the fiscal success) of unoriginal populist entertainment, I feel it's important to remember not all unoriginal populist entertainment is created equal. There's that which is dumb, lazy or poorly made, and there's that which is so well executed it truly entertains despite its familiarity. Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, the fifth in the series of Tom Cruise vehicles which had plateaued at 'mediocre' until Brad Bird's 2011 entry Ghost Protocol, falls comfortably into the latter designation.

Thankfully, you don't need to have followed the previous globe-trotting exploits of super spy Ethan Hunt (Cruise, barely aged since his first M:I outing in 1996) and his Impossible Mission Force, IMF, to enjoy Rogue Nation. You don't even need to follow this one all that closely. In a franchise whose primary draw is its star and his daring-do, story details erase themselves from one's memory as readily as the famously self-destructing messages that send Ethan on his next mission, should he choose to accept it. Which he does, of course.

Review - Jurassic World

Remember when dinosaurs ruled the Earth? It wasn't so very long ago, actually. 22 years, to be precise, since Steven Spielberg's revolutionary blockbuster Jurassic Park left audiences gaping in adrenaline-juiced awe at the ironic parting shot of T-Rex reigning supreme over her new kingdom.

You'd think humans, being such a highly evolved species, would learn to steer clear of the planet's new/old top predators. But that didn't stop similarly ill-fated expeditions from returning to the Costa Rican isles in Spielberg's somewhat mean-spirited sequel The Lost World and Joe Johnston's Jurassic Park III (which is better than you remember).

And now we arrive at part four, directed by little-known Colin Trevorrow, which adopts the premise that park management has finally gotten their act together and built Isla Nubar into a thriving tourist trap, renamed Jurassic World. The name isn't the only upgrade they've made. The theme resort now has new buildings, new rides, and even new creatures.

Attempting to draw in more spectators, those God-playing geneticists have cooked up a new monstrosity called Indominus-Rex; Part tyrannosaurus, part who-knows-what, all bad news. In an early scene, the park's high-strung coordinator played by Bryce Dallas Howard (not Jessica Chastain) explains to investors the need for new dinosaurs, callously referred to as 'assets': The modern consumer wants attractions that are, “Bigger. Louder. More teeth.”

Review - Inside Out

Leave it to Pixar – the animation haven that made us believe a rat could cook, and a house could fly, and a robot could fall in love – to make their latest brainchild... well, the brain of a child. Or more specifically, the feelings that make it tick.
As such, Inside Out is the studio's most ambitious concept to date, and also one of its greatest triumphs. This wonderful invention of cinema does more than make you laugh and cry (and it will make you do both); It blithely examines the human condition and what it finds is deceptively profound.

Riley Anderson (voiced by Kaitlyn Diaz) is a perfectly normal, perfectly happy 11-year-old girl. Her early life growing up in Minnesota may seem a bit ordinary on the outside, but her gray matter is anything but gray. Pixar represents it as a bubblegum-tinted world of pure imagination, overseen by the five core emotions – Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger – that literally push her buttons from a command booth in her frontal lobe.

Giving voice to these tiny balls of neurological energy are a quintet of TV comedians who would seem almost too perfectly typecast in a lesser film. It's to their (and the animators') enormous credit that we never get distracted trying to picture the actor behind the caricature.

Review - Mad Max: Fury Road

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. Max is just living in it. Well, existing in it.
By his own admission, survival is the one instinct that he – the last sane man in a world gone crazy – has been reduced to as he wanders through the post-
apocalyptic Wasteland in Mad Max: Fury Road, the fourth in a film series that hasn't revved its engines since 1985.

The real madman is producer-writer-director George Miller. Mad for deciding to pull his long dormant road warrior out of retirement 30 years beyond Thunderdome; Mad for conceiving the sort of world that heretofore could only have existed in a truck-driving anarchist's worst acid trips; And finally, mad for pulling it off with the sheer mind-shredding gusto that filmmakers half his age (he recently turned 70) consistently struggle to inject into modern action movies.

Best not to stand up after seeing this one. It'll melt your bones from the inside.

Review - Avengers: Age of Ultron

Like the return of the swallows to Capistrano or the swarming of the Monarchs from Mexico, the arrival of spring each year is announced with almost natural periodicity by the flocking of moviegoers to the new episode of Marvel Studios' comic book superhero spectacular! Studio head Kevin Feige could probably set his own watch to the volume of ticket receipts pouring in, having masterminded the most lucrative business model in the industry; An interconnected series of lean, lighthearted action films that play to the people's love of Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), the mighty Thor (Chris Hemsworth), the Incredible Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and an ever growing cast of other costumed do-gooders.

All signs would suggest that the fandom's appetite to see Earth's mightiest heroes teaming up again would be as insatiable as it was the first time they hit the big screen together in 2012's box office champ The Avengers. Writer-director Joss Whedon returns for this hotly anticipated sequel, Avengers: Age of Ultron, and wastes no time in giving the public what it wants, kicking off the super-squad's newest adventure with that 'money shot' you've already seen a hundred times in the trailers and TV ads: