Best of the 2010s: 71 - 80

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Economists, psychologists, evolutionary biologists, and political pundits will all tell you that we as human animals will always act in our best interest. All behavior that shows otherwise is categorized as 'error.' Yet this understanding of human action couldn't be further from the truth. Fortunately we have art to pick up on what many 'harder' lines of study have overlooked.

The seductive destruction of being human. We feel it in our bones every time we ask, why on earth did I...? One name for this unconscious unraveling is death drive. Thanatos. "The goal of all life is death." Film is an excellent medium to explore this self-destruction as an aspect of the human unconscious. It can be frustrating to watch characters screw up again and again in such obvious ways. "Turn the lights on!" we scream at horror movies, "Don't go through that door!" The best films contextualize what seems like senseless sabotage by showing us the raggedy contradictions of the human psyche. We destroy ourselves because we have something to prove, or because we don't know who we are. We destroy ourselves to be different, or to conform. We destroy ourselves for hatred, or for love. Some of the most complex work we can do with ourselves involves exploring the incongruity between our conscious desire and that pesky unconscious drive.

80. Creed

Creed was a savvy pivot, maybe the savviest pivot of all legacy sequels not named Fury Road. Lead Michael B. Jordan and director Ryan Coogler were exactly the injection that the ailing franchise needed. The choice to invest in Jordan as the driving force of the film also lets Stallone step fully into the mentorship role, producing some of his best acting to date.

I've never enjoyed boxing, but Creed helps me understand it. Not the minutiae of the rules, or the competitive scene, but the spirit. The thrill. Although the human drama is good enough, it's not why the movie sits at #80 on this list. That honor goes to the action, a whirligig of intimate choreography. There are no cutaways as punches land. Nothing left to the imagination. Only punishing long takes, the camera bobbing and weaving as if we ourselves are party to the violence.

My Review.

79. The LEGO Movie

Put a corporate branding exercise in the hands of Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, they will somehow spin gold out of it. They achieve this with post-postmodern sensibilities: deconstructive playfulness followed by reconstructive earnestness. The LEGO Movie is a corporate product about the insidiousness of corporate product, and whether radical play can still happen within those confines. It's also a fun adventure with a lot of great sight gags and a totally unique (for the moment) animation style. The world-breaking emotional climax just adds more layers to the already stacked package.

My Review.

78. Rango

I have seen folks say that Rango is the best animated film of the decade. It's a bit too clunky and misshapen for me to agree, but it is a rare children's film that actually embraces what is clunky and misshapen about itself. Rango is a Western starring a hapless lizard and a bunch of other truly ugly creatures. It's not trying to be cute, or cool (in fact, one of the throughlines is that cool is no substitute for substance). The script concocts a gangly collection of ideas about storytelling, the hero's journey, collective oral history traditions, and municipal corruption. Maybe its status as 'children's movie' is more of a masquerade, what with all the brutality and grotesquerie. You would be hard-pressed to find a more thoughtfully animated film this decade-- the rough n' slimy textures, ingenious character design, and prolific action even give Spiderverse a run for its money.

77. The Killing of a Sacred Deer

Rooting your story in Greek myth isn't interesting in and of itself; it's uncommon for referential art to fully follow the implications of such a scaffolding. The Killing of a Sacred Deer is that uncommon movie. It refuses to coast on the window dressing of Greek myth, instead using it to generate a profoundly unnerving tension of possibility. This is a contemporary story that puts our world in contortion with ancient mythology's heightened sense of tragedy, supernatural punishment, and unknowable perversion. The result is a clammy suspense piece in which the characters helplessly regard the complete and steady eradication of their comfortable life. It's not a cheery movie, but there are plenty of dark joys to be found in the deadpan line deliveries. This is especially so in the ethereally funked up performance of the villain (?), young Barry Keoghan. Props to Keoghan for the most heinous casual usage of spaghetti imaginable.

76. One Cut of the Dead

One Cut of the Dead is a zombie movie, sort of. It's a movie about making movies, definitely. Somewhere in the nexus of those two ideas emerges a most unique film structure, an iterative story in which the film object as presented folds back on itself to reveal all the hidden narratives lurking at the margins. The formal experiment necessitates that parts of the movie are a bit boring, but fear not. Each misstep is only a setup.

75. Frank

The movie begins with a boring man writing boring songs. Then it adds spectacle: Frank, the avant garde genius who never takes off his oversized fake head. These two ingredients spiral into a speculation on spectacle itself-- what are the inner lives of the weirdos we idolize? How is genius forged? What happens to spectacle when it is exposed to the masses, and vice versa? Frank is a movie about masks, insofar as they allow us to more fully express the soft gooey stuff underneath.

My Review.

74. Moonrise Kingdom

Wes Anderson's signature style is well suited to a storybook romantic escapade about two adolescents striving to escape the social strictures that bind them. This is a tender movie, funny but always sensitive to its characters' desires and fears. The two young leads are more complex and fully realized than the all-star cast of adults, with the possible exception of a beautiful late career performance from the typically taciturn Bruce Willis.

73. Good Time

Good Time is a landmark in Robert Pattinson's decadelong quest to prove his excellence as an actor, or maybe a landmine depending on your capacity for discomfort. What a breakthrough for the Safdie bros., a directing pair who seem heckbent on putting the audience through the ringer. Their pressure cooker plots are built to collapse in slow motion on their protagonists' heads. They also have no patience for propriety, and they certainly have no chill. Good Time is a brew of depravity, anxiety, desperation, and filth, yet we still end up caring in some way or another about all the characters involved. The Safdies understand more deeply than most the self-destructive lack at the core of humanity, and the lengths that people are willing to go to chase their desires.

72. Phantom Thread

As Paul Thomas Anderson's latest work, and as the supposed sendoff to Daniel Day-Lewis's explosive career, Phantom Thread may strike you as somewhat... modest. It's an intimate period piece about a dressmaker and his burgeoning relationship with a captivating muse. No oil tycoons, cults, or batty mysteries to solve. Yet I suspect that Phantom Thread may be the richest of all upon repeat viewings. It works an unpresuming trap on us, just as the characters do for each other. We don't realize we're ensnared until the hinge snaps shut. The movie may be slow, but there is never cause for boredom thanks to the gorgeous cinematography by PTA himself. Every stroke of fabric is felt, as if the film is teaching you to perceive with a designer's eye. Beneath all that propriety, there is a kinkier project afoot...

71. The Invitation

Karyn Kusama throws her hat into the 'social horror' realm with the classic dinner party gone creepy trope. Maybe she's just better at it than most, because you will not find jump scares and grossout moments sprinkled through The Invitation. Instead, it's the strained social niceties themselves that generate an undercarriage of dread. Kusama is so observant of the microgestures of human interaction that when they are tweaked to be slightly off, alarm bells ring in our head. This is one of those slow burn horror films that leaves you not in a state of terror, but in a state of imbalance, as each new smiling face draws you closer to oblivion.