It was not the greatest year for film but we still got some gems. Here are, in my opinion, the ten best:
1. ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT (directed by Edward Berger):
Nearly one hundred years after Lewis Milestone adapted Erich Maria Remarque’s groundbreaking novel, German filmmaker Edward Berger has brought All Quiet on the Western Front to life with a fresh perspective—and the first German adaptation of a story deeply ingrained into the very DNA of the country. Set in the midst of World War I, the film’s focus narrows on Paul Bäumer (Felix Kammerer) and his small group of friends that get lured into war by the promise of heroism and patriotism. But there are no heroes in this war, a fact that Berger makes evident throughout the film. Paul might be the film’s protagonist—the heart and soul of the story that the audience sees the world through—but this is not a hero’s journey. All Quiet on the Western Front is a welcome departure from a long line of profound World War I films such as Sam Mendes’ 1917 or, more recently, Operation Mincemeat because there is no one to root for and there is no positive outcome on the horizon. (COLLIDER)
2. AFTERSUN (directed by Charlotte Wells):
A stunning debut that develops with the gradual poignancy of a Polaroid, Charlotte Wells’ “Aftersun” isn’t just an honest movie about the way that we remember the people we’ve lost — fragmented, elusive, nowhere and everywhere all at once — it’s also a heart-stopping act of remembering unto itself. Here, in the span of an oblique but tender story that feels small enough to fit on an instant photo (or squeeze into the LCD screen of an old camcorder), Wells creates a film that gradually echoes far beyond its frames. By the time it reaches fever pitch with the greatest Freddie Mercury needle drop this side of “Wayne’s World,” “Aftersun” has begun to shudder with the crushing weight of all that we can’t leave behind, and all that we may not have known to take with us in the first place. (INDIEWIRE)
3. EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (directed by Dan Kwan & Daniel Scheinert):
In many ways, Everything Everywhere All At Once is the Daniels creating the chaos they’d hoped to see in the world, a movie in which commercial impositions cannot exist without artistic consequences. The plot concerns Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh), the owner of a failing laundromat, who has a lesbian daughter who resents her (Stephanie Hsu), a husband who’s sick of being ignored (Ke Huy Quan), and an ailing father with a series of crushing expectations (James Hong). Then one day, a version of her husband who isn’t really her husband shows up to explain that there’s a disturbance in the fabric of space-time or some such, and that Evelyn might actually be the key to everything. (UPROXX)
4. HIT THE ROAD (directed by Panah Panahi):
despite all the exuberant Iranian ballads we get to hear over the course of “Hit The Road” (apparently, all pre-revolution songs that today’s administration frowns upon, according to Panahi), this isn’t an inherently blissful yarn, as the mournful keys of a Schubert piece remind us throughout. For every laugh the family lets out, for each merry chance encounter they experience—like an oddly hysterical one with a Lance Armstrong-loving cyclist—there are tears shed in secret, cagey deals made in the shadows and the impending separation they inch closer to with every passing moment. Still, Panahi doesn’t abandon his sense of hope or humor in the final stretch. By the border, under twinkly stars that defy the pitch-black skies, he winks at the audience with a magical, low-key Kubrickian cosmic scene that centers the film on the innocence of the young child. It’s an unforgettable parting note by a filmmaker that both honors his father’s ongoing legacy, and inaugurates his unique, very own voice. (ROBERT EBERT.COM)
5. GREAT FREEDOM (directed by Sebastian Meise):
Meise depicts the prison in a way rarely seen in cinema. He allows love of all sorts to emerge form a space architected for surveillance and violence. We see this in Hans and Viktor’s relationship, which transitions from the hostile to a place of brotherly love, as well as in the romantic love that Hans directs at the beautiful and young gay men who also cannot help but return to the prison time and time again. We could even say that it’s Hans’s ability to still dream of romantic love, to find fertile ground for it despite the bareness of carceral space, that keeps him alive—unlike others in his position for whom incarceration proves to be lethal. (SLANT MAGAZINE)
6. MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON (directed by Dean Fleischer Camp):
Marcel the Shell With Shoes On’s extremely cute appearance effectively allows this film to hit on some surprisingly difficult topics. Beyond making Marcel’s internet popularity a part of the actual narrative here, Marcel also explores heartbreak and the end of a relationship through Camp. The writer-director and Slate were married for several years, and in the film, Camp has moved into this Airbnb after a recent long-term relationship ended, with Marcel trying to help Camp move on. It’s kind of astounding this duo makes this a part of their story, but this heartbreak works well as a parallel to Marcel’s story of losing his family, and how they both must move past their trauma. (COLLIDER)
7. THE FABELMANS (directed by Steven Spielberg):
From the very beginning of this Spielberg movie — a scene that depicts the beginning of the movies for Spielberg — cinema is defined by the illusion of coherence that it creates between disconnected things. And people. His parents’ differences are never more explicit than in the first scene of “The Fabelmans,” which takes place outside a screening of “The Greatest Show on Earth” on a snowy New Jersey night in the winter of 1952. And not just any night in the winter of 1952, but specifically January 10 (in case you aren’t prepared for how fine a point Spielberg puts on things here). (INDIEWIRE)
8. ONE FINE MORNING (directed by Mia Hansen-Love):
Everything about Sandra’s circumstances appears commonplace on the surface but is Hansen-Løve’s interest in juxtaposition and contrast that these gain dramatic prowess. For example, Poupaud’s gentlemanly charming Clement is himself indecisive about whether to protect the status quo or follow what could be just a passionate fling. Meanwhile, Sandra remains uncertain about whether her father’s memory is completely gone given that he doesn’t remember her, but still clings to his most recent romantic partner with profound affection. When not in her torrid rendezvous with Clement, Sandra finds herself in a more somber mode, occupied with spending time with his ill father, barely responsive now, or preparing for the worst by parting with objects that gave meaning to a life, that materialize someone’s personality after they are gone or are no longer themselves, in this case, his books. (THE PLAYLIST)
9. TILL (directed by Chinonye Chukwu):
Nearly 70 years after Emmett’s tragic death, “Till” underscores the pain as well as bravery in bringing Emmett’s murderers to both national attention and trial (even as a mockery of a trial in Mississippi), particularly through Deadwyler’s dynamic and transformative performance. Most importantly, it shows how a mother’s love compelled Mamie Till Mobley to stare down hate and to demand justice and accountability for her son’s murder which sadly eludes far too many, even in 2022. (THEWRAP)
10. THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN (directed by Martin McDonagh):
In an authorial gesture similar to Colm’s refusal to give Pádraic a reason for his rejection, McDonagh refuses to come down on one side or another of the friends’ quarrel. At first, like Pádraic, we are confused and hurt by the older man’s intransigence, but as the heartbroken Pádraic continues to pursue him, trying every tactic from reasoned persuasion to scabrous insult, we start to admire Colm’s respect for his own boundaries. When his rage at his friend’s incessant pestering takes a violently self-destructive turn—for every time Pádraic addresses him in the future, he vows, he will take a pair of shears and chop off one of his own fingers—the film veers toward horror without losing either its philosophical gravitas or its earthy sense of humor. (SLATE)
