The ten most entertaining films of 2015 were addressed in my previous post. Now it's time to see what 2015 had to offer in another area: movies that, at least to some degree, left the realm of pleasing and entertaining and tried to add or subtract something. Again, this doesn't mean these films are better or superior to the ones in the top 10. They only are commercially more risky (or not commercial at all), narratively more contested or simply more difficult to watch or grasp. They require affinity to the subject or style and sometimes even an acquired taste.
A justified remark was made on my distinction between entertaining and other-than-entertaining movies: isn't it inherently elitist to make a distinction at all? And, in doing so, am I not neglecting craftsmanship and technique in these entertaining movies? I thought about this and don't think the distinction is elitist, provided that the connotation you give to 'entertainment' is not negative. 'Entertainment' is just a way to describe movies whose main purpose is to entertain and are commercially rather safe. I use it in a descriptive, not derogative way.
It may still sound like I'm devaluing craftsmanship and technique by equating it to entertainment and thereby not acknowledging the audiovisual merits. Aren't movies like Star Wars: The Force Awakens and Mad Max: Fury Road really, really well-made and don't they deserve to be in the same overview as so-called arty or intellectual movies? The short answer is yes. Nevertheless I stand by my distinction because my angle of incidence is different. I separate entertaining movies from movies that aren't (only) invested in entertaining. By doing so, I recognize the audiovisual qualities implicitly - I just
don't make a distinction between movies that are visually
striking and well-crafted, and those which are not.
Like all distinctions, this one also suffers from arbitrariness. That's okay though, it just serves as a framework that tries to offer another perspective on evaluating cinema. This perspective isn't primarily focused on objectivity (like craftsmanship and technique), but rather on subjectivity. Subjectivity isn't necessarily blind to cinematographic merit, it just recognizes that other considerations can play an equally or even more important role in evaluating a movie. It is more intuitive and less rational. Moreover, objectivity can create a blind spot for movies that entertain, provoke, challenge or inspire without being particularly well-made according to the contemporary standards of what is considered to be "a good film". Objectivity doesn't usually take perception into account.
While the whole distinction may be a bit intellectualist in itself, I admit, it is motivated by evaluating movies more intuitively. It is not trying to devalue entertaining movies into guilty pleasures and in the meantime neglecting their cinematographic qualities. It is trying to uplift those entertaining movies to the same level as so-called arty or intellectual movies, without being blind to the fact that movies still are mostly about entertainment and thus other-than-entertaining movies aren't suited for everyone. Hence, two different lists. One directed towards everyone who's able to watch movies, including movie buffs. Another one directed towards those who, like I said in my previous post, are value seekers, think mainstream entertainment is boring or want to resist marketing's dictatorship on cinema. Just like there's nothing wrong with entertainment, there's also nothing wrong with wanting something else.
Like all distinctions, this one also suffers from arbitrariness. That's okay though, it just serves as a framework that tries to offer another perspective on evaluating cinema. This perspective isn't primarily focused on objectivity (like craftsmanship and technique), but rather on subjectivity. Subjectivity isn't necessarily blind to cinematographic merit, it just recognizes that other considerations can play an equally or even more important role in evaluating a movie. It is more intuitive and less rational. Moreover, objectivity can create a blind spot for movies that entertain, provoke, challenge or inspire without being particularly well-made according to the contemporary standards of what is considered to be "a good film". Objectivity doesn't usually take perception into account.
While the whole distinction may be a bit intellectualist in itself, I admit, it is motivated by evaluating movies more intuitively. It is not trying to devalue entertaining movies into guilty pleasures and in the meantime neglecting their cinematographic qualities. It is trying to uplift those entertaining movies to the same level as so-called arty or intellectual movies, without being blind to the fact that movies still are mostly about entertainment and thus other-than-entertaining movies aren't suited for everyone. Hence, two different lists. One directed towards everyone who's able to watch movies, including movie buffs. Another one directed towards those who, like I said in my previous post, are value seekers, think mainstream entertainment is boring or want to resist marketing's dictatorship on cinema. Just like there's nothing wrong with entertainment, there's also nothing wrong with wanting something else.
The top 25 I'm starting now is focused on films that (at least partly) subvert entertainment. This can be done in many ways: films that need more focus or attention to watch, films that experiment with style or narrative and confront us with things we aren't used to, films that evoke certain feelings or thoughts we not felt or thought of before, films that try to transform entertainment itself, etc. Let's start with the first five.
Just like his previous movies, Gaspar Noé (Irréversible, Enter the Void) divided audiences all over the world. Noé is one of those French directors who can be blamed for elitism, arrogance and egocentricity which many people - not entirely unjustified - associate with the typical French art film. Along with compatriots and contemporaries Leos Carax, Alain Guiraudie, Denis Dercourt, Bertrand Bonello, Christophe Honoré and more recently Yann Gonzalez, Gaspar Noé keeps this tradition alive (which quite possibly is one of the reasons why the derogative concept "arty farty" came into being) and in doing so he presents us some very polarizing cinema every few years. Love is his latest achievement, and just like Guiraudie's L'inconnu du lac or Kechiche's La vie d'Adèle, it defies our understanding of the (fine) line between cinema and pornography. The explicit sex scenes in the film aren't simulated or choreographed which can induce feelings of shame, awkwardness and unease in its viewers, especially if you're viewing it in a public theater. Although the main intention, according to Noé, was to make a love story where there's real, emotional sex, the movie succeeds mostly in provoking its audience, not in moving or grasping them on a deeply emotional level. There will always be exceptions of course; its warm colors, poetic dialogue and sensual cinematography can evoke strong emotional feelings. For me it didn't, although it did make a rather lasting and deep impression.
24. Macondo
Like all social realist cinema, Macondo focuses on contemporary problems, more specifically migration and refugees. It's a recurring and quite popular theme in many European movies these days, see for example Dheepan, Atlantic, Mediterranea, Babai, Brak, Problemski Hotel and Simshar. None of them are as powerful as Macondo though. Situated in the Macondo refugee settlement in Vienna, Ramasan, an 11-year-old Chechnyan boy, lives with his mother and two younger sisters. His father is absent and tradition dictates he, being the only man in the household, is responsible for his family. When Isa, an old comrade of his father, shows up, Ramasan feels the urge to protect his family from this intruder. Throughout the whole movie you can feel Sudabeh Mortezai, the director, has really lived this situation. This authenticity makes up for an almost unfelt depth in social realist cinema. Furthermore, the child actor playing Ramasan is incredibly convincing. He makes the psyche of a young boy taking responsibilities one cannot live up to at that age, both touching and confronting. His resistance to accepting the help of Isa, who's sincerely worried and only means well, reveals a psychological irrationality that's inherent to both Ramasan's age and the macho culture he's used to. A film that deserves more attention, especially from those who love Britain's new wave of social realist directors like Shane Meadows, Andrea Arnold and Clio Barnard or the Belgian Dardenne's.
Everybody who's into rock music knows that drummers often get teased with endless jokes about them being dumb, untalented or not real musicians. Maybe it's time for some empowerment through cinema, 'cause after Whiplash, drumming won't be looked down upon anymore. The next time you go to a concert and the drum solo kicks in, you won't be compelled to take a bathroom break or go to the bar to get some drinks. You will stand in awe of the agility, vigor and rhythm the drummer has. Whiplash isn't just a movie about drumming though. It's a movie about irrational ambition, willpower and unprecedented discipline. You think talent is what makes you good at something? Think again. Talent is only part of it. You have to practice constantly, fail, try again, fail harder and do better. Working trumps being talented; nothing comes "just" naturally. At the same time the aspiration to excel in something can take dangerous forms. Whiplash shines in at the dynamic between Fletcher, a ruthless teacher (J.K. Simmons' performance is scary as hell), and Andrew, his ambitious disciple who wants to be one the best drummers in the world. While Fletcher is praised by many, his methods have more in common with military bullying than responsible education. According to him, this authoritarian method brings out the best in his students. Andrew's descent into obsession proves it doesn't. A lesson he learned the hard way.
22. Charlie's Country
Just like everywhere in the world, indigenous people are repressed and looked down upon as being curiosities and remnants of the past. At best they're the subject of anthropological studies which, certainly in the beginning of the 20th century, romanticize and even idolize them. In Australia these indigenous people are Aboriginals. Charlie's Country reflects upon Charlie, an Aboriginal man who lives in the Northern Territory (where almost one in three people is of Aboriginal heritage) and battles against the advancing westernization of his culture and territory. The many laws that prohibit his movements and habits make him leave his community and embark on an adventure to find his roots. But finding your roots while being accustomed to a certain degree of comfort, is a hard thing to do. Charlie's Country confronts us with the impact of so-called progress on people and communities many consider to be backward and uncivilized. While this story itself is nothing new, the visceral performance of protagonist David Gulpilil and Rolf de Heer's tender and respectful rendition of Aborginal life makes it stand out. The film never tries to romanticize a certain way of life. It questions the primitivism some people look up to as being "more true" to ourselves as human beings, but at the same time it questions the imperial tendencies of so-called Enlightened values. Just like many movies that aren't B/Hollywood-sexy or haven't gotten critical acclaim throughout the world, Charlie's Country got quite neglected. Don't give in to this silence. Watch it.
My anticipation for this movie was just plain unrealistic. After La grande bellezza, which is one of my favorite films of the past ten years, there was no way Paolo Sorrentino could top that. Nevertheless, my anticipation stayed and - like expected - Youth didn't outdo La grande bellezza. This doesn't mean it wasn't a good movie. On the contrary, it definitely was one of last year's finest. Just like his previous installment, Sorrentino made a rather cynical movie. There is no joy to be found in getting older, even when you're an acclaimed director or composer and have tons of money. The world is just an endless succession of grief, disappointment and melancholy; the only way to cope is to become cynical and inert. It reveals an inconvenient truth of contemporary, mostly Western society: in our search for knowledge, careers and money, we lost our will to give meaning to life. Youth contemplates this cynical way of living, but at the same time shows it isn't devoid of feelings or emotion - although they manifest themselves mostly through regret and nostalgic sentiment. While the message to be found here is almost the opposite of my own vision on life, the aesthetical way of giving form to this cynicism is so beautiful and immersive that you almost feel enticed to accept it. Just like in La grande bellezza, Sorrentino uses the sound and light design to its full extent. And while the English of Michael Caine never sounds as poetic as the Italian of Toni Servillo, the dialogue writing is equally captivating. Sorrentino is making cynicism lyrical and he's doing it like no one has ever done before.
Next up: films 20 to 16!
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