Though I don’t rival Chidi (reminder to all reading, you should watch “The Good Place” on NBC) in my indecision, the biggest stress for me recently – other than “Black Mirror“‘s panic-inducing interactive “Bandersnatch” episode – was attempting to narrow down 2018’s best films into just 10 favorites. I was tempted to go the route of The New Yorker, making a list of 40 of the year’s top movies, but that seems like cheating – and far too much writing.
2018 was a year of non-stop movie magic, with some of the year’s best arriving in theaters in normally desolate months like January, February, and April, drawing me back to screening rooms and theaters with regularity and delight from winter through the fall. These weren’t just good films; they were great ones, innovative in the stories they told, how they told them and who was doing the telling.
10. “Widows”
Steven Soderbergh is a modern master of the heist genre, but there’s rarely a sense of real stakes in his crime films. But with “Widows,” filmmaker Steve McQueen offers a picture with real narrative, emotional and social heft that somehow still offers the gleeful thrills that are hallmarks of the genre without ever being glib. Part of the fun here is seeing the women of the title – played by Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez and Elizabeth Debicki – take over their dearly departed husbands’ roles in the criminal world, adapting and scrambling to do their first job. More of the fun is watching the cast: Davis is predictably great, of course, but Debicki, as well as Cynthia Erivo, are the surprise – or they would be if you hadn’t seen them elsewhere (get thee to ‘the El Royale’)– and the chemistry between the four women is full of frisson. There’s so much pleasure in watching the world that McQueen and his co-writer Gillian Flynn have offered, with small details paying off delightfully. McQueen’s fourth feature collaboration with DP Sean Bobbitt boasts some of the pair’s best work to date, particularly in how it sets up the Chicago neighborhood that plays such an intrinsic part of the film as well in how he shoots his stars, allowing them to be simultaneously beautiful, sturdy and entirely human.
9. “Shoplifters”
Plenty of elements in Hirokazu Kore-eda’s family-centric drama should weigh it down with such heaviness that it feels like a slog: abuse, neglect, poverty, and even death. But the trick of “Shoplifters” is its lightness; it never ignores the sadness and struggles of the Shibata family, but there’s joy here, too. Whether tasting a croquette or listening to – not even seeing – a fireworks display, Osamu (Lily Franky), his wife Nobuyo (Sakura Andô) and their children (Jyo Kairi and Miyu Sasaki, both heartbreaking) find delight in small moments that they share with each other and the audience. Kore-eda is always gracious, both with these gifts to his viewers as well as in his treatment of the characters. As the title indicates, they’re imperfect, but he refuses to judge them. Instead, each reveal of who they are and their history together brings us closer to them, when the reveal in other hands would’ve alienated the audience. Kore-eda deeply cares for his creations, and it’s impossible for us not to do the same.
8. “Can You Ever Forgive Me?”
The New York City of Marielle Heller’s 1990s-set comedy isn’t the same shiny, welcoming one you’d see in rom-coms of the era. In its first moments, “Can You Ever Forgive Me?” reminds us of the city’s grime and how truly difficult it is to live in and love. The same can be said of the film’s protagonist, real-life writer, and unlikely con artist, Lee Israel (Melissa McCarthy), and her only friend, Jack Hock (a charmingly pathetic Richard E. Grant), two prickly characters which logic dictates that we should dislike, but somehow we only want to spend more time with. There’s a bitterness to McCarthy’s Lee that is in opposition to her public persona and her most famous roles, but the actress pulls it off, not caring whether we like her and making us only care more. Each element – including the witty script from Nicole Holofcener, Heller’s guiding hand, and the beguiling performances – works in tandem to craft a film about fakery that feels entirely authentic.
7. “If Beale Street Could Talk”
Swooning devotion and righteous anger dwell side by side in Barry Jenkins’ sublime adaptation of James Baldwin’s novel. The year’s most achingly romantic film, “If Beale Street Could Talk” doesn’t center on an easy love where the only hurdles are ones that the partners could skip over without missing a step. Instead, this drama set in Harlem in the ‘70s centers on the tender relationship between Tish (Kiki Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James), as she works to save him from a prison sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. But despite being set decades ago, the rage here feels fresh – and it should, as nearly half a century hasn’t been enough to drastically improve America’s justice system or its prisons, especially for Black men and the people who love them. Jenkins holds these two emotions – love and anger – in a delicate balance, allowing his characters and audience to feel each in equal measure, all while viewers sit in awe of the visuals. He reunites with his “Moonlight” DP James Laxton, and together they capture Harlem and the actors with such a gorgeous glow that it’s impossible to look away, even when the feelings promise to overwhelm you.
6. “Leave No Trace”
Simultaneously delicate and sturdy, Debra Granik’s long-awaited follow-up to “Winter’s Bone” is a gentle study in compassion and humanity. As with her previous film, “Leave No Trace” illuminates a world outside the cities and suburbs that isn’t often seen on screen, this time introducing audiences to Will (Ben Foster) and Tom (Thomasin McKenzie), a father and daughter who live off the grid in the Oregon woods. Like its two central characters, this is a quiet film. However, Granik and her co-writer Anne Rosellini have much to say about family, the structure of modern society and where people fit in each. Foster has often been the best part of a number of films he’s starred in like “The Messenger” and “3:10 to Yuma,” and he’s wonderful here as the PTSD-suffering but devoted father, but McKenzie is an incredible discovery who deserves the same credit that Jennifer Lawrence got for her work with Granik in “Winter’s Bone.” Her performance makes “Leave No Trace” the tender, precious drama the audience is privileged to watch and walk away from with a deeper appreciation for the experiences of people like Will and Tom.
