John's Top 10 of 2017

The Globes, Oscars, and pretty much every critic on the internet has weighed in with their Top 10 list of the year, and I figure it is time for me to do the same.  Yesterday I went through the Worst of the Year, and I can't leave you there for long, so let's dive into 2017 one last time.  I will admit up-front that this is arguably one of the least years I remember from the past ten years (the last time I only had six 5-star movies was 2006), but that doesn't mean it doesn't have some notable gems, particularly the below ten films (listed alphabetically, because why rank when I implore you to see all ten, and with more in-depth reviews linked for all of them, so go peruse):

Beach Rats (dir. Eliza Hittman)

In a year where queer cinema was hitting most of the biggest home runs, this is one that could have easily slipped past my radar.  However, with a spectacular debut from Harris Dickinson & a chilling look inside of a closet that won't open, Eliza Hittman shares an uncomfortable story that is beautifully lensed and impossible to shake.

The Big Sick (dir. Michael Showalter)

The romantic comedy is never actually dead, but it feels like it's in constant need of resuscitation.  This film did it not with a compelling leading lady, but instead two incredibly fun performances from Ray Romano & Holly Hunter as a worn married couple who are trying to cope with their daughter's ex-boyfriend being pushed into their lives.  Please give Kumail Nanijiani another movie, ASAP, but perhaps more importantly-give Romano & Hunter a TV series, as this chemistry should be bottled.

Call Me by Your Name (dir. Luca Guadagnino)

I've seen it twice, and it'll be thrice this week.  A beautiful, haunting movie that just unfolds with the confidence of a classic from its opening scenes, its central romance is forbidden, felt, and dead sexy.  Chalamet, between this and Lady Bird, is a discovery of seismic proportions.  One of those movies I know I'll be watching every year.

Coco (dir. Lee Unkrich)

It holds up on second viewing, and that's about as high of a compliment as I can give a picture I loved so fully.  Charmed with bouncy original music and a gorgeous palette of pink, tangerine, and violet, it also has plenty of heart and is proof that when they aren't churning out mindless sequels, Pixar is still the best game in town.

Dunkirk (dir. Christopher Nolan)

An anonymous, but never emotionless, look at war first-hand.  Astoundingly directed by Christopher Nolan (arguably his most ambitious task to-date), we see war on land, air, and sea in a cast of characters that share little of themselves but instead work as blank canvasses, representing in their stead the millions of men that have come before-and-since.  A triumph.

The Florida Project (dir. Sean Baker)

At once a sprawling documentary and an intimate drama, this film feels so raw and authentic you'll be forgiven for assuming that leads Bria Vinaite and Brooklynn Prince weren't just discovered in the shadow of Orlando.  Combined with a soulful, introverted turn from Willem Dafoe, The Florida Project is an honest look at poverty through the wonderful lens of a child.

God's Own Country (dir. Francis Lee)

Yes, it borrows from Brokeback, but the best films often feel possible because of what came before them.  And surely God's Own Country strikes its own path with its troubled leads, and the revelation of Josh O'Connor's Johnny discovering love, and more importantly, intimacy, for the first time in his life.

Jane (dir. Brett Morgen)

Special effects are fine and all, but perhaps nothing was more shocking this year onscreen than the magic of Brett Morgen's time machine documentary, which takes Dr. Jane Goodall back decades with a gold-hued camera as we discover her love of chimpanzees first-hand.  Few documentaries have been so jaw-dropping, and so devoted to their subject.

Lady Bird (dir. Greta Gerwig)

Actors-turned-directors' first efforts can occasionally feel like a waste of time, indulgent affairs for people whose editors are afraid of pissing off the movie star.  Thankfully Greta Gerwig had no such issues, creating a semi-autobiographical look at the world of mothers-and-daughters, grounded by great work from Saoirse Ronan & Laurie Metcalf.

Personal Shopper (dir. Olivier Assayas)

Part grief drama, part ghost story, all fascinating.  Olivier Assayas's devotion to actresses, and finding the small mountains that his lead characters can experience in the oddest of times, is on full-display as Stewart's Maureen deals with the death of her brother, and possibly his hanging-on as she attempts to move on in every capacity of her life.