Top 10 Films of 2021 (that aren't from 2021)

All right, we are officially going to be doing two days to close 2021 today.  While we won't be bidding adieu to the year exactly (Oscar predictions are to come, and of course we'll eventually get to the 2021 OVP when Oscar gives us his nominees), but today we'll be doing my Top 10 lists of the year.  As is tradition for a blog that focuses a lot on classic movies, we're not going to start with movies from 2021's calendar year (that's tomorrow), but instead we're going to focus on movies that I saw for the first time in 2021.  As you can imagine if you've been playing along this year, our Saturdays with the Stars project (which focused principally on the filmography of Alfred Hitchcock) meant that the Master of Suspense is going to be well-represented here (I saw, for the record, 351 movies in 2021, a personal best, but Hitch was by far my most-watched director).  Weirdly, though, our series of Saturday with the Stars also resulted in a different director getting a double dip below.  I won't keep you waiting any longer-here are the (alphabetical...choosing this lot was hard enough) list of the films I saw for the first time in 2021:

The Children's Hour (1961)

dir. William Wyler

More modern than I expected, and definitely more sympathetic than I'd have guessed, The Children's Hour is a splendid achievement.  The whole cast is giving it their A-Game, though none more than Shirley MacLaine (criminally snubbed at the Oscars) for a woman who increasingly cannot tell truth from fiction.

Dead End (1937)

dir. William Wyler

Weirdly modern given its release date & studio, Dead End is a wonderful ensemble look at the day in the life of a series of jaded New York City slums, as every character faces consequences & realities that they aren't prepared for.  Best of the lot are Humphrey Bogart & Claire Trevor, the latter in just a few minutes of screen-time giving us decades of history in every urgent stare.

The Innocents (1961)

dir. Jack Clayton

Completely shocking, and genuinely terrifying (not just 1960's scary...watch this alone at your peril).  This might be the best performance I've ever seen from Deborah Kerr (leave it to Oscar to nominate her regularly for routine work & then skip when she's seismic), and the sound is of another dimension.  You won't be able to forget it.

Journey to Italy (1954)

dir. Roberto Rosellini

A deceptively simple, but persistently devastating look at a marriage on the rocks.  Sanders is perfectly cast as an insecure cynic, Bergman is mesmerizing as a woman at a crossroads, but perhaps the best part is the way that Rossellini consistently uses a war-ravaged (real world) Italy as a metaphor for their fractured union.

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

dir. Alfred Hitchcock

A genuinely compelling mystery, one that starts out as a Grand Hotel-style ensemble before giving us one of Hitchcock's funniest thrillers.  The mystery will keep you guessing, the cast never disappoints...this is perhaps Hitchcock's earliest true masterpiece.

The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944)

dir. Preston Sturges

Genuinely wonderful little charmer, with great (dare I say Oscar-worthy?) performances from Hutton, her sister Diana Lynn (a riot), and her father William Demarest.  Madcap (this is not an "on in the background" screwball), but totally worth it.

Moonrise (1948)

dir. Frank Borzage

Moodily lensed by cinematography legend John Russell, Moonrise is a bleak, gorgeously-shot film noir with a cascade of marvelous performances.  If you've always thought Ethel Barrymore was a bit too "stage-y" in her film roles, watch this-it'll make you a believer (here is the role she should've won that Oscar for).

Rope (1948)

dir. Alfred Hitchcock

Totally fascinating editing, completely gay-Dall & Granger are flawless together as killers (and probably lovers) with very different agendas.  Hitchcock rarely shied away from implied sex, and this movie has it in a ticking clock mystery where the cast is so good even Jimmy Stewart sometimes finds himself upstaged.

Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

dir. Alfred Hitchcock

One of the many undersung Hitchcock deep cuts I watched this year, Shadow of a Doubt is a nasty, delicious affair where Joseph Cotten (marvelous) ruthlessly torments & manipulates his confused niece (a never better Teresa Wright).  Everything about this movie works.

La Strada (1954)

dir. Federico Fellini

A glorious, foundational movie, one that continues to reverberate after you leave the theater, understanding the cruel ways that the film's plot doles out reality (cause ultimately that's what this movie is about, the reality of what matters and how we don't understand it until it's gone).  Masina is otherworldly as the tragic Gelsomina.

OVP: The Nights of Cabiria (1957)

Film: The Nights of Cabiria (1957)
Stars: Giuletta Masina, Francois Perier, Amedeo Nazzari, Franca Marzi
Director: Federico Fellini
Oscar History: 1 nomination/1 win (Best Foreign Language Film-Italy*)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

Sometimes I go through long stretches where I don't see a film by a true master of film, and it catches me off-guard.  I watch an enormous number of movies, but seeing a picture by someone who completely changed cinema, or had a complete identity onto himself, is a bizarre thing indeed, particularly since there's far too much sameness in mainstream pictures today.  The angles, the stories, the way that characters are so attuned to reality-it's fun to step outside of that routine and catch a picture where the characters are larger-than-life, the filmmaking provocative and you know you saw something unique.  That was my experience while viewing The Nights of Cabiria, one of the very first films to win a competitive award for Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is centered around Cabiria (Masina), a poor prostitute in Italy who is nearly killed in the opening scene by her lover (the unseen Giorgio), and then is quite defiant upon being rescued.  Cabiria is a larger-than-life figure, and her sole pride in the world is that she isn't someone living in a cave or under a bridge, but does in fact have a house of her very own, albeit an extremely small and dank one by most measures.  The film follows her as she is romanced by two different men, both of whom are more interested in themselves than in the love she is bursting to provide.  Since it's Fellini, you see a massive number of colorful characters pop up, including garishly-makeuped women and complicated religious figures, but at the center of the entire film is Cabiria herself, always ready to tackle the next mountain until she is betrayed by her husband for her money.

The picture lives and dies off of Masina, and thankfully it's in capable hands.  Cabiria is close to an impossible part to play without shooting for the rafters: as written, she's literally changing her mind about even her best friend Wanda within a scene, and can go into an expressive tirade about the woe of her life with little provocation.  But Masina finds the character's center, creating in her the same sort of perseverance that Charlie Chaplin was able to bring in his best roles, a combination of deep heart and physicality.  The movie wouldn't work without her strong sense of self, and since she succeeds, the film succeeds.

Honestly, it's hard to put into one review all of the feelings you get with a movie like this, with so many vignettes and insights into the extreme, blistering poverty of post-war Italy.  Cabiria looks rich compared to some of the people who come before her because she has a roof over her head, something that is strangely juxtaposed when an enormous family moves into her house when she sells it, realizing that these figures are happy to have what most of us wouldn't wish on our worst enemy.  The frightening final scenes, where the only man who has ever shown her kindness turns out to be a conman and Cabiria begs for death is jaw-dropping.  Here we realize how much of what she puts in front of us, the strength, is driven by survival rather than internal pride, and how cruel life has been to this kind woman, who has begged the world to stop mistreating her but it won't relent.  It's a towering moment in a film filled with such scenes, and followed by the iconic stroll she takes down the road amidst a troupe of vagabonds struggling (and then succeeding) in making her smile.  Masina finds a way to show the audience that Cabiria will continue to fight, and continue to lose, but will never give up.  It's a deeply bittersweet ending, one that reminds me in a lot of ways of The Bicycle Thief, but a staggering check on our own humanity.

There's a lot to unload here, but I'm going to leave a couple of things (like, say, the fascinating religious walk where a hoard of people beg the Madonna for forgiveness and for a reprieve from their pain), to discuss in the comments if anyone would care to join me.  The water's warm-dive in!