The Pretty Damn Goods of 2017
John Wick 2
Often's the time I wish the United States had something equivalent to the regal tradition of knighthood of the UK. If we did have an establishment of American knighthood, Keanu Reeves should be one of the first humans in line. He has major credits in game-changing action movies over the span of four decades. People slept on Keanu through most of the 2000s, but he never went away. In 2014, he came roaring back into the game with John Wick. It borrowed cliché moments from decades of much lesser movies to create something spectacular. Any character who uttered his name immediately conveyed the gravity and power that John Wick the legend and John Wick the man carried. He is a man not to be trifled with.
In John Wick 2, the stakes set from the beginning of the series are elevated even higher. The fight scenes and shootouts are masterpieces of action choreography, and some are outright hilarious. At over 50 years old, Keanu is out there taking licks and dishing bullets to the dome like no one in movie history. This out-of-nowhere franchise has garnered millions of fans who are relishing in its multitude of beautiful brutality, and that’s what you get with a pro like Keanu. He puts on a show that’s an absolute blast, and one you’ll happily revisit forever.
Wind River
One of the best cinematic talents drawing breath right now is Taylor Sheridan. After Sicario and Hell or High Water, it would seem that the writer of such stellar work would be bound to hit a snag sometime soon. Nay. Sheridan’s streak of rural and existential cinematic nightmares continues with the expertly crafted Wind River, his first foray into the director’s chair.
Jeremy Renner stars as a predator hunter who works for the Fish and Wildlife Service patrolling the mountains and treacherous landscapes of Wyoming. He discovers the body of a battered barefoot young woman who fled and succumbed to sub-zero temperatures deep in the Wind River Indian Reservation, well beyond where most anyone could run. Elizabeth Olsen plays the FBI agent tasked with investigating the murder, and she asks for his help in this vast land that's foreign to her. What follows is a deeply troubling commentary on the state of Native American life and treatment, as well as an affecting drama about what it takes to persevere through multiple manners of tribulation.
In Wind River, Renner gives a performance that can stand alongside any of the stoic, legendary performances in the history of American westerns. Clint Eastwood, Kirk Douglas, Gary Cooper. He’s that good. And Elisabeth Olsen is one of the most emotive and engaging actresses in the game today. Her character is out of her element, but she plays a federal agent like Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs. The haunting original music composed for the movie by Warren Ellis and the legend Nick Cave fits the mood and tone of the movie perfectly. Wind River is a thrilling and moving drama that checks off all the boxes for any fan of mysteries or thrillers.
Ozark
Netflix has a bizarre ability to keep most everyone in the dark about a new show’s existence until roughly two weeks before it premiers. Such was the case with myself and Ozark. A foolproof method to get views is to involve Jason Bateman. He has proven to be well capable of layered acting beyond his decades of comedic experience, as proven by his work in 2015’s underrated and fantastic The Gift.
Ozark is just as riveting as it is ridiculous. It obviously borrows elements from other successful anti-hero-centric shows like Breaking Bad. Chris Ryan and Andy Greenwald of The Ringer’s The Watch podcast made a good point in that regard, which is rather than seeing a Walter White-type character’s journey to becoming a criminal mastermind again, we’re dropped into a story that’s well set into motion. Ozark is the story of a man who has been putting his family at risk by laundering cartel drug money, and what happens when the shit hits fan blades that are spinning at top speed. Supported by fascinating backwoods characters and solid performances, Ozark exceeded all hopes I held out for it, and was thankfully one of Netflix’s biggest surprises of the year.
American Vandal
One thing… Actually, maybe the only thing that drives me to compose these things for the seventh year now, is that with so much to consume in the culture, it’s hard to know what to spend time watching. Last fall, I kept seeing mention of American Vandal being one of Stream TV’s best kept secrets, and for anyone who still hasn’t seen it, this is something I must pay forward.
I’ve never watched Making a Murderer, but I gather that American Vandal is largely a satire based on it and other shows of its ilk. You don’t have to have seen many true crime docs or Dateline episodes to appreciate the vast brilliance of this show. The nutshell premise is that someone in a high school in California vandalized the cars of 27 faculty members by spray-painting enormous red penises on them. The clear suspect, the hilariously moronic class clown played by Jimmy Tatro, is accused and expelled, but he swears his innocence. Two schoolmates set out to uncover the truth behind the mystery of “who drew the dicks.” On paper, it seems juvenile and absurd, but the depth into which the details of all the events leading up to the incident are delved is incredible. For something that actually happened, this investigative detail would be impressive, and the fact that this is all entirely made up is a display of talent beyond any capacity I can understand. It’s so clever and well-acted, and if you ever start it, the desire to find out who drew the dicks will be impossible to ignore.
Brawl in Cell Block 99
In 2015, a fairly unknown writer/director named S. Craig Zahler quietly made one of the best Westerns of the 2000s, Bone Tomahawk. It was also a horror tale, and it starred Kurt Russell, Richard Jenkins, Matthew Fox and Patrick Wilson. It was kind of an anomaly, in that the movie is one of the most brutal things ever committed to film, yet the dialogue is so expertly composed and tight that it seems as if it was a lost Coen brothers script.
In 2017, Zahler made this equally brutal movie starring Vince Vaughn, Brawl in Cell Block 99. In it, he is sent to prison and set with a seemingly impossible task. What follows is just shy of a literal descent into Hell itself. I went into the movie fairly blind, other than knowing who made it, who was in it, and that something probably pops off in cell block 99. Anyone who hasn’t seen it should do the same. For any fan of gritty 70s and 80s crime or horror, like the works of John Carpenter, this movie is an absolute treat. It’s probably the best work Vince Vaughn has ever done. It must be emphasized though, that like Bone Tomahawk, Brawl in Cell Block 99 is not for the squeamish, but those who find the will to see it through to the end will feel like they ran a marathon without having to get up off the couch.
Favorites of 2017
10. Baby Driver
He’s not necessarily grouped with filmmakers considered to be great modern auteurs, but over the past 15 years, Edgar Wright’s films are singular and immediately recognizable. His films from Shaun of the Dead through Scott Pilgrim to The World's End all have a specific cadence, a music to them. Ironically, his fifth feature, Baby Driver, is edited around a specifically procured soundtrack in a way we’ve never seen in non-musical cinema.
The characters are all perfectly cast. Ansel Elgort, the titular getaway driver artiste Baby, is a charming lead who’s not trying to brood beyond the reach of his capabilities into unattainable Gosling territory. Lily Collins’ bubbly presence and personality could melt the coldest heart, and the two of them have excellent chemistry. Jon Hamm, who has been weirdly underutilized post-Mad Men, does some of the best work of his career as a grade-A asshat. Jamie Foxx, who’s largely been out of the acting game in recent years, returns to play a disturbingly malevolent villain. And Kevin Spacey, well… Eh.
Filmed and set in Atlanta, Baby Driver is an instant heist classic, full of high-intensity action and perfectly balanced with clever humor and dialogue. In a nutshell, it's just a damn good time.
9. Logan
In what may well come to be known as the greatest trailer of all time, it is made quite evident what Logan will be: the swan song of the greatest character and performance in an industry that came into existence along with Hugh Jackman's first iteration of Wolverine. 2000's X-Men was arguably the first piece of a new cinematic genre, one that has since become its own industry, and Jackman's been here through all of it. Hugh Jackman played Logan for 17 years. That's a bizarre notion to wrap one's head around. And we know we're in for something entirely different this last time around with the first severed arm and the first impaled head.
In Logan, he is weathered by the generations of life he has lived and observed. We, the voyeurs, oddly wear some of that with him. The perpetually wry Logan carries little of that wit which used to be his standard. Logan is a tremendously sad and at times traumatic experience, but consistently affecting and riveting. In many ways it's unfortunate that we had to wait until Jackman's last time out to see the hard-R this character deserved. In a world where there's so much content, let alone in the comic book world, Logan shows us all that we won't ever forget what Jackman accomplished: a run that will doubtless ever be matched.
8. Lady Bird
Lady Bird is truly special. There have been tales told of high school students on the verge of leaving home or this, or that or the other for decades. Comedies, dramas, romances, you name the genre and there’s a couple hundred coming-of-age teen tales in every direction. As many of them as there are, they don’t all have heart. Lady Bird, in the words of Coach Jimmy McGinty, has miles and miles of heart.
Greta Gerwig’s script doesn’t have an ounce of fat on it. She got the Irish goddess Saoirse Ronan to play the complicated lead. She got the TV queen Laurie Metcalf to play the tough matriarch. She got Chalamet Tha God (more on him later) to pop up a few times, and Lucas Hedges (Manchester by the Sea) to tear violently at our heartstrings a time or two. Lady Bird doesn’t overshoot to try and set itself apart from the scores of movies of its ilk, but when you hire the best, you get the best. Talent produces classics, and I feel sure in the coming years that Lady Bird will prove itself to be just that.
7. Blade Runner 2049
There’s a lot that's confounding about the cult of Blade Runner. After at least half a dozen watches over the years, the GOAT status so frequently applied to it eludes me. The design, score and mood create a haunting atmosphere for 2019 Los Angeles, but the movie leaves me cold and generally empty every time. (Hot take: most Ridley Scott movies do.) Despite general apathy toward the OG, excitement wormed its way into my bones at the mention of a sequel by French-Canadian maestro Denis Villeneuve (Prisoners, Arrival) starring the god Gosling and Harrison Ford himself. And I’ll be damned if it’s not better than the first one.
Sure, the sequel has the advantage of 35 years of technological advancement in the industry, but so many more ideas regarding artificial intelligence, existentialism, love and life itself are tackled in 2049 than the first time around. Where Blade Runner skirted around the idea of whether or not Deckard was a replicant, 2049 removes any doubt in its first moments. By doing that, Villeneuve and company can tackle meatier subjects and plot points with more focused intensity, as well as showcase some of the most breathtaking set pieces in modern cinematic history. Wallace’s lair, Vegas, the seawall. The production design is unmatched in 2017. Roger Deakins’ cinematography, which by god better get him his unjustly elusive Oscar, is utterly hypnotizing. Acting-wise, it doesn't seem hyperbolic to say that this may be the best acting work of Harrison Ford’s career. In a true supporting role, he flexes acting chops at 75 that we’ve never seen in any of his previous work. It’s reassuring to see that this universally beloved man is not out there strictly cashing checks.
It’s a blessing and a curse that it wasn’t a box office smash, because while we didn’t necessarily know we needed to dive back into the world of Blade Runner, we certainly need to leave this saga at its end with the absolute masterpiece that is 2049.
6. Big Little Lies
Big Little Lies seems to epitomize much that’s to be despised about American humanity. At the center of everything are upper-class private school parents, judging each other and talking shit behind everyone else's backs. But somewhere between the Californian depiction of the facade of American perfection and fictional satire, brilliance is found.
From the first episode, it seems like it's going to be a knee slapping hilarious lampoon of this abhorrent way of excessive and superficial living, but the first time Alexander Skarsgård bolts up and grabs Nicole Kidman by the arm, it’s clear that things won't be as bright as they started. The universal praise shed upon Big Little Lies is thoroughly justified, though I must say, Nicole Kidman has stolen Reese’s awards spotlight. She’s just brilliant. Jean-Marc Vallée’s (Dallas Buyers Club, Wild) clean but sometimes abrupt directing style fits this tonally oxymoronic endeavor perfectly, and her comfort with his unique and sometimes startlingly abrasive style has resulted in a fascinating partnership.
As ridiculous and hilarious as some moments are, Big Little Lies is ultimately a riveting commentary on the power of misunderstanding, struggles to persevere in abusive relationships, and what happens in the heat of the moment when those things collide. It was a blast to watch along with seemingly everyone in the rest of the country last winter, and it will be as rich an experience to return to in the coming years.
5. Phantom Thread
For the longest time, Paul Thomas Anderson seemed like an enigma. After years of hardly taking part in mainstream interviews, he had a conversation with Marc Maron on his WTF podcast in 2015 that blew my mind. The auteur who made Boogie Nights at 26 years old, who directed Tom Cruise in Magnolia and helped manifest arguably the greatest performance we’ve ever seen in There Will Be Blood, is actually a goofball. The man who made The Master thinks Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore and Big Daddy are comedic masterpieces. The man who brought Daniel Day-Lewis back out of the dark to make Phantom Thread just seems like a regular dude. The ease with which he was so open to talk about his career with Maron went so completely against what I, and certainly other PTA superfans, had built up in my mind. He is nothing like the art he makes.
When the news was coming out that PTA was going to do another movie with DDL about a British guy in the 50s who makes dresses, it seemed like a bizarre use of both their energies. Then, leading into Phantom Thread’s release, DDL made it known that this would be his last movie. That certainly raised universal interest and enthusiasm. Maybe he’ll change his mind one day, but if that ultimately turns out to be true, Phantom Thread is one hell of a last effort for the world’s greatest living actor to go out on.
Phantom Thread is both stoically serious and confoundingly hilarious. Accompanying the movie is Radiohead mastermind Jonny Greenwood’s score, which is bananas. Vicky Krieps does wonders standing toe-to-toe with DDL throughout the entire movie, and was robbed of a well-deserved Oscar nomination. I don’t want to get into specifics of the movie beyond what anyone may or may not already know, because to do that would ruin one of the singular reactions to something I’ve had in my life. Phantom Thread aesthetically hearkens back to romances and dramas of the early 40s and 50s, though in a sense it’s a timeless endeavor. It is of a time that could only really look like that time because someone like Paul Thomas Anderson was here to make it.
4. Call Me by Your Name
There were a lot of hyped-up movies in 2017. Some of them were massive franchise pieces, many of them awards fodder. Call Me by Your Name is certainly one of the ones at the top of that list. It’s hard to be open in those experiences when hype tends to be unavoidable in the world of the Internet, but at least as far as the content of the movie goes, it’s something that still can be done. Heaped with the praise that it was, and seemingly almost a year before the average moviegoer ever got a chance to see it, Call Me by Your Name is the gem in a given year that seems to meet and exceed my personal expectations.
It’s set in northern Italy in the early 80s, as a family of academics welcomes a graduate assistant in the form of Armie Hammer to do research and stay at their summer home. I wanted to live in the setting of this movie so terribly. Lazing around reading decaying paperbacks and riding bikes through the Italian countryside never looked so alluring. The adult characters are largely insufferable, but the meat of the story lies with their son, played by Timotheé Chalamet (previously referred to as Chalamet Tha God), and Armie Hammer.
I can’t think of another time in my life when I saw someone as young as Chalamet give a performance that you could already put on the Mount Rushmore of romantic movie performances. He taps into some kind of primal, yet adult sense of sexual urge and dramatic emotion that’s seemingly unlike anything someone his age (21 at the time) could have lived. He is given the keys to a role that’s really special, and he just goes full throttle. It’s the best performance I saw in 2017, and my personal favorite. He is going to be something special. Armie Hammer’s no slouch, either. He’s one of those actors whose moment you've been waiting for to really dig into something, and this is it for him.
Call Me by Your Name is not the most comfortable watch out there, and it’s apt to take an emotional toll on you, but it is certainly one of the most rewarding cinematic experiences of last year, or any year.
3. Dunkirk (in 70mm IMAX)
It’s been a personal trend in recent years that I find modern cinematic spectacle quite boring. There’s little nuance when it comes to the extravagance of CGI and visual effects up through 2017. What’s needed is someone with a propensity for analog practicality with modern capabilities. No other filmmaker is capable of producing results in that realm than Christopher Nolan.
Now, I am quick to admit that I’ve developed a notion over the years that Christopher Nolan is kind of overrated. Inception, while a true masterwork, has some eye-rollingly awful dialogue. Interstellar is largely in the same department, though miles from being a masterpiece. And if I get started on The Dark Knight Rises, I won't stop. Even so, Nolan’s films are something to be excitable about, because they are such huge events. He’s one of the last people in the industry we may ever have with the ability and knowledge to shoot something in an overly complicated form, like 70mm IMAX, just to create the best possible experience that could come of his artistic endeavor. Having been fortunate enough to experience Dunkirk in 70mm IMAX, I can confirm that it was one unlike any I’ve had in my life. The width of the frame exceeded the limits of human peripheral vision. Vertically, it seemed as tall as a five-story building. It was completely immersive and an astounding cinematic feat. The clickity-clacks of an actual film projector were also nice to hear again.
Focusing on three, specific realms of the evacuation of the beaches of Dunkirk, you’re right alongside everything and feel like it’s your own life on the line. The characters are largely blank canvases (well, aside from Harry Styles) whose experiences you’re living as they try to survive against incredible odds. When ships list and men fight for last gasps of oxygen, it’s as if you yourself are struggling to draw breath. Hans Zimmer’s batshit musical score never stops and it makes you feel like you’re on the verge of cardiac arrest for 100 minutes. The cinematography is up there alongside any war classic in film history, and there’s a scene at the end that must elicit emotions in Brits akin to what it was like to watch James Bond’s Union Jack parachute open in The Spy Who Loved Me in 1977.
Dunkirk may be Nolan’s best film yet. It's a nice reminder that while we are relentlessly subjected to the constant onslaught of franchise content, a true pro can swoop in with a spectacle that outclasses them all.
2. Twin Peaks: The Return
I still have no idea what the hell I watched. It feels dumb just trying to formulate semi-coherent thoughts to express how incredible an experience it was to watch Twin Peaks: The Return this summer. Like much of David Lynch’s content, trying to decipher just what the hell is happening in front of you can be an infuriating task at best, but when you let go of the fact that it’s just short of impossible to do, it can be a treat unlike any art in the world. While I'm not an enormous fan of the original series, there was still plenty to admire about Twin Peaks, most of which lies exclusively with Kyle MacLachlan’s equally quirky and hilarious performance as Dale Cooper. This time MacLachlan gets triple duty, and he turned in the absolute best television work of last year.
At the risk of running away with repetitive nonsense, I just want to emphasize that Twin Peaks: The Return was so special because it is such a singular feeling to be lost in David Lynch’s world in 2017. It was a world that evoked every possible emotion one can have while watching a series unfold, from terror or shock, to warmth and bliss. It’s a pleasure to watch an ensemble of actors happily bring that world to life. It’s a world that we may never visit again. If so, The Return will stand as an extraordinary work when we look back on the history of television in the first part of this century. Hyperbolic as I tend to get, of this fact that I have no doubt. David Lynch, an artist who stands alone in modern history, but hasn’t had a prominent work since 2001, has not lost one ounce of his integrity, intensity or bizarre vision. As a matter of fact, like the red wine he so frequently consumes, they have only gotten sharper with age.
1. Shit Town
It's remarkably difficult to convey in words, without being overly cloying or sentimental, just how great a piece of art Shit Town is and the profound effect it had on me. Shit Town is a podcast that begins as a murder mystery instigated by the peculiarities of an individual named John B. McLemore. John B. has lived in Woodstock, Alabama in the same house for his entire life, and he thinks something sinister is happening there. He contacts Brian Reed at This American Life in order to bring someone down to do a story about the corruption John B. senses in the eponymous "Shit Town, Alabama." Once Brian arrives in Woodstock, it becomes clear that John B. is a character with plenty to be studied about himself. There's just something about John and his geographically uncharacteristic intelligence that makes you sense there complicated layers beyond the incident he purports to have happened that's bothering him. As it plays out, Shit Town becomes something completely different and far more interesting, focusing largely on those mysteries that lie deep within John B. himself.
I've rarely been as affected by the account of someone's life than I was listening to that of John B. McLemore. We all have experiences with a shit town, whether it's the one you in which you live, the one from which you hail, or just the idea that epitomizes all that's wrong in the world. In Brian's words, "All the world was a shit town to John, and he bore every disgrace of that world in his heart." You can let your demons overwhelm you, you can fight them or you can learn to live with them. To quote a passage in one of John's favorite works, Brokeback Mountain, "If you can't fix it, you've got to stand it." Unfortunately for so many who would've liked to have known him, John B. McLemore just couldn't stand it.
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