If we don't drown, I'm gonna strangle you myself. I don't care how many exploding teeth you try to spit out at me.

Top 10 Films

2018

I don't usually do an annual Top Ten, mainly because I invariably catch up on many of the films that make my list in the subsequent six to twelve months. Nevertheless, here's the current incarnation, subject to considerable change. Included are movies that had their wide release in the UK during 2018, hence several of them may appear quite passé to US readers.

10. Journey’s End

Saul Dibbs brings a compelling and superbly performed – by Paul Bettany in particular – adaptation of RC Sherriff's World War I play to the screen in time for the hundredth anniversary of the armistice. I could quibble at a few of the choices made, but for the most part, what has long-since become a rather stuffy set text gets a welcome shot in the arm. (2.10.18)

9. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Even non-vintage Coen Brothers fare is never less than essential viewing, and this scrappy anthology picture – what anthology isn't scrappy? – yields several pearls, not least Tim Blake Nelson's titular crooner in the opening segment and Zoe Kazan's rattle in the longest and most affecting, The Girl Who Got Rattled. (9.11.18)

8. The Shape of Water

Just like Superman, kind of, you'll believe a woman can have a consenting relationship with a fish. As with most cases of Oscar glory, the filmmaker's best work (Pan's Labyrinth) was previously passed over for the big prize, a lesser echo instead garlanded down the line, but Guillermo del Toro's period fantasy is still a rewarding patchwork of his great obsessions, and blessed by a fine (and Oscar-worthy) central performance from Sally Hawkins. (14.02.18)

7. Isle of Dogs

I was definitely a doubter regarding Wes Anderson's second animated feature, mostly because I previously resisted fully falling for his fast-and-loose adaptation of Fantastic Mr. Fox. But Isle of Dogs finds him putting his best foot forward to offbeat and highly engaging effect; random, blackly humorous and absurd, but anchored by a canine-centric storyline that draws you in and pays off in inimitably satisfying fashion. (30.03.18)

6. A Star is Born

Bradley Cooper’s directorial debut isn't perfect – the third act in particular flounders through repositioning itself to focus on his alcoholic fading country singer at the expense of the star he has made – but what it gets right very nearly compensates. He and Lady Gaga have palpable chemistry, and the tried-and-tested rise/fall template proves itself ever serviceable. (03.10.18)

5. Phantom Thread

That Paul Thomas Anderson and his wilfully auteurish ways. So much so, he can entice Daniel Day-Lewis out of semi-retirement whenever he puts pen to paper. His tale of an indulged dressmaker (Day-Lewis' Mr Woodcock) whose latest conquest (Vicky Krieps) rather sets the cat among his pigeons is told at a leisurely but irresistible pace, such that the perverse relish it takes in its plot twists is all the more striking. Nevertheless, it's undoubtedly Krieps who takes the laurels. (10.02.18)

4. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Not the superhero movie I expected to finish up in my Top Ten of the year – actually, I didn't expect one to make it this time – this Lord and Miller crafted animation, following a host of Spider-Man alts as a means to an origin story for the latest, Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), is endlessly inventive, funny, touching and visually stunning. (12.12.18)

3. Mission: Impossible – Fallout

Perhaps John Woo can be persuaded to do a salvaging re-edit on Mission: Impossible 2? As it stands, it's the only entry in the two-decades-plus spanning franchise thus far that has been less than satisfying. Since the fallout from Oprah's couch jumping that rather dented the prospects of the (underrated) third instalment, Tom Cruise has returned to keeping his mouth shut about scientology and presenting that impossibly nice guy persona to the world. And it’s worked. If I couldn't say Fallout is the best in the series so far, that's only because the last three sequels have been embarrassment of action riches. (25.07.18)

2. Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri

My pick for the Best Picture Oscar of those nominated sees Martin McDonagh return to unbeatable In Bruges form after the very slight hiccup of Seven Psychopaths (most filmmakers can only dream of having a hiccup so enjoyable, though). Naturally, it stirred some controversy, since McDonagh's not the kind of writer to curtsy and make his excuses; it's his head-on approach to subject matter and character that make him one of the best filmmakers around right now (in which respect, he has the edge on his also very talented brother), and it's no coincidence that headlining with Frances McDormand puts one in mind of the skillset that is second nature to the Coen Brothers. (12.01.18)

1. Bad Times at the El Royale

There was a fair degree of anticipation for Drew Goddard's second feature (the first being genre-busting The Cabin in the Woods) that rather fizzled when it arrived to merely respectable notices and less than rapturous box office. On the plus side, that makes it instant cult movie material. On the minus, Goddard ought to have carte blanche to make whatever he so fancies in the future, which means he needs to be bankable.

Anything rigorously written and vaguely in the crime genre these days instantly attracts comparisons to Tarantino, which is fair enough, but Bad Times satisfies on a character level in a manner Tarantino hasn't in years, while offering plot twists that elicit applause for the sheer bravura with which they're executed. Marvellous performances from the ensemble cast too, led by Cynthia Erivo, Jeff Bridges and Jon Hamm. I've said my list will likely look very different in six months’ time, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if Bad Times still tops it. (12.10.18)

Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.

Comments

She was addicted to Tums for a while.

Marriage Story (2019)
(SPOILERS) I don’t tend to fall heavily for Noah Baumbach fare. He’s undoubtedly a distinctive voice – even if his collaborations with Wes Anderson are the least of that director’s efforts – but his devotion to an exclusive, rarefied New York bubble becomes ever more off-putting with each new project. And ever more identifiable as being a lesser chronicler of the city’s privileged quirks than his now disinherited forbear Woody Allen, who at his peak mastered a balancing act between the insightful, hilarious and self-effacing. Marriage Story finds Baumbach going yet again where Woody went before, this time brushing up against the director’s Ingmar Bergman fixation.

You can’t climb a ladder, no. But you can skip like a goat into a bar.

Juno and the Paycock (1930)
(SPOILERS) Hitchcock’s second sound feature. Such was the lustre of this technological advance that a wordy play was picked. By Sean O’Casey, upon whom Hitchcock based the prophet of doom at the end of The Birds. Juno and the Paycock, set in 1922 during the Irish Civil War, begins as a broad comedy of domestic manners, but by the end has descended into full-blown Greek (or Catholic) tragedy. As such, it’s an uneven but still watchable affair, even if Hitch does nothing to disguise its stage origins.

I mean, I am just a dumb bunny, but, we are good at multiplying.

Zootropolis (2016)
(SPOILERS) The key to Zootropolis’ creative success isn’t so much the conceit of its much-vaunted allegory regarding prejudice and equality, or – conversely – the fun to be had riffing on animal stereotypes (simultaneously clever and obvious), or even the appealing central duo voiced by Ginnifier Goodwin (as first rabbit cop Judy Hopps) and Jason Bateman (fox hustler Nick Wilde). Rather, it’s coming armed with that rarity for an animation; a well-sustained plot that doesn’t devolve into overblown set pieces or rest on the easy laurels of musical numbers and montages.

You know what I think? I think he just wants to see one cook up close.

The Green Mile (1999)
(SPOILERS) There’s something very satisfying about the unhurried confidence of the storytelling in Frank Darabont’s two prison-set Stephen King adaptations (I’m less beholden to supermarket sweep The Mist); it’s sure, measured and precise, certain that the journey you’re being take on justifies the (indulgent) time spent, without the need for flashy visuals or ornate twists (the twists there are feel entirely germane – with a notable exception – as if they could only be that way). But. The Green Mile has rightly come under scrutiny for its reliance on – or to be more precise, building its foundation on – the “Magical Negro” trope, served with a mild sprinkling of idiot savant (so in respect of the latter, a Best Supporting Actor nomination was virtually guaranteed). One might argue that Stephen King’s magical realist narrative flourishes well-worn narrative ploys and characterisations at every stage – such that John Coffey’s initials are announcement enough of his…

We live in a twilight world.

Tenet (2020)
(SPOILERS) I’ve endured a fair few confusingly-executed action sequences in movies – more than enough, actually – but I don’t think I’ve previously had the odd experience of being on the edge of my seat during one while simultaneously failing to understand its objectives and how those objectives are being attempted. Which happened a few times during Tenet. If I stroll over to the Wiki page and read the plot synopsis, it is fairly explicable (fairly) but as a first dive into this Christopher Nolan film, I frequently found it, if not impenetrable, then most definitely opaque.

I should have mailed it to the Marx Brothers.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
When your hero(es) ride off into the sunset at the end of a film, it’s usually a pretty clear indication that a line is being drawn under their adventures. Sure, rumours surfaced during the ‘90s of various prospective screenplays for a fourth outing for the whip-cracking archeologist. But I’m dubious anyone really expected it to happen. There seemed to be a natural finality to Last Crusade that made the announcement of his 2007 return nostalgically welcome but otherwise unwarranted. That it turned out so tepid merely seemed like confirmation of what we already knew; Indy’s time was past.

Farewell, dear shithead, farewell.

Highlander II: The Quickening (1991)
(SPOILERS) I saw Highlander II: The Quickening at the cinema. Yes, I actually paid money to see one of the worst mainstream sequels ever on the big screen. I didn’t bother investigating the Director’s Cut until now, since the movie struck me as entirely unsalvageable. I was sufficiently disenchanted with all things Highlander that I skipped the TV series and slipshod sequels, eventually catching Christopher Lambert’s last appearance as Connor MacLeod in Highlander: End Game by accident rather than design. But Highlander II’s on YouTube, and the quality is decent, so maybe the Director’s Cut improve matters and is worth a reappraisal? Not really. It’s still a fundamentally, mystifyingly botched retcon enabling the further adventures of MacLeod, just not quite as transparently shredded in the editing room.

A herbal enema should fix you up.

Never Say Never Again (1983)
(SPOILERS) There are plenty of sub-par Bonds in the official (Eon) franchise, several of them even weaker than this opportunistic remake of Thunderball, but they do still feel like Bond movies. Never Say Never Again, despite – or possibly because he’s part of it – featuring the much-vaunted, title-referencing return of the Sean Connery to the lead role, only ever feels like a cheap imitation. And yet, reputedly, it cost more than the same year’s Rog outing Octopussy.

Do you read Sutter Cane?

In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
(SPOILERS) The concluding chapter of John Carpenter’s unofficial Apocalypse Trilogy (preceded by The Thing and Prince of Darkness) is also, sadly, his last great movie. Indeed, it stands apart in the qualitative wilderness that beset him during the ‘90s (not for want of output). Michael De Luca’s screenplay had been doing the rounds since the ‘80s, even turned down by Carpenter at one point, and it proves ideal fodder for the director, bringing out the best in him. Even cinematographer Gary K Kibbe seems inspired enough to rise to the occasion. It could do without the chugging rawk soundtrack, perhaps, but then, that was increasingly where Carpenter’s interests resided (as opposed to making decent movies).

Charming. Now she's got the old boy's money, she's making a play for the younger one.

Woman of Straw (1964)
(SPOILERS) The first fruit of Sean cashing in on his Bond status in other leading man roles – he even wears the tux he’d later sport in Goldfinger. On one level, he isn’t exactly stretching himself as a duplicitous, misogynist bastard. On the other, he is actually the bad guy; this time, you aren’t supposed to be onside his capacity for killing people. It’s interesting to see Connery in his nascent star phase, but despite an engaging set up and a very fine performance from Ralph Richardson, Woman of Straw is too much of a slow-burn, trad crime thriller/melodrama to really make a mark. All very professionally polished, but the spoiled fruits of an earlier era.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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