Top 25 of 2015 (from #20 till #16)

20. Irrational Man

A Woody Allen movie is always somewhat of an intellectual movie. It will come as no surprise that most of his fanbase is comprised out of lefties and philosophy or literature majors. Irrational Man is exactly the kind of movie that is directed towards them. Joaquin Phoenix plays Abe Lucas, a professor in philosophy who suffers from an existential crisis. When he comes across Jill Pollard (Emma Stone), an enthusiastic student of him, it appears he gradually finds joy again. But it is something of a completely other nature that makes him overcome his crisis. Something that, at the same time, will test his new relationship with Jill. The characters and dialogue are frivolous in the typical, intellectualist Allen-way. The atmosphere and humor are dark while maintaining a constant, almost unbearable cheerfulness. It is because of this frivolity and cheerfulness Irrational Man never is a full-on intellectual movie. Just like Allen's older work the film reflects on problems and worries which are all quite "First World", meaning they are inherent to people who have the time and energy to think about life and 'the big questions'. Most of Allen's movies are directed towards First Worlders and the sorrows that afflict them. This film is primarily focused on the philosophical concept l'ennui, or boredom. It has been a major concern of many 19th and 20th century philosophers and Allen now tries to look for a (rather cynical) way to get out of this existential void. Intellectualist? Yes, but not in a metaphysical, essayistic or highly theoretical way. Ennuyeux? Absolutely not.

19. Reality

Charlie Kaufman, look out, you're getting competition. After several 'certified weird' movies, Quentin "Mr. Oizo" Dupieux (Rubber, Wrong, Wrong Cops) finally made a movie that wasn't just aimed at a hipster audience. Reality may be full of self-referring puns and props, people who haven't seen his previous works won't be confused by them or even notice them. It still is a highly ironic movie, but at the same time Dupieux seems to explore the unique style of meta-master Kaufman. In Reality director Jason Tantra is looking to fund his film 'Waves'. The producer he contacted is completely convinced of his ridiculous story (about televisions that literally kill people), but wants Jason to look for the perfect scream before he signs off on the project. While the director is trying to nail this perfect scream, he discovers his movie is actually already made (by Dupieux himself maybe?). Logic is nowhere to be found in Reality, especially because Dupieux puts another, Lynchian layer to the story; a layer about another director who makes a movie (for the same producer) about a girl who finds a videotape in a wild boar. Reality is somewhat of a weird curiosity and because of that it'll eventually become cult. Dupieux is very aware of that fact though, which make his movies always kinda conceited. However, in a way his ironic, hipster vibe is an authentic snapshot of today's zeitgeist. It raises the question of how far a film can go in grasping itself through its own medium without becoming trivial or redundant. Dupieux, just like Kaufman, really is expanding today's cinematic frontiers. Next step: seeing ourselves watching ourselves at the end of a movie, as an unexpected plot twist!

18. Taxi

Low budget and subversive filmmaking have acquired a new dimension. Taxi is Panahi's third film made while being banned from directing, but its silent protest sounds louder than ever. Panahi casts himself as a taxi driver, roaming the streets of Teheran and picking up passengers (played by anonymous actors). Although the film is staged and thus fictional, the themes, conversations and secrecy are very real. Iran's censorship is provoking Panahi to keep on making films without really attacking Iranian society itself. He merely shows it, including its defaults. Strong, transgressive criticism can still flourish in societies that smother freedom of speech. It's much harder to make "dangerous" movies in so-called free societies. Taxi is a reminder of this fragile condition most Western societies are in, especially today. Freedom of speech is being questioned by the same people that use it to spread hatred and racism. We all claim to be Charlies, but in the end we can't cope with real diversity of opinion since ours is always better and more true than that of others. In that way Jafar Panahi also defies our own conception of freedom of speech, especially through all of the dialogue we hear from the passengers he picks up with his taxi. His movie is the embodiment of true freedom of speech, which we all applaud. But his movie equally shows the frustration that opposing opinions trigger in people: you can't hurt or kill them for it, but it feels so gratifying when a powerful authority thinks and speaks the same way we do (frequently forgetting these authorities are often the reason why we think the way we do). When these powerful authorities take measures to marginalize, ridicule or silence other opinions, we believe this to be proof of our own superiority. It can be through bans or censorship, like in Iran. But it can manifest itself more subtle: through ignoring or trivializing certain voices and communities. This can be done by knowingly or blindly discriminating others because of their views, or by trying to provoke illegal actions by not considering or taking into account other people's opinions (and thereby discrediting them), like in the West. In a way, Panahi's situation has the benefit of being more clear. We, in the West, can only point to vague or intuitive feelings of repression, 'cause public opinion really believes we have total freedom of speech. Is it even possible for us to make a subversive movie like Taxi? And, moreover, should we be glad and reassured if the answer is 'no'?

17. Sicario

I expected a serious American film about the drug war at the border of Mexico and the United States for a long time now (it has already been 15 years since Traffic), but I didn't expect it to come from Denis Villeneuve (my more evident, rather biased guesses were Iñárritu or Cuarón). It proved to be the right man for the job. Incendies showed his affinity with ethico-political complex situations, Prisoners demonstrated his ability to create nail-biting suspense and Enemy revealed his craftsmanship concerning visual style. Sicario is a synthesis of all those merits. It is one of the most brutal, morally complex, visually stylistic and adrenaline packed movies of last year. Above all, it confronts us with a situation that's been going on for decades, where extremely violent cartels, corruption on both sides of the border and endless smuggling of drugs and migrants create unbearable living conditions for millions of people throughout Mexico. The official death toll of the drug war is estimated above 120.000, not including several thousands who have gone missing. Juárez, the city depicted in this movie, is one of the most dangerous places in the world because of its constant violence. People get killed every day in that city, which makes it an actual war zone. Sicario, a Spanish term for 'hitman', shines a light on this ferocious reality through the eyes of an American FBI agent. We see her principles and values deteriorate in the gruesome context of the drug war. This is a necessary film, although its sheer brutality and hopelessness might scare off some people. For those who want to know more about the subject, see the documentaries Narco Cultura or Cartel Land. Want to see a Mexican point of view? I'd recommend Sin nombre, La jaula de oro and Heli. Just don't expect to find a more comforting picture in those films...

16. Theeb

It remains to be seen if Theeb will get the attention it truly deserves. A lot will depend on the winning of an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, but its competition is fierce, especially from festival favorites Son of Saul and Mustang. My support goes out to Theeb though, because I'm just not feeling the universal acclaim for Son of Saul, nor do I buy into the inauthentic celebration of liberated femininity in Mustang. Theeb on the other hand, presents us with a story of survival and adventure against the backdrop of World War I in Hejaz, seen from the eyes of a young Bedouin boy. Its imagery is stunningly beautiful and the poetic use of Arabic language casts a cinematic spell on its viewers. The word 'theeb' means 'wolf' and at the same time it is the name of the boy - an allegoric way of telling us people sometimes have to become wolves to survive, especially in harsh conditions. When Theeb's older brother is requested to guide a British officer to a well across the pilgrims' trail in the Wadi Rum, the young one follows him into the desert, unknowing this will be the start of a ruthless struggle for survival. This film can best be described as a coming-of-age story or as a western, both not in a traditional way. On top of that, the execution is exceptionally enchanting. So while Naji Aby Nowar grew up and partly studied in Britain, this movie nonetheless empowers Arabic filmmaking by showing it has more to offer than most people would expect.

Next up: films 15 to 11!