The Year in Review: The Best Films of 2014 (Part One)

Tags

2014, A Field in England, Alan Partridge, best films of 2014, cinema, Enemy, favorite films, film reviews, films, Go For Sisters, Grand Budapest Hotel, Movies, Only Lovers Left Alive, personal opinions, The Babadook, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The One I Love, We Are the Best!, Witching and Bitching, year in review

And now, at long last, we get to the final stretch of the race: my selections for the Best Films of 2014. I’ve already listed my favorite horror films of the year but this is the overall list: everything gets thrown into the same pot, regardless of genre. Astute readers will definitely notice a little overlap with the horror list but I attempted to use two very different sets of criteria for judging the films: what may make a film one of the best horror movies of the year won’t necessarily make it one of the best overall films of the year and vice versa.

This was an especially difficult list to make this year for one main reason: I saw an awful lot of good-to-great films in 2014. I didn’t get a chance to see a lot of the “obvious” choices for Best of the Year, such as Nightcrawler or Boyhood, but I did manage to see most of the underdogs and “dark horses,” so to speak. None of this, of course, is by way of saying that my choices are any more valid than the mainstream: we just have slightly different priorities, that’s all.

For me, I define a truly great picture in a very specific way: it really has to move me. It can make me mad as hell, so giddy I’m karate-kicking the wall or so heart-broken that I want to die…but it damn well better make me feel something more than just entertained. Lots of films are entertaining (there are even parts of Sharknado that are entertaining, surprisingly enough) but that’s not quite good enough to make that kind of impression on me. After whittling the 350+ films I watched last year down to a shortlist of the very best 2014 titles, I’ve managed to whittle that down even further to my 21 favorite films of the year. Unlike the horror list, this won’t be in any particular order, save the top slot: if I thought whittling the list down to 20 was impossible (it was), then ranking them seems about as likely as flapping my arms and achieving liftoff.

With no further ado, I now present the first half of my Best of 2014 list. Make sure your trays are in the upright position, fasten your belts and prepare for take-off.

The Twenty-One Best Films of 2014

– – –

The Grand Budapest Hotel

Is The Grand Budapest Hotel Wes Anderson’s “ultimate” film? Despite my never-ending love of and loyalty to Rushmore, I might need to concede this point. Everything about the film speaks to some aspect of Anderson’s back catalog: the fascination with miniatures; the blink-and-you-miss-’em cameos; the “missing father” dynamic that’s at the heart of nearly all his films; the immaculately fashioned production design; the gorgeous cinematography; the “iron fist in a velvet glove” repartee; the intentionally screwy timeline…it’s all here. Holding the whole production together, however, are two of the best performances of the entire year: Ralph Fiennes absolutely owns the film as the impossibly cool, suave M. Gustave but he’s very nearly upstaged by young Tony Revolori as the eternally loyal lobby boy, Zero. There’s a real sense of joy and wonder to the film, along with the requisite Andersonian sense of tragic romance and a supremely dark edge, as well: there’s a real sense of menace and violence to The Grand Budapest that’s strangely missing from most of Anderson’s other films. Plus, you get Willem Dafoe in one of his funnest roles in years. The Grand Budapest Hotel brings Anderson back to the fore in a big way.

– – –

Only Lovers Left Alive

As a rule, I’m not the biggest vampire fan in the world but leave it to Jarmusch to force me to include a vampire flick on my Best of Year list. Only Lovers Left Alive is lush, atmospheric and hazy, the perfect complement to the Bohemian bloodsuckers at its center. There’s something swooningly romantic about the relationship between Adam and Eve, a romance that’s spanned across continents and centuries. Set against the decaying backdrop of modern-day Detroit, Jarmusch spins his usual web and everything about the film is as immaculate as miniature diorama: extra points for John Hurt’s delightful performance as the rakish Christopher Marlowe, Eve’s “shoulder to cry on” since the time of Shakespeare. This isn’t just one of the best films of the year: it’s one of the best films in Jarmusch’s long, distinguished career.

– – –

We Are the Best!

Perfectly capturing the frustrations, joys and miseries of being young and on the fringes of “polite” society, We Are the Best! is, without a doubt, one of the most joyful, exuberant films I saw all year. There’s something undeniably kickass about watching the trio of young girls at the center of the film slowly gain confidence, leading up to the joyful middle-finger attitude that sends the whole thing off on a happy note. Were this just a peppy story, it wouldn’t have stuck the landing as one of the best of the year: writer-director Lukas Moodysson guides everything with an assured hand, however, giving the proceedings just enough bite to give them weight. The scene where Hedvig blows away the chauvinistic music teachers with her display of guitar pyrotechnics may be one of my favorites of the whole year: if you don’t stand and cheer, you probably have coal instead of a heart.

– – –

Go For Sisters

I’ve followed legendary writer-director John Sayles career since I was a kid: Piranha (his first script) was one of my favorite movies, growing up, and I can still remember the first time I saw The Brother From Another Planet. Quite frankly, there’s no one else out there quite like Sayles and there never will be: with an almost uncanny knack for vivid characters and the ability to twist even the most straight-forward situation into a knot, Sayles is truly one of the keystones of “classic” indie film, right along with Jarmusch and Soderbergh. Go For Sisters is Sayles’ second home-run in a row, after the stellar Amigo (2010), and may be one of his best, most fun and most accomplished films yet. This time around, he gets phenomenal performances from LisaGay Hamilton and Yolonda Ross as former best friends who end up on opposite sides of the law, yet must rekindle their friendship in order to help Hamilton find her missing son. Edward James Olmos is reliably excellent as the former lawman-turned-private eye but the entire film, part and parcel, belongs to Hamilton and Ross: if there was any justice in this world, they’d both get nominated for Oscars.

– – –

A Field in England

Trippy, surreal, bizarre and intense, Ben Wheatley’s amazing A Field in England is the closest a film has brought me to insanity since the first time I watched Jodorowsky’s Holy Mountain…umm…”altered,” shall we say.  For most of its runtime, the film is a strange little oddity about deserters during the British Civil War of the 1700s who stumble upon a strange, featureless and unbelievably foreboding field in the middle of nowhere. At a certain point, however, it’s like Wheatley cracks open the egg of knowledge right in your face, splattering your brain pan with so much terrifying insanity that it makes you physically ill. For one of the few times in my entire life, I sat staring at the screen, my mouth hanging wide, drooling everywhere: it’s no lie to say that, for one brief moment, I was standing on the downward slope of sanity, fully prepared to slide off into the abyss. Hyperbole? Maybe but we can talk after the film blows your head off and puts it back upside-down. This, friends and neighbors, is truly experimental cinema at its very best.

– – –

Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa

I’m going to assume that the sound I hear is all of the spit-takes out there, so I’ll give you all a moment to compose yourselves…ready? Good. How, exactly, did the Steve Coogan vehicle Alan Partridge end up on my Best of list? Isn’t this just another dumb big-screen version of another TV show/radio show/Broadway play/public access show/dinner theater-type thingamabob? Maybe yes, maybe no: I’ll admit to knowing nothing whatsoever about the character until I sat down to watch the film, so that certainly wasn’t the draw for me. Here’s what I can say, however: Alan Partridge is, without a doubt, the funniest film I saw in 2014, hands-down. In fact, I laughed so hard at the film that I was frequently crying, when I wasn’t almost falling out of my chair. Ladies and gentlemen: I haven’t laughed that hard in…well, I honestly can’t remember. Everything about the film is hilarious and quote-worthy: from the dream sequence involving a mob of Alans to the awesome dialogue to some of the very best sight gags I’ve ever seen, Alan Partridge is a film that keeps raising the comedy bar, yet effortlessly sails over it every time. Colm Meaney is marvelous as Alan’s put-upon and marginalized co-worker but Steve Coogan is an absolute god as the titular moron. Everything about this film is a complete winner: I’d be shocked if this isn’t considered a cult classic within the next decade or so…you can bet your forensic trousers on it!

– – –

The Babadook

In a year that seemed to split horror fans and critics in a million different directions, there was one thing that almost everyone could agree on: Jennifer Kent’s amazing debut film, The Babadook, was easily one of the highlights. Genuinely scary and with an air of originality missing from much popular horror fare, this Australian tale of a troubled mother and son facing down pure evil is old-fashioned horror given a bright, shiny new coat. If The Babadook were only a full-throttle horror flick, however, it never would have made it past my Best of Horror list. Instead, Kent’s film is just as much about the trials and tortures that parents must deal with when raising children, especially if said children are as immensely troubled as young Samuel is. When the film lets loose, it’s almost too raw to watch: the scenes where the mother tells her young son how much she hates him would be utterly horrifying, with or without the eerie specter of Mr. Babadook hanging over everything.

– – –

Enemy

The first thing you’ll notice about Denis Villeneuve’s Enemy is the sickly, jaundice-yellow hue that seems to infect every frame of the film like some sort of creeping mold, followed by the oppressively thick atmosphere of dread that hangs over everything like a pall. After that, you might notice how many truly odd things happen in the margins of the frame and how little explanation we get for anything that happens. Later on, you might notice how this seemingly simple tale of a man running across his doppelgänger keeps turning and folding over on itself, like a pulsating amoeba cleaving itself in two. By the time you get to the truly stunning finale, an absolutely terrifying revelation that’s the equivalent of waking from a dream and plunging into a nightmare, one thing should be clear beyond all else: Villeneuve’s film is the perfect horror tonic for our era, a surreal dreamscape where the rat race, our eternal search for immortality and our inability to resist flipping over as many rocks as we can results in our complete and utter destruction. Absolutely unforgettable, Enemy is, without a doubt, one of the finest films to come from a rather fine year.

– – –

Witching & Bitching

Alex de la Iglesia’s newest film, Witching & Bitching, opens with a gold heist that involves body-painted street performers (Silver Jesus for the win!) and climaxes with a pitched battle against a towering, blind fertility goddess. Stuffed between these two poles we get plenty of snarky “battle of the sexes” commentary (much of it quite politically incorrect, shall we say), some jaw-dropping practical effects, a sense of humor that can best be described as “out there” (one of the film’s best, most outrageous scenes involves someone hiding inside a toilet) and a romantic angle that starts as a joke and finishes in just about the sweetest way possible. This is a big, loud horror-comedy-fantasy that isn’t afraid to shoot for Peter Jackson by way of Steven Spielberg territory, while still manages to (usually) keep at least one foot anchored on solid ground. Even for a career as varied and delightful as de la Iglesia’s, Witching & Bitching is one varied, delightful film.

– – –

The One I Love

Without a doubt, one of the biggest, best surprises of the entire year, Charlie McDowell’s extraordinary The One I Love is that most impossible of things: an intelligent, trippy, doppelganger-themed love story that manages to shatter conventions left and right. The whole film is grounded by one of my favorite duos of the year, Mark Duplass and Elisabeth Moss: the two are so perfect as the imperfect couple looking to “fix” their broken marriage by way of shrink Ted Danson’s dubious “immersion” therapy that they almost overshadow the rest of the film. Note that I say “almost,” however, since The One I Love has a way of burrowing under your skin and taking root. At times laugh-out-loud funny, at times sinister, occasionally baffling and always brilliant, this was one of the freshest, most original films I saw all year. I know I’ve said this before but in a much weaker year, The One I Love would be a tough act to follow.

– – –

And there we have it: the first half of my Best Films of 2014, in random order. Tune in later as we finish off with the other eleven, including my pick for the very best film of 2014. What will take it all? Who will be left in the dust? Who will survive and what will be left of them? Stay tuned, loyal readers…stay tuned.

7/20/14: Put On Your Forensic Trousers and Dance

Tags

Alan Partridge, Anna Maxwell Martin, based on a radio show, Best of 2013, cinema, Colm Meaney, comedy, Darren Boyd, Declan Lowney, Felicity Montagu, film reviews, films, forensic trousers, hostage situation, Karl Theobald, Monica Dolan, Movies, Nigel Lindsay, Peter Baynham, radio DJs, radio stations, Simon Greenall, Steve Coogan, Tim Key

At one point in Declan Lowney’s outrageously funny Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa (2013), blowhard, egomaniacal radio DJ Alan Partridge (Steve Coogan) ends up locking himself out of the very hostage situation that he’s been sent in to mediate. Determined to make it back inside the studio, Alan attempts to climb in through a nearby window which, of course, doesn’t go quite as planned: the idiot ends up hanging upside-down, sans pants and underwear (but with shirt surprisingly intact). After winnowing his way free, Alan is suddenly confronted by a heavily armed member of the SWAT team, who demands that he raise his hands. The look on Coogan’s face as he dejectedly, but resolutely, raises his hands is proof positive that the British actor is one of the finest comedians in the business, quite possibly this generation’s Peter Sellers.

Like Sellers, Coogan is a gifted chameleon, a mimic that can effortlessly slip into any character and provide it with its own individual tics and quirks, pulling mannerisms out of a black bag in the same way that Lon Chaney might have removed makeup accessories. Sellers had a particular way with facial gestures…an artfully raised eyebrow here, a sly smile there…that is readily apparent with Coogan: were he reduced simply to gestures, it’s quite possible that Coogan would remain just as effective and funny. Also like Sellers, Coogan can vacilate between drama and comedy: Coogan’s recent turn in the Oscar-nominated Philomena (2013) proved that quite handily. In the right vehicle, he’s pretty much unstoppable: Alan Partridge is just such a vehicle and, quite possibly, the funniest film I saw in the past eight months.

I will admit to coming into the film pretty blind: I knew nothing about the actual character of Alan Partridge, although I suspected that Alpha Papa wasn’t his first spin around the block. Turns out that Coogan created Partridge for a radio show, which then spawned TV appearances and the film we see before us. Suffice to say that prior knowledge of the character is not necessary to appreciate the current big-screen adaptation, although I’m sure it enriches the experience.

We’re introduced to our obnoxious, yet strangely loveable, protagonist through his job at a small Norfolk radio station. Alan Partridge is a DJ and the kind of fellow for whom the term “insufferable” was coined: he’s a completely self-absorbed ass, the kind of person who interrupts singing along with his favorite song on the radio to correct another driver. He’s vain, a habitual liar (Alan says that he’s researching “ospreys” on the internet but the reflection in his eyeglasses suggests otherwise) and egotistical asshole who thinks absolutely nothing about throwing someone else under the proverbial bus, be they his personal assistant, Lynn (Felicity Montagu) or his put-upon fellow DJ, Pat (Colm Meaney).

Turns out that Pat is feeling pretty marginalized, as of late, and getting unceremoniously sacked by the new management has led him to take rather drastic action: arming himself with a shotgun, Pat takes the station’s crew hostage, including the new manager, Jason (Nigel Lindsay) and Alan’s beleaguered on-air “sidekick, Simon (Tim Key). He doesn’t get Alan, however, because the “veteran on-air personality” ran for the hills at the first sign of trouble, “comandeering” a surprised motorist’s car in order to drive to the next-door police station. Fate’s not done with Alan just yet, however, as it turns out that Pat will only deal with one person in the entire world: his good “buddy” Alan. Oblivious to the fact that Alan actually sold him up the river to begin with, Pat feels that only another member of the old school will truly see his perspective on the situation. The police agree and send our man Alan back into the fray, armed with a bullet-proof jacket, one whopper of a lie and a complete and total allergy to common sense. It’s up to Alan to defuse the situation, save the lives of the hostages and deliver Pat to the authorities. In other words: they’re all doomed.

One of the most important aspects of a comedy is the film’s actual ability to produce genuine laughs. Over the years, I’ve become more and more used to watching comedies that function more as “clever” than genuinely “funny.” There’s a big difference: clever films might be witty, thought-provoking and apt to produce the odd chuckle here or there but they are not, by and large, the factory whereby big laughs are produced. An actually funny film, however, will produce uncontrollable bursts of laughter: this is an almost primal, ferocious experience. Laughing so hard that you ache is a rare but altogether intense feeling. If there is a short-list for the the films that have made me laugh the hardest over the years, Alan Partridge would certainly deserve a prime spot.

Quite simply, Alpha Papa is an outrageously funny film. The film is a near non-stop barrage of everything from razor-sharp dialogue and one-liners to utterly absurd situational comedy (a dream sequence that involves Coogan as SWAT team members Jason Bourne, Jason Statham and Jason of the Argonauts is a complete classic), physical comedy and blink-and-you-miss-’em visual gags. There’s a throwaway bit, towards the end, where Alan shoots a BB gun and ends up hitting a poster of JFK dead between the eyes: “Not again!” he wails, racing away, and I couldn’t help but feel that Mel Brooks couldn’t do it any better. From “forensic trousers” to “agenda benders” and the “hands-free head holster” (just what any busy radio DJ/hostage-taker needs for multi-tasking), Alpha Papa is a constantly inventive cornucopia of comedy, a “scattergun” approach to the form that involves an astoundingly high ratio of hits to misses. Truth be told, I’m hard-pressed to recall much of the humor that didn’t work for me, although this probably has at least something to do with my particular sensibilities. I know that it definitely has a lot to do with star/creator Coogan.

Coogan is a complete marvel as Alan, a character that manages to not only say and do the worst possible thing in any given situation but manages to do so with such a complete zeal that his dedication to everything (not least of all, himself) is never in doubt. Alan may be a liar, a cheat and an all-around horrible person but, through some miracle, Coogan manages to make him not only tolerable but likeable. You may never trust Alan with your life or your reputation but there’s just something about him that makes you forgive his often despicable acts, time and time again. It’s a similar enigma as with The Office’s Michael Scott but magnified ten fold: Alan Partridge will never have Michael’s misguided altruism because he’s too self-absorbed to even notice other humans. Despite this complete narcissism (at one point, Alan complains that everyone views him as some sort of “Christ 2.0” and you get the idea that he genuinely believes this), Alan still has the ability to step up when necessary and do the right thing, even if it doesn’t always benefit him.

While Coogan is fantastic as Alan (possibly a career-best performance), he’s got a more than capable ensemble backing him up. Veteran actor Colm Meaney has always been a great performer but his turn as Pat Farrell certainly belongs in his personal Hall of Fame. By turns proud, wounded and pissed off, Pat is a complex character, as far from a plot device or a MacGuffin as it gets. There is some genuine poignancy to the scene where Pat and Alan discuss their boyhood dreams and a rousing bit of wish-fulfillment when the pair hit the road in the “broadcasting bus” to bring the truth to the common man. This may be Alan’s show but Pat is a vital component and Meaney’s performance is a great counter-balance to Coogan’s manic energy.

Great performances abound, however: Nigel Lindsay brings the proper amount of middle-management sleaze to his portrayal of station head Jason, Monica Dolan is hilariously “clingy” as Alan’s on-again/off-again fling Angela and Anna Maxwell Martin is so starched that she practically creaks as Janet Whitehead, head of the SWAT task-force. Special mention must go to Felicity Montagu as Alan’s personal assistant, however. Lynn is a remarkable character, by turns slavishly devoted to Alan’s personal and career-wellbeing, at other times as easily distracted by the trappings of “fame” as a bird is to shiny objects. Montagu is a riot and nearly steals all of her scenes, no small feat when working so closely with Coogan.

I could go on and on about Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa but the bottom-line is pretty simple: the film is an absolute and complete gem. It’s uproariously funny, full of heart, deeply incisive, stuffed to bursting with interesting characters and anchored by a phenomenal lead performance via the indomitable Steve Coogan. While there is no such thing as a universal comedy, I’m hard-pressed to think that anyone couldn’t find something to laugh at in Alpha Papa. It may be a little early to declare a film from 2013 as a “classic” but I’m going to go out on a limb here: Alpha Papa is just about as classic as it gets.