15. “Color Out Of Space”
“Hereditary” composer Colin Stetson is your go-to guy when you want your film to take audiences somewhere they haven’t quite gone before. When the film in question features teenaged Wiccans on horseback, a stoner who reads The Necronomicon, Tommy Chong as a squatter mystic, and Nicolas Cage doing battle with a barn full of deformed livestock, Stetson might just be the only man for the job. This year’s slept-on grindhouse oddity “Color Out of Space” is actually an oddball art film disguised as a viscera-soaked Midnight Movie, and while the film’s winking sense of camp, its slow-cooking unease, and its plentiful body horror freakouts undeniably signal the return of cult director Richard Stanley, this wigged-out genre riff is still an exceptional platform for the very singular, meme-able talents of its star, Nicolas Cage, which is to say nothing of Stetson’s formidable contributions. Stetson’s iridescent, almost metallic, synth-heavy sound is an ideal complement for the hallucinatory passages when Stanley decides to simply flood the screen with otherworldly splashes of fuchsia and magenta, and forbidding standouts like “Alpacalypse,” “The Color,” and “Reservoir” summon the analog-electro majesty of both John Carpenter and Tangerine Dream. Frankly, the richly layered soundscape for “Color Out Of Space” is a huge reason why the movie transcends its status as just another piece of late-career, post-“Mandy” Cage schlock: in Stetson’s capable hands, this otherworldly brew becomes something else entirely. – NL
14. “Da 5 Bloods”
Terence Blanchard’s scores for his regular collaborator Spike Lee are very rarely subtle: they are instead booming, intense, operatic compositions, and the stuff of pure cinema. Rarely has Blanchard’s bombastic sound felt more appropriately suited to Lee’s directorial approach than in “Da 5 Bloods,” a staggeringly brilliant piece of political agitprop bolstered considerably by the swaggering grandeur of Blanchard’s sonic vision. “Da 5 Bloods” offers a righteous and ingeniously discomfiting look at a generation of Black heroes anxious to proclaim the one major thing that our country has repeatedly denied them: their right to return home to a life worth living. The film’s pivots from old-guy buddy comedy to melodrama to harrowing anti-war film are consistently anchored by Blanchard’s unwavering aural confidence, which is to say nothing of the film’s deployment of cuts from Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” a seminal R&B record whose social consciousness is informed, in a very deep way, by the looming shadow of Vietnam, and the effect it had on Black soldiers in particular. Early use of “Got To Give It Up” is agreeably breezy, but a stunning a capella cover of Gaye’s immortal protest anthem used in the film’s final stretch is nothing less than soul-shattering in its impact. – NL
13. “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story Of Fire Saga”
PLAY JA JA DING DONG!!! With “Eurovision Song Quest: The Story of Fire Saga,” Will Ferrell is giving us his version of what Adam Sandler has been doing for the past four or five years as a part of his ongoing Netflix deal: cranking out a more family-friendly variation on the man-child Greatest Hits shtick that’s made him one of Hollywood’s most bankable comic stars. That said, the songs in this unapologetically goofy and good-natured musical comedy are arguably the best thing about the overall package: they’re reason enough to watch the movie, even if you don’t count yourself as a Ferrell fan. The original tunes for David Dobkin’s comedy are catchy, melodic, and often much stronger in their harmonic construction than they have to be (some of the soundtrack’s credited songsmiths have penned massive radio smashes for pop superstars like Ariana Grande and The Weeknd). Whether it’s “Double Trouble,” the movie’s centerpiece Europop bop, or “Lion of Love,” the signature anthem of Dan Stevens’ campy Russian ham Alexander Lemtov, the songs in “Eurovision Song Contest” are some of the funniest faux-pop ditties we’ve heard since 2016’s tragically underrated “Pop Star: Never Stop Never Stopping.” I mean, seriously, did you think a soundtrack that includes songs with titles like “Coolin’ With Da Homies,” “Jaja Ding Dong,” and “Volcano Man” was NOT going to make this list? – NL
12. “Lovers Rock”
Steve McQueen’s talents as a visual artist need no further elucidation at this point, but he’s always typically employed his one-of-a-kind eye to service grueling and rather severe narratives (“Hunger,” “Mangrove”), which makes the explosion of unfettered euphoria in “Lovers Rock,” the second installment in his “Small Axe” anthology, all the more welcome. “Lovers Rock” is almost entirely pure sound and movement: there is next to no dialogue in this swooning, ecstatic tale of one night at a West London house party, and the film itself moves along to the lilt and sway of a mesmeric collection of ’80s reggae, dub, and dancehall hymns. McQueen wants us to feel like we’re at the party: he wants us to smell the curry in the kitchen and the ganja smoke wafting through the air, and when the rhythms of the shindig itself transform from lovers slowly rocking in each other’s arms to a more aggressive form of moshing, you’re right there in the midst of the violent fray. There are several uses of music that rank with McQueen’s best, including a serotonin-boosting use of the vintage funk anthem “Kung Fu Fighting” and a spirited rendition of Janet Kay’s “Silly Games” that is transcendent enough to feel like a religious experience. We may not be able to gather and dance the night away with our friends anymore, or at least not for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, the beatific musical joys of “Lovers Rock” offer more than enough compensation. – NL
11. “Kajillionaire”
Miranda July simply doesn’t think about things in the way that you or I might: her world is one of heartsick shoe salesmen, talking cats, sudden, unexplained earthquakes, and violent bouts of whimsy and random coincidence. The universe she presents in her artistic output is an upside-down snow globe of modern-day magical realism, sometimes unfolding within the more drab or lesser-photographed corners of Los Angeles, in which the mundane and the miraculous coexist side by side. “Kajillionaire,” July’s warm, wacky, and winning third picture, sees the artistic polymath at her most lovable: it’s a fairy-tale class satire that takes place in a recognizably poverty-stricken world that very much qualifies as “real,” and yet, somehow, never betrays the festive and capricious sense of wonder that is essential to creator’s artistic voice. The film’s score, by the insanely talented Emile Mosseri (who scored “Minari,” also on this list, and 2019’s “The Last Black Man In San Francisco”) is nothing less than integral to the film’s overall success. “Rile Me Up” is groovy and slinky enough to sound like a B-side overheard on public radio, while the quixotic “Bubbles Beat” has echoes of both Jon Brion and The Flaming Lips, and the soundtrack’s gorgeously spare cover of “Mr. Lonely” gets a major boost from indie-folk darling Angel Olsen. In that way, “Kajillionaire” isn’t just a movie you experience – it’s also a movie you listen to. – NL
