2018

It is almost daunting to know where to begin with Roma. Here Cuaron serves as his own director of photography (debunking any possible theory that it is Emmanuel Lubezki who is the actual genius at work), shooting is gorgeously crisp digital 65mm black and white with large (often filled with incredible setpieces) tableaus. Cuaron takes advantage of the frame like few have in the art form’s history—there is the Christmas party tableau, the shooting range sequence, the wildfire, the Corpus Christi demonstration/riot/massacre, the military training sequence, the cannonball, the beach climax—

Cuaron largely utilizes a long distance from his subjects (choice close-ups include Cleo’s smile, the scene where she is shy/ashamed/private talking to her doctor), long takes to let us soak in these characters, this life, this city, this country, this family, and pans to take in the entire canvas—he pivots and moves slowly utilizing that deep focus with busy backgrounds.

the magic hour used a few times- especially at the climactic shot at the beach– the sound of the waves are set up in the credits with the sound of the water

Sunset confirms the László Nemes’ 2015 debut Son of Soul was no fluke or happy accident experiment. It was, instead, the debut of a bold new voice for 21st century cinema— and Sunset is a remarkable companion  to Son of Soul. The Hungarian auteur takes the same dogmatic approach here in his sophomore effort: point of view subjective cinema via the central character’s (Juli Jakab here) shoulder/neck/face/back— often in shallow focus – meaning the background is often blurred. The camera is tethered to her for the entire running time. This approach, though different (and historically unique) has similarities to first person point of view cinema (like Lady in the Lake) or one-take (or long take) cinema (like Russian Ark, 1917).

Widows from Steve McQueen. The film lands outside the top 30 from 2018 on TSDT and that is  insulting to McQueen’s work- it says more about perceived artistic seriousness of the genre he was working in here (sort of the opposite of his 2013 film 12 Years a Slave– the films themselves as art are on nearly equal footing but the reaction from the critics is quite different). The sprawling ensemble is excellent, the 360-degree shot of Daniel Kaluuya performing an execution on the basketball court is a dazzler…

…and one of the shots of the year was the long take fixed camera on the car from the Chicago projects to the mansion of Colin Farrell’s character. It is style as narrative as its finest.

Another from Netflix- The Coen Brothers with The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. It is no Llewyn Davis but stronger than Hail, Caesar if we are tracking the Coen’s work this decade. It is their 17th archiveable film….unreal. An anthology film- six films in one- their longest film to date and first shot on digital.

Cold War–  possibly the composition of the year (and that is saying something in in a year with Roma)  is the Tarkovsky final frame in Nostalgia-like final shot.

another masterpiece from Pawlikowski – and he is giving a clinic on negative space photography

The Favourite- A masterpiece of auteur-driven formal and aesthetic choices (wide angle lens, natural lighting, slow-motion photography, tracking shots down the corridor) featuring 2018’s best acting and equally remarkable writing

Not surprised to read afterwards that Cries and Whispers (a visually bold, vicious tale involving three women from Bergman) and The Draughtsman’s Contract (Greenaway- symmetry, immaculate set design) were important texts to Lanthimos. The fisheye lens (ultra-wide angle) choice is absolutely masterful —it is rigorously deployed formally accentuating and denoting the crazy different-ness of this insulated toxic biosphere, beautiful to look at and tied to the story/setting—ditto for the angling work that again—is Wellesian — baroque ceiling as background mise-en-scene for just attractiveness (and my god this is a beautiful film)—but it also is an indicator for psychology, oblique and askew interplay between the characters.

Aster has clearly studied masterpiece horror works from the past. Toni Collette’s character seems inspired by (and it is an equally great performance) Ellen Burstyn’s turn in The Exorcist, the entire occult read and crowning in the end is unmistakably Rosemary’s Baby and  Milly Shapiro “Charlie” character in the orange sweatshirt is from Roeg’s Don’t Look Now  (trademark red slicker in that film but close enough).

Having said this, Aster has his own voice—and unlike the work of Polanski, Friedkin and Roeg—there is a little of Wes Anderson here in Aster’s work. He is clearly obsessed with framing and symmetry. The world of the film has a connection with the diorama (obviously that is Wes Anderson) and miniatures. It has real formal implications and connections (is this all artifice?, is it part of the greater statement of Collette’s powers? Her mother? Her family?).

Coogler is the main show here and puts his stamp on the film in many ways. Of course the nod to Oakland is a great personal touch, but there is a confidence and flair to the film behind the camera that has been sorely lacking in the MCU. He does not break the mold (a la The Dark Knight or Mad Max: Fury Road) but his handprint is on several parts of the movie (of course I wish it were more always) from the floating around the basketball game to bookend the film (tracking shots that absolutely glide and Coogler makes look so easy), to the multiple tracking shots entering the throne room…

…to the upside down tracking shot (that I could not believe was in a marvel movie) of Michael B Jordan’s Erik Killmonger takeover. This marks three remarkable collaborations in a row between Coogler and Jordan.

Barry Jenkins proved Moonlight was no fluke with Beal Street. Jenkins, just three films into his career, has a voice. Comparisons to Demme are unavoidable with the sublime use of close-ups. There is WKW in the tone, still photography and mood.  Also Douglas Sirk comparisons feel apt with Beale Street and it is not just the autumnal color scheme.

from Under the Silver Lake– the director is almost always the artist- but studio A24 seems to get that and they are supporting the most talented up and coming directors. It is getting to the point where I start to get excited for a movie just by seeing their logo

The Rock-Around-the-Clock shot/sequence tracking Kulig– magnificent—amongst the best of the decade

Stone, with this, Birdman and La La Land has officially proven herself as the actress of the 2010s- even a year before the decade ends- it is over

Ash is Purest White from Zhangke Jia. A three-pronged love story—three different time periods (like Zhangke Jia’s previous Mountains May Depart) and carried out with three different color schemes. The first section is green—great stained glass window used again and again.

Spike, 61 years old at the time of  the release of 2018’s BlackKklansman, gives us his strongest effort since 2002’s The 25th Hour. Adore the shot reverse double-dolly close-up (very near the end after John David Washington and Laura Harrier decide to break up and look out of their window to see who is knocking). Spike has a ton of wonderful reoccurring visual and stylistic trademark and flourishes (we’ll get to the “wake up” and dutch angles below) but this one is certainly his signature shot.

gorgeous shots of adoring onlookers in the crowd–cropped out faces and floating heads at the 17 minute mark—Spike bounces the speech off variations of this shot at least 5X-a  strong sequence.

Lee Chang-dong’s strongest work – Burning. A transcendent scene/moment is the long take where the camera floats up during Shin Hae-mi’s (Jeon Jong-seo) jazz-infused haunting striptease.

Alex Garland starts his promising career going two for two with Annihilation

Tarkovsky’s Stalker is at its roots. The bass-drop score at the bat$hit crazy ending with the doppelgänger is certainly compelling cinema- an ambitious finale.

Panos Cosmatos was undoubtedly influenced by rock opera Tommy and revenge films like Death Wish but this has still has the feel of a unique voice. Nods for sure to the surreal nightmare world of David Lynch. Cosmatos paces the film like an art film, designs the hell out of a set and lighting like an expressionistic film—but there are elements of horror and B-movie action, too. A huge debt from Cosmatos is owed to the late Johann Johannsson. Johannsson’s score carries parts of the film entirely and elevates and accentuates the qualities of the rest. It is amongst his best work (Arrival, Sicario)— it is a great synthesizer score- lover of Vangelis.

from Lars von Trier’s The House that Jack Built. It is an uneven work. There are chunks of the film you just want to rip out and throw in the garbage completely- dialogue-laden, preachy moments that stop the film in its tracks. Other sections feel like they belong in one of the top ten or five films of the year.

Transit from Petzold – a film that takes the entirety of its running time to archive (including the fantastic use of The Talking Heads on the closing credits with the throat-grabbing “Road to Nowhere”) – genius irony. Kafkaesque in its futility —form and repetition—the same restaurants, streets, ships, vocabulary “cleansing”, we’re talking about passports, and consulates, embassy, seedy hotels, bars, police sirens— it is form and fragmentation. Casablanca meets 1984—or Children of Men– but it is not a visual triumph which is a shame with the strength of the formal achievement some of the strong ideas. A ghost story like Phoenix– Petzold’s 2014 film.

S. Craig Zahler’s third distinctly written and violent film (Bone Tomahawk in 2015 and Brawl in Cell Block 99 in 2017)- maybe not one of the ten best working auteurs- but certainly an auteur– and I admire the level of control he seems to possess in his films. Even if he’s working in a popular genre, what he is producing is different—much better. Overall this is Zahler’s strongest visual film— even if Bone Tomahawk is still his best–  there is a yellow haze from the lighting during the big climax set piece at night—strong work.

After the disastrous The Great Wall (also known as the Matt Damon ponytail movie) in 2016, it would have been tempting to write off legendary auteur Yimou Zhang as past his prime or washed up. Shadow is certainly a return to form even if it never hits the highs of 2002’s Hero. The bamboo forest at the 49-minute mark is a standout.

Shadow is feat of grayscale color. It was shot digitally, in color, and then changed in post-production to this breathtaking monochrome (except for the faces- which takes some adjusting). It plays out like Hero meets Sin City.