by Jeremy Meckler
The films that made this list were the most provoking, both of thoughts and feelings—the films that kept me thinking and dreaming about them for days. Whatever their source, the mainstream or the obscure, these films wowed me because they did something I had never seen before. Many do this by skirting the boundaries of genre or form, truth and fiction or other kinds of knowing, but the criterion that places them on this list is their impactfulness. They crawled their way into my brain and find their way out onto this list.
The films that made this list were the most provoking, both of thoughts and feelings—the films that kept me thinking and dreaming about them for days. Whatever their source, the mainstream or the obscure, these films wowed me because they did something I had never seen before. Many do this by skirting the boundaries of genre or form, truth and fiction or other kinds of knowing, but the criterion that places them on this list is their impactfulness. They crawled their way into my brain and find their way out onto this list.
1. Post Tenebras Lux (d. Carlos Reygadas, Mexico/France/Netherlands/Germany)
Post Tenebras Lux thrusts us into an unnerving plane, eerily similar to our own. Its uncanniness is clear from its intro sequence: the dream of a little girl who runs through a muddy soccer field in the mountains, cavorting with a crowd of magical animals. Blurring the line between Magical Realism and Bolaño-inspired Visceral Realism, Reygadas paints an uneasy portrait of race, class, and humanity in Mexico. Between appearances and reappearances of the devil (a hyper-polished glowing near-cartoon demon) and a literally mind-blowing ending, Post Tenebras Lux is a bold continuation of Reygadas’s filmic excursions toward the heart of the unconscious.
Post Tenebras Lux thrusts us into an unnerving plane, eerily similar to our own. Its uncanniness is clear from its intro sequence: the dream of a little girl who runs through a muddy soccer field in the mountains, cavorting with a crowd of magical animals. Blurring the line between Magical Realism and Bolaño-inspired Visceral Realism, Reygadas paints an uneasy portrait of race, class, and humanity in Mexico. Between appearances and reappearances of the devil (a hyper-polished glowing near-cartoon demon) and a literally mind-blowing ending, Post Tenebras Lux is a bold continuation of Reygadas’s filmic excursions toward the heart of the unconscious.
2. Spring Breakers (d. Harmony Korine, USA)
How this film was produced is nearly as big a mystery as anything else about it, though contributions from seven separate production companies may offer some clue. Whatever its genesis, Spring Breakers is no ordinary teen movie. (The hundreds of teenagers who walked out of theaters may be a testament to its distance from the conventional.) Pioneering a never-before-seen aesthetic, something akin to day-glo noir, and drawing compelling performances from all of its surprising leads, Spring Breakers upends its premise, turning a drug/sex/party-fueled romp into a parodic interrogation of the male gaze. The result is a formalist masterpiece disguised as a sexploitation flick about half-naked teenyboppers.
How this film was produced is nearly as big a mystery as anything else about it, though contributions from seven separate production companies may offer some clue. Whatever its genesis, Spring Breakers is no ordinary teen movie. (The hundreds of teenagers who walked out of theaters may be a testament to its distance from the conventional.) Pioneering a never-before-seen aesthetic, something akin to day-glo noir, and drawing compelling performances from all of its surprising leads, Spring Breakers upends its premise, turning a drug/sex/party-fueled romp into a parodic interrogation of the male gaze. The result is a formalist masterpiece disguised as a sexploitation flick about half-naked teenyboppers.
3. Stories We Tell (d. Sarah Polley, Canada)
Stories We Tell is Sarah Polley’s personal exploration into the life of her late mother, Diane, an actress who died when Sarah was eleven. Polley places herself in the film, using her closeness to derive the intricacies of the relationships that existed between Diane and her cacophony of friends, in-laws, and children. It is a story of love and affection and hatred and resentment, all wrapped in an interrogation of the reliability of narrative and story. Through Diane, who only exists as a stock footage amalgamation, we see the spiderweb of people she touched and loved—and kept secrets from—and the trust we all place in the stories we tell.
Stories We Tell is Sarah Polley’s personal exploration into the life of her late mother, Diane, an actress who died when Sarah was eleven. Polley places herself in the film, using her closeness to derive the intricacies of the relationships that existed between Diane and her cacophony of friends, in-laws, and children. It is a story of love and affection and hatred and resentment, all wrapped in an interrogation of the reliability of narrative and story. Through Diane, who only exists as a stock footage amalgamation, we see the spiderweb of people she touched and loved—and kept secrets from—and the trust we all place in the stories we tell.
4. Leviathan (d. Lucien Castaing-Taylor, Verena Paravel, France/UK/USA)
Using waterproof cameras that bounce through fish tubs or follows scraps and entrails off the deck into the mouths of waiting seagulls, the macro-lens closeness of this documentary makes the experience so overwhelming that you can almost smell the fish guts that seem to cover every surface. Leviathan is a documentary inasmuch as it has no diegetic characters or story to portray outside of those that exist in reality, but it isn’t involved in the conscious transfer of facts, focused more on the poetry involved in shucking a scallop or cutting the wings off of a sting ray than it is in the statistics behind them.
Using waterproof cameras that bounce through fish tubs or follows scraps and entrails off the deck into the mouths of waiting seagulls, the macro-lens closeness of this documentary makes the experience so overwhelming that you can almost smell the fish guts that seem to cover every surface. Leviathan is a documentary inasmuch as it has no diegetic characters or story to portray outside of those that exist in reality, but it isn’t involved in the conscious transfer of facts, focused more on the poetry involved in shucking a scallop or cutting the wings off of a sting ray than it is in the statistics behind them.
5. 12 Years A Slave (d. Steve McQueen USA/UK)
McQueen’s unrelenting adaptation of the historical memoir by Solomon Northup is as emotionally impactful as they come. Harrowing and beautiful in equal parts, 12 Years a Slave is a film with a love of nature that rivals Malick and a penchant for violence that matches Tarantino’s. McQueen skips the politicking and goes straight into a brutal portrayal of the horrors of slavery, replete with whippings and lynchings, but also the oft overlooked psychological abuse and brainwashing involved in the slave-owning system. It took a British man to make it, but we may now have the quintessential film about American slavery.
McQueen’s unrelenting adaptation of the historical memoir by Solomon Northup is as emotionally impactful as they come. Harrowing and beautiful in equal parts, 12 Years a Slave is a film with a love of nature that rivals Malick and a penchant for violence that matches Tarantino’s. McQueen skips the politicking and goes straight into a brutal portrayal of the horrors of slavery, replete with whippings and lynchings, but also the oft overlooked psychological abuse and brainwashing involved in the slave-owning system. It took a British man to make it, but we may now have the quintessential film about American slavery.
6. The Act of Killing (d. Joshua Oppenheimer/Christine Cynn/Anonymous, Denmark/Norway/UK)
The Act of Killing focuses on a group of Indonesian gangsters responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands in a military coup—men who have never been punished for these mass killings. Oppenheimer gives these men the chance to tell their own stories, through personal reflection, reenactment, and bizarre symbolism (a waterfall, a giant fish, a dress). Remarkably, through this process, the central character begins to come to terms with the murders he has committed and has something of a breakdown, as the faces of those he has killed come back to haunt him. It’s hard to imagine a fuller exploration of mortality and the limits of humanity.
The Act of Killing focuses on a group of Indonesian gangsters responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands in a military coup—men who have never been punished for these mass killings. Oppenheimer gives these men the chance to tell their own stories, through personal reflection, reenactment, and bizarre symbolism (a waterfall, a giant fish, a dress). Remarkably, through this process, the central character begins to come to terms with the murders he has committed and has something of a breakdown, as the faces of those he has killed come back to haunt him. It’s hard to imagine a fuller exploration of mortality and the limits of humanity.
7. Pacific Rim (d. Guillermo del Toro, USA)
Loving Guillermo del Toro’s films is not an easy business. They have a certain charm and unique stylistic touches (halfway between Sandman comics and Hieronymus Bosch) but many lack substance, this one least of all. Yet somehow Pacific Rim's cocktail of familiar elements manages to make you forget everything else for two hours. It is so unrelenting with its nonsensical plot that it never allows an escape from film’s ridiculous world, and in doing so creates an experience of pure cinematic joy only comparable to a child watching Godzilla for the first time.
Loving Guillermo del Toro’s films is not an easy business. They have a certain charm and unique stylistic touches (halfway between Sandman comics and Hieronymus Bosch) but many lack substance, this one least of all. Yet somehow Pacific Rim's cocktail of familiar elements manages to make you forget everything else for two hours. It is so unrelenting with its nonsensical plot that it never allows an escape from film’s ridiculous world, and in doing so creates an experience of pure cinematic joy only comparable to a child watching Godzilla for the first time.
8. All Is Lost (d. J.C. Chandor, USA)
In all the hoopla surrounding the intensely disappointing Gravity, this unlikely Robert Redford star vehicle really demonstrates what can be done with someone drifting alone in a ship. With none of Gravity’s saccharine attempts at characterization—Redford’s character speaks maybe 50 words in the whole film—Chandor manages to create tension and suspense and to convey a remarkable understanding of what can go wrong floating alone in the sea. Chandor manages to inject suspense and tension into the most mundane of activities by tying them all to the survival of Redford’s nameless sailor. All is Lost is also lucky enough to have two different cinematographers, one credited as the underwater cinematographer, and the photography is consistently gorgeous.
In all the hoopla surrounding the intensely disappointing Gravity, this unlikely Robert Redford star vehicle really demonstrates what can be done with someone drifting alone in a ship. With none of Gravity’s saccharine attempts at characterization—Redford’s character speaks maybe 50 words in the whole film—Chandor manages to create tension and suspense and to convey a remarkable understanding of what can go wrong floating alone in the sea. Chandor manages to inject suspense and tension into the most mundane of activities by tying them all to the survival of Redford’s nameless sailor. All is Lost is also lucky enough to have two different cinematographers, one credited as the underwater cinematographer, and the photography is consistently gorgeous.
9. Inside Llewyn Davis (d. Joel and Ethan Coen, USA)
From a distance Inside Llewyn Davis is a film about that dreamy 1960’s New York, the city that figures in the nostalgic dreams of those who say, “it isn’t what it used to be.” But, as this film comes into focus, it’s clear that its outward appearance is only a mirage, an illusion that disappears as you approach it. It is a cynical indictment of the 60’s in New York and one of the most accurate period pieces ever made, despite its unassailably prickly main character. With the wry humor that infuses all of the Coens’ films, Llewyn Davis stands out as one of their best crafted, even if Llewyn (the character) won’t become one of their best loved.
From a distance Inside Llewyn Davis is a film about that dreamy 1960’s New York, the city that figures in the nostalgic dreams of those who say, “it isn’t what it used to be.” But, as this film comes into focus, it’s clear that its outward appearance is only a mirage, an illusion that disappears as you approach it. It is a cynical indictment of the 60’s in New York and one of the most accurate period pieces ever made, despite its unassailably prickly main character. With the wry humor that infuses all of the Coens’ films, Llewyn Davis stands out as one of their best crafted, even if Llewyn (the character) won’t become one of their best loved.
10. Paradise Trilogy (d. Ulrich Seidl, Austria)
Focusing on the lives of three Austrian women dealing with different concepts—love, faith, and hope—these three films are an uncomfortable treatise on the failings of modern society. From the lingering effects of colonialism and religious fanaticism to ideals of beauty, class, and romance, this trilogy has a nearly misanthropic focus on where we go wrong. Seidl works with a team of actors and non-actors, writing scene descriptions but no lines, so much of the films’ realist nature comes from the largely improvised performances. Their interlocking parallel structure only goes to concentrate their impact.
Focusing on the lives of three Austrian women dealing with different concepts—love, faith, and hope—these three films are an uncomfortable treatise on the failings of modern society. From the lingering effects of colonialism and religious fanaticism to ideals of beauty, class, and romance, this trilogy has a nearly misanthropic focus on where we go wrong. Seidl works with a team of actors and non-actors, writing scene descriptions but no lines, so much of the films’ realist nature comes from the largely improvised performances. Their interlocking parallel structure only goes to concentrate their impact.
HONORABLE MENTIONS:
1. Frances Ha (d. Noah Baumbach, USA)
2. Star Trek Into Darkness (d. J.J. Abrams, USA)
3. Blackfish (d. Gabriela Copperthwaite, USA)
4. Upstream Color (d. Shane Carruth, USA)
5. I Used to Be Darker (d. Matthew Porterfield, USA)
6. This is the End (d. Evan Goldberg, Seth Rogan, USA)
1. Frances Ha (d. Noah Baumbach, USA)
2. Star Trek Into Darkness (d. J.J. Abrams, USA)
3. Blackfish (d. Gabriela Copperthwaite, USA)
4. Upstream Color (d. Shane Carruth, USA)
5. I Used to Be Darker (d. Matthew Porterfield, USA)
6. This is the End (d. Evan Goldberg, Seth Rogan, USA)
TOP THREE REP SCREENINGS OF 2013
1. Possession (Andrzej Zulawski, France/West Germany, 1981 - March 26 at the Trylon microcinema)
2. Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, Russia, 1979 - October 16 at the Walker Art Center)
3. All That Heaven Allows (Douglas Sirk, USA, 1955 – January 25 at the Trylon Microcinema)
1. Possession (Andrzej Zulawski, France/West Germany, 1981 - March 26 at the Trylon microcinema)
2. Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, Russia, 1979 - October 16 at the Walker Art Center)
3. All That Heaven Allows (Douglas Sirk, USA, 1955 – January 25 at the Trylon Microcinema)
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