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Article by Mark Dujsik | December 26,
2015
Here
are the ten best films of 2015:
10.
Bridge of Spies
Steven
Spielberg, the ever-reliant cinematic optimist, might not seem like the
appropriate choice to direct material as overtly cynical as Bridge
of Spies, but Spielberg, the humanist, brings a level of empathy to even the
most blatant of political movers and shakers throughout this dramatization of a
curious episode from the Cold War. The story is about a principled man in a
world of ideologues and power-seekers. It's two stories, actually. The first
follows James B. Donovan (Tom Hanks, earnest and commandingly still), a New York
City attorney, as he defends Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance, communicating fear and
melancholy behind his stone-faced exterior), an indicted Soviet spy, in a show
trial meant to display the United States' moral superiority to the Soviet Union.
The second story pits Donovan against Soviet and East German politicians and
bureaucrats in negotiations to free a U.S. pilot. The stakes are incredibly
high, but this is a game for everyone but Donovan. The screenplay by Matt
Charman and Ethan and Joel Coen lets us see the threat and the absurdity of this
situation, and Spielberg's attention to character adds a layer of lament to the
proceedings—if only we could recognize how united we are in our foibles.
9.
About Elly
While
away on a weekend trip to a seaside lodge, a young woman disappears. None of her
companions knows where she has gone. Has she drowned while trying to save a
child, or did she run away from the place, putting the child in danger? The
central mystery of writer/director Asghar Farhadi's About
Elly is not what happened to this woman. That mysterious incident incites
layers upon layers of tiny lies and major deceptions, as the group of friends
and spouses tries to make the best of a dire and possibly tragic situation. They
come to realize that they don't know anything about the missing woman, and they
fear the worst, hope for the best, and guess at her possible motives. From
there, they start to learn how little they actually know about people they have
known for years. This is a simple story, but Farhadi imbues it with conflicts
that arise naturally as the characters' beliefs about their companions or
spouses are challenged. No matter what the woman's fate may be, there is only
pain waiting at the end of this, and the film is devastating because the lies
these characters tell to avoid that pain are necessary, useless, and dreadfully
familiar.
8.
It Follows
Here's a horror film that doesn't resort to the cheap scare tactics or rely on blood
and gore as a substitute for horror. It
Follows is a horror film with a deviously simple conceit: There's a thing,
and it will follow its target until it catches and kills the person.
Writer/director David Robert Mitchell trusts the concept and follows the idea
through to its necessary ends. From its enigmatic tease of an opening sequence
until its sobering finale, Mitchell establishes a permeating atmosphere of the
unknown, which remains even as we learn the specifics of the threat that is
pursuing our heroine, a young woman (played by Maika Monroe) who also becomes
the target of male gazing. The film's technique is as simple and effective as
the conceit, with Mitchell and cinematographer Mike Gioulakis using long shots
and takes, as well as spinning establishing shots, to keep us searching for the
entity hunting the protagonist. It's a nearly relentless experience, although
the film does take some respites, and those exhales from the tension provide
opportunities to deconstruct the genre's more persistent clichés. They're
clever and lend authority to Mitchell's understanding of the genre, but the
proof of his command of it is in the execution.
7.
Mustang
A gossipy neighbor, who mistakes an innocent game for an act of sexual
gratification, turns the lives of five girls upside-down in director Deniz Gamze
Ergüven's debut feature. Mustang is
the story of orphaned sisters living with their grandmother and their authoritarian
uncle in a villa home in a remote part of Turkey. The adults
believe the girls are destined for corruption, and after the sisters stage a
clandestine outing to a soccer game, the uncle transforms the house into a
prison, holding the girls in place until the grandmother can arrange marriages
for each of her granddaughters. Ergüven and co-screenwriter Alice Winocour
deftly balance beats of comedy and tragedy amidst an overarching sensation of
righteous anger against the injustice of the situation. Underneath it all runs a
current of mounting rebellion, led by Lale (Günes Sensoy, a most promising
newcomer), the youngest of the sisters, who sees through the nature of
conservative values transformed into oppression. As infuriating and destructive
as this scenario is, there is something undeniably joyous in the fight,
especially within the ironic climax, during which Lale shows how a prison can
easily become a fortress. It's a film of overwhelming hope that freedom should
always be sought and can be achieved.
6.
Mad Max: Fury Road
In terms of story, Mad Max: Fury Road is
a chase film and nothing more. It's not a skeletal story. The screenplay by
director George Miller, Brendan McCarthy, and Nick Lathouris scrapes away at the
distracting tissue of a barebones plot until only the marrow remains. One party,
which includes Max (Tom Hardy) and Imperator Furiosa (a commanding Charlize
Theron), is on the run, and up to three other groups are in pursuit. Pointing
out the plot's simplicity is not an insult. At a time when so many action movies
overwhelm us with plot, here is a lesson in economical storytelling that
defiantly takes the stance that less is more. This, of course, leaves Miller
plenty of room to offer up more where it counts. In this case, though, it's not
just more but more, more, more, more, and, for good measure, more. This is an
action spectacle in which the action is genuinely spectacular, offering a robust
combination of practical stunt work and digital effects in which it becomes
impossible to tell the difference between the two. Words seem insufficient to
describe the nearly non-stop barrage of carnage that follows. This is a film
that repeatedly surprises us with how far Miller, his team, and the performers
are willing to take this bold, ingenious thrill machine.
5.
The Look of Silence
Adi, the man at the center of The Look of
Silence, watches video of two men explaining how they brutally murdered
Adi's brother, along with truckloads of suspected or actual communists from a
nearby prison camp. We've heard stories like this one before in director Joshua
Oppenheimer's The Act of Killing,
which followed some of the perpetrators of the mass killings that took place in
Indonesia between 1965 and 1966. In his follow-up/companion piece to that
earlier film, Oppenheimer looks into those who were affected by that evil. Adi,
who believes he notes some regret within the men who killed his brother, wants
to approach some of the perpetrators, who have never been punished for their
actions because the political system that orchestrated the killings is still in
power. There's a dismal sense of dramatic irony to the proceedings, because we
know Adi's goal of uncovering guilt from these men will be impossible. His
endeavor is one not only of a great naiveté but also of tremendous courage. He
looks at these men, who personally killed or oversaw the massacre of hundreds or
thousands of political "enemies," and tries to convince them that they
were wrong. They let us know, in no uncertain terms, that another mass killing
is just a politically expedient excuse away from happening again. Like and
perhaps more so than its predecessor, this film is an act of moral necessity.
4.
Matt Shepard Is a Friend of
Mine
Director Michele Josue's first film is a work of raw, unfiltered emotion. Matt Shepard Is a Friend of Mine is as much about a filmmaker's
search for answers as it is about the life, death, and legacy of the film's
eponymous subject. It's the story of Matthew Shepard, who was viciously murdered
in 1998 because of his sexuality, as seen through the eyes of someone who is
still unclear about who her friend was, still in pain over the loss, and still
confused about what his murder means in some grander scheme. We too often debate
whether or not a documentary should strive for "objectivity." Here's a
film that furthers the argument that subjectivity is not only unavoidable but
also a means of uncovering truth. Josue does give us the "objective"
side of things: interviews with family and friends, home videos and photographs
of Shepard, and a breakdown of the crime and the subsequent trial of his
murderers. It's not the general approach that matters as much as the specific
pieces. Because Josue was Shepard's friend, though, the interviews are intimate
and forthright, and she has access that perhaps an impartial observer would not.
This is an emotionally wrenching film. If there is an answer here, it's that
grief is a constant, and Josue fearlessly allows us to share in hers and offers
a powerful glimpse into the grief of others.
3.
Brooklyn
A great, old-fashioned melodrama, Brooklyn
has an attentive, unwavering focus on its protagonist, which turns this story
into much more than a string of obstacles and conflicts. We're not watching a
young woman encounter and endure a series of problems. We're watching that young
woman learn from them and grow as a human being as a result. The film explores a
simple but profound idea: that the best a person can achieve is to take control
of the shape of one's own life. Eilis (Saoirse Ronan, in a phenomenal portrayal
of gradual but unstoppable transformation), an Irish immigrant who comes to New
York City to seek a job and a more fulfilling life, changes from a shy,
unassertive woman who is torn between two worlds into one who is confident, able
and willing to speak her mind, and more certain about what she wants from life.
We're able to pinpoint every doubt she has and every decision she makes. There's
also a genuinely romantic love story between the character and Tony (a wholesome
and sincere Emory Cohen) that understands that people can be of different
attitudes about a relationship while still being on the same page. The
screenplay by Nick Hornby (based on Colm Tóibín's novel) respects and admires
Eilis, and director John Crowley's film earns every moment of doubt, every minor
triumph, and every tear of sorrow and joy. This is like some lovely modern
fable—a warm embrace of a film, full of compassion, pain, and hope.
2.
Inside Out
Inside
Out announces itself as something special with its opening scene, as we witness the
birth of consciousness within the mind of newborn baby girl. There's a flood of
feelings and sensations unleashed by the scene, and perhaps the most notable one
is how right it feels, as that newly formed consciousness takes on the form of
Joy (voice of Amy Poehler) at the baby's first look at her parents. Here is a
film that dares to envision the unknowable mystery of the human mind, while
still finding a balance between creative playfulness and earnest concern for its
characters—of the human and emotional varieties. Peter Docter's
computer-animated film suggests greatness at the start and follows through on
that promise, using the great enigma as a springboard to leap at possibilities,
grasp at them, and take hold.
The film follows the escapades of the emotions within the mind of an 11-year-old
girl who has just moved to a new city. The change causes some upheaval within
the girl's mind, as Sadness (voice of Phyllis Smith) begins to take over the
girl's every action and to tint her memories in melancholy. The film raises a
multitude of questions that it doesn't care to answer, but it doesn't matter,
because the film is so clearly enraptured with the possibilities presented in
those questions. The film's capacity for inventing new spaces, based on such
things as abstract thoughts and the subconscious, seems limitless, and as we
come to know the workings of her mind, we come to empathize with girl who
possesses it. This is a unique, enthralling creation of boundless energy and
inspiration.
1.
Spotlight
The tone in regards to the sex abuse scandal throughout the Catholic Church may have
changed between the time it came to light and now, but that does not reduce the
urgency of Spotlight, the best film of
2015. The story may dramatize the way the "Spotlight" team of the Boston
Globe uncovered widespread abuse and a cover-up within the archdiocese's
hierarchy, which helped to expose even more criminal activity and corruption,
but this is also a film about the fallibility of systems that cannot live up to
their lofty ideals. Director Tom McCarthy's film shows that too many
institutions within the public trust—the Church, the justice system, and
journalism, which is the film's central focus—failed in significant ways when
it came to this scandal. The reason is simple: These systems may have pure
goals, but they are run by humans, who are far from pure.
That's the bigger picture. The more specific one looks at the journalistic process with
enough respect to delve into the particulars. McCarthy and Josh Singer's
screenplay doesn't glamorize the profession. The work is arduous. The politics
of the newsroom, the personal views of the reporters, and editorial decisions
are as important as research and interviews. The film explores how the job and
this story in particular affect these characters, who must contend with their
own biases and the ethics of keeping this information secret until the story
runs, and it approaches the horrific reality faced by survivors with an
abundance of compassion. This is a vital reminder that our institutions have
failed in the past and will continue to do so. It's also a prime example of the
unmitigated good that can happen when one rises to the occasion.
Honorable Mention:
Amy,
The Big Short, Creed,
The End of the Tour, The
Hunting Ground, The Last
Five Years, Listen to
Me Marlon, Love &
Mercy, Mississippi
Grind, Queen of Earth,
Room, Sicario,
Tomorrowland, Unexpected
Copyright © 2015 by Mark Dujsik. All
rights reserved.
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