Callie's Top Ten Movies of 2019

2019 was a hell of a year for film. There are so, so many unbelievably superb films that were released this year from new filmmakers and older masters. It’s an embarrassment of riches, so much so that picking just ten films this year feels almost wrong. There are so many amazing films to highlight, so here are my honorable mentions (AKA top 20-11 movies of the year): 

The Irishman, Booksmart, Toy Story 4, Transit, Ad Astra, 1917, Her Smell, Hustlers, The Farewell, and Homecoming.

And I want to take a moment for one special mention:

Anima, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

It almost feels wrong not to include some sort of PTA project in a Top 10 list of mine. Animafalls well within the top ten best-things-I’ve-seen-this-year list, even if it isn’t a feature-length film. It’s basically just three music videos with a loose narrative, and I absolutely adore every single second. This short film is one of the most lovely and moving things I saw this year. PTA creates a beautiful dystopic love story in a matter of moments, told through hypnotic dance sequences and mind-blowing visuals that I’d easily put among the best I saw in film this year. Anima is a wonder and the perfect way to hold us over between Phantom Thread and whatever Anderson gives us next.

Now, let’s launch into the list!

10. Us, dir. Jordan Peele

In his sophomore film, Peele creates something just as special and unique as Get Out, and maybe even more chilling. Ushas a lot going on, between the eerie doppelgangers and the bigger themes at play and how they relate to the world in which we live. (Few lines this year have sent chills down my spine faster or more effectively than “We’re Americans.”) Seeing this in theaters on premiere night was just as exciting and fascinating as it was with Get Out. The emotional and thematic core of the film is solid, and none of the supposed “plot holes” people talk about are important in comparison to that. Us is another tense masterpiece from one of the most exciting new filmmakers in Hollywood.

9. Pain & Glory, dir. Pedro Almodóvar

Movies where directors look back on their own lives and careers can be a bit of a mixed bag. More often than not, they can come off as overly self-absorbed and selfish, which isn’t always a great look for someone (or specifically, a man, because, let’s be honest, it’s almost always a man) who already has the distinct privilege of directing and making their voice be heard. In Pain & Glory, however, Almodóvar meditates on his filmmaking legacy and the impact he may or may not have had over the years. He lays his life bare and trusts Banderas entirely with everything, his flaws as much as his better qualities. The result is a breathtakingly honest film that is as beautiful to look at and listen to as it is strangely comforting. It’s a loving, nonjudgmental look back on a fascinating life, and that makes it so, so lovely to watch.

8. Little Women, dir. Greta Gerwig

With a bold take on a beloved classic, Gerwig puts her own spin on the period piece genre with which we’re all so familiar. Little Women feel simultaneously like Alcott’s original vision and Gerwig’s own unique voice, both an old classic and a new modern point of view. With a stellar cast that is perfectly in tune with the tone of the film, this adaptation becomes a breath of fresh air with new context and subtext that we may not have seen in previous versions. I felt the plight of Jo deeply in my own heart as it loudly echoed my own experiences as a woman in 2019. Little Women gets a lot of credit from me for not only being one of the few films of the year to make me cry but also the only one to make my heart physically ache. 

7. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, dir. Marielle Heller

What can I say? Like many, I’m a total sucker for a Mister Rogers movie. This movie is like getting a nice and cheap therapy session, as Tom Hanks as Mister Rogers looks you in the eye and asks what you do with the mad that you feel or who helped you in your life. Watching Matthew Rhys’s Lloyd Vogel slowly learn how to deal with his past trauma and strong emotions in a healthy way, exudes more good vibes and self-help lessons than a lot of the Rogers-related business does, which is such a pleasant surprise in a film that was sold on the Mister Rogers aspect of it all. Even more exciting is how willing Heller is to get really weird with it, rather than playing it safe with the storytelling, which would be so easy to do with a “based on real events” movie like this one. It all culminates in a warm hug of a movie that’s unafraid to show one of our biggest cultural heroes as a fully developed person who had his faults, just like us.

6. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, dir. Quentin Tarantino

Tarantino’s latest is also his most emotional (as emotional as one of his films can get, I suppose) as he fondly takes a look back at a bygone era of film and TV and a tragedy that need never have happened. The film loves its characters and their work in a deep and delightful way that you can feel in every single frame. And yeah, all the Tarantino eccentricities are on full display: the extreme violence, the insane language and dialogue, the feet stuff (Oh, God, the feet stuff in this one…), but it’s more diplomatic in its usage of these tools (Well, except the feet), bringing them to the forefront for rare moments of explosive energy, like the big finish that imagines a different ending to a real-life tragic event. Whether or not this movie sits well with you depends a lot on what you’re bringing to it and how you’ll react to the Tarantino of it all, but a more mature Tarantino film was just what I didn't know I needed.

5. Midsommar: Director’s Cut, dir. Ari Aster

When I saw the theatrical cut of this film on its opening night at my local theater, I was equally enamored by the film and delighted by the number of very bad date nights I got to watch unfold around me as the film slowly showed its hand to the theater full of formerly happy couples. I then saw the three-hour director’s cut twice, and I wish I had had time to watch it more in theaters. Midsommar is the most cathartic experience I’ve had at the movies this year. Aster does a phenomenal job capturing the very female experience and perspective on being in a toxic relationship, full of manipulation and gaslighting. Pugh’s performance sells the script perfectly and establishes her as one of the best actors currently working. The portrayal of grief and rough breakups through over-the-top horrific means shook me to my core and left me morbidly delighted, smiling just as wide and deranged as Dani as we watched her agony burn down together. 

4. Knives Out, dir. Rian Johnson

The thing about Rian Johnson is that he just knows exactly what the hell he’s doing, and it shows in every single thing he makes. Knives Out is no exception. An original, modern take on the old Agatha Christie mystery is exactly what the doctor ordered in our pretty bleak movie landscape of remakes and big-budget comic adaptations, and Johnson just nails every single thing in this movie. I’ve seen knives Out a truly embarrassing number of times in the theater, and there’s always something new to discover in the layers of this multi-ringed donut. Maybe the best surprise of the film was the layer of political messaging that’s threaded through the story in just a subtle enough way that it doesn’t take away from anyone’s experience watching the crowd-pleasing movie. Add to that the wonderful moral that, sometimes, being a kind, hard-working person does pay in the end, even if it may not feel that way at the time, and you’ve got a real winner of a whodunnit. 

3. Marriage Story, dir. Noah Baumbach

As much as I’m a sucker for a good Adam Driver performance, my history with Noah Baumbach’s filmography has been pretty hit-or-miss, so I was a little cynical going into Marriage Story. But as soon as this film starts with its realistically romantic “What I love about Nicole/What I love about Charlie” monologues and the charming score, I was hooked. The performances rule, of course, and the script is equally as great. (Yes, including “you should be upset that I had a laugh with her”, a line that’s become a bit of a Film Twitter Joke™️ at this point.) Everything feels lived in and realistic in a really lovely way. This is especially true for the argument scenes, which feel almost as if they’re pulled straight from real life and put on the screen. Yet, even though the subject is so often dour and genuinely upsetting, there’s something still uplifting about this film. It’s reassuring that even though the choices presented in the movie are hard and turn the two leads into the worst versions of themselves, they’re still better off at the end of the film. There’s hope at the end of the tricky path these characters take, and that’s wonderfully melancholic and moving all at the same time.

2. Portrait of a Lady on Fire, dir. Céline Sciamma

Oof. What a wonderful work of art this film is. This is a completely captivating, compellingly crafted love story, full of beautiful imagery and loving examples of the female gaze. Adèle Haenel and Noémie Merlant play the doomed lovers with a sense of quiet longing that feels painfully real. The story is as poetic and epic as the ones from which it takes its inspiration, but it’s never close to inching into unbearable melodrama. For a couple of brief hours, we can escape to a world without any men, only female friendship and romance. And yes, the fantasy must end at some point, but what a gift Sciamma has given us to be able to go there at all. 

1. Parasite, dir. Bong Joon-ho

I mean, this is just an undeniable, mind-blowing piece of cinema. Parasite is something truly special and unique in a way only a Bong Joon-ho film can be. His style is inimitable, a signature unlike any other working director’s, and he gives everything he’s got to this film. The ever-widening gap between the upper and lower classes and the dissolving of the middle class in our world is something that’s weighting heavily in almost everyone’s mind, even if it’s just temporarily lingering in the background most of the time. Parasitebrings all these modern anxieties to the foreground and forces us to confront them, all while wrapping its eat-the-rich vibes in a damn entertaining, twist-filled film. Parasite is satisfying to watch, but it also refuses to provide any answers to the big questions it’s positing, instead letting you mull over the current state of things all the way home from the theater. It’s not overwhelming, though. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel of the class war that Parasite makes us face, but it’s far away and maybe impossible to reach. We have no choice but to push forward into the great, unknowable distance between us and it, hoping that we can get there someday as we fight against the current.