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

You're not only wrong. You're wrong at the top of your voice.

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)
I’ve seen comments suggesting that John Sturges’ thriller hasn’t aged well, which I find rather mystifying. Sure, some of the characterisations border on the cardboard, but the director imbues the story with a taut, economical backbone.

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.

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
(MINOR SPOILERS) Since the painful misstep of Grindhouse/Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino has regained the higher ground like never before. Pulp Fiction, his previous commercial and critical peak, has been at very least equalled by the back-to-back hits of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Having been underwhelmed by his post Pulp Fiction efforts (albeit, I admired his technical advances as a director in Kill Bill), I was pleasantly surprised by Inglourious Basterds. It was no work of genius (so not Pulp Fiction) by any means, but there was a gleeful irreverence in its treatment of history and even to the nominal heroic status of its titular protagonists. Tonally, it was a good fit for the director’s “cool” aesthetic. As a purveyor of postmodern pastiche, where the surface level is the subtext, in some ways he was operating at his zenith. Django Unchained is a retreat from that position, the director caught in the tug between his all-important aesthetic pr…

You must find the keys for me!

Doctor Who The Keys of Marinus
Most of the criticisms levelled at The Keys of Marinus over the past 50 years have been fair play, and yet it’s a story I return to as one of the more effortlessly watchable of the Hartnell era. Consequently, the one complaint I can’t really countenance is that it’s boring. While many a foray during this fledgling period drags its heels, even ones of undeniable quality in other areas, Marinus’ shifting soils and weekly adventures-in-miniature sustain interest, however inelegant the actual construction of those narratives may be. The quest premise also makes it a winner; it’s a format I have little resistance to, even when manifested, as here, in an often overtly budget-stricken manner.

Doctor Who has dabbled with the search structure elsewhere, most notably across The Key to Time season, and ultimately Marinus’ mission is even more of a MacGuffin than in that sextology, a means to string together what would otherwise be vignettes to little overall coherence…

Poor Easy Breezy.

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019)
(SPOILERS) My initial reaction to Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood was mild disbelief that Tarantino managed to hoodwink studios into coming begging to make it, so wilfully perverse is it in disregarding any standard expectations of narrative or plotting. Then I remembered that studios, or studios that aren’t Disney, are desperate for product, and more especially, product that might guarantee them a hit. Quentin’s latest appears to be that, but whether it’s a sufficient one to justify the expense of his absurd vanity project remains to be seen.

I take Quaaludes 10-15 times a day for my "back pain", Adderall to stay focused, Xanax to take the edge off, part to mellow me out, cocaine to wake me back up again, and morphine... Well, because it's awesome.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)
Along with Pain & Gain and The Great Gatsby, The Wolf of Wall Street might be viewed as the completion of a loose 2013 trilogy on the subject of success and excess; the American Dream gone awry. It’s the superior picture to its fellows, by turns enthralling, absurd, outrageous and hilarious. This is the fieriest, most deliriously vibrant picture from the director since the millennium turned. Nevertheless, stood in the company of Goodfellas, the Martin Scorsese film from which The Wolf of Wall Street consciously takes many of its cues, it is found wanting.

I was vaguely familiar with the title, not because I knew much about Jordan Belfort but because the script had been in development for such a long time (Ridley Scott was attached at one time). So part of the pleasure of the film is discovering how widely the story diverges from the Wall Street template. “The Wolf of Wall Street” suggests one who towers over the city like a behemoth, rather than a guy …

Nobody trusts anybody now. We’re all very tired.

The Thing (1982)
(SPOILERS) The Thing has been thesis fodder for years, as much so as any given pre-1990 Cronenberg movie, and has popularly been seen as a metaphor for AIDS and even climate change. Now, of course, provided we’re still in a world where film is studied in the aftermath and we haven’t ball been assimilated in one form or another, such staples are sure to be scrubbed away by an inundation of bids to apply the Coronavirus to any given text (much in the way Trump has been popularly overwritten onto any particular invidious fictional figure you care to mention in the most tedious shorthand). And sure, there’s fertile ground here, with rampant paranoia and social distancing being practised among those in Outpost 31 (the “virus” can even be passed on by pets). That flexibility, however, is the key to the picture’s longevity and effectiveness; ultimately, it is not the nature of the threat (as undeniably and iconically gruey and Lovecraftian as it is), but rather the response of…

Oh man, they wronged you. Why they gotta be like that? You exude a cosmic darkness.

Mandy (2018)
(SPOILERS) Sometimes you're left scratching your head over a movie, wondering what it was about it that had others rapturously raving while you were left shrugging. I at least saw the cult appeal of Panos Cosmatos’ previous picture, Beyond the Black Rainbow, which inexorably drew the viewer in with a clinically psychedelic allure before going unceremoniously off the boil with a botched slasher third act. Mandy, though, has been pronounced one of the best of the year, with a great unhinged Nic Cage performance front and centre – I can half agree with the latter point – but it's further evidence of a talented filmmaker slave to a disconcertingly unfulfilling obsession with retro-fashioning early '80s horror iconography.

It always seems a bit abstract, doesn’t it? Other people dying.

Game of Thrones Season Six
(SPOILERS) The most distracting thing about Season Six of Game of Thrones (and I’ve begun writing this at the end of the seventh episode, The Broken Man) is how breakneck its pace is, and how worryingly – only relatively, mind – upbeat it’s become. Suddenly, characters are meeting and joining forces, not necessarily mired in pits of despair but actually moving towards positive, attainable goals, even if those goals are ultimately doomed (depending on the party concerned). It feels, in a sense, that liberated from George R R Martin’s text, producers are going full-throttle, and you half-wonder if they’re using up too much plot and revelation too quickly, and will run out before the next two seasons are up. Then, I’m naturally wary of these things, well remembering how Babylon 5 suffered from packing all its goods into Season Four and was then given an ultimately wasted final season reprieve.

I’ve started this paragraph at the end of the eighth episode, No One (t…

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