Awarding the best films of 2021

This ongoing survey begins shortly after the Oscar winners were announced, and I have surprisingly few quibbles with the results, as will become clear when I finally get to my own Best of the Year list at the end of this post.
 
Belfast (MC-75, dvd) was nominated for seven Oscars, and won one, for Branagh’s original screenplay, which seems about right to me, despite his obvious debt to John Boorman’s Hope and Glory and Alfonso Cuaron’s Roma.  Heartfelt and witty dialogue in brogue, well-delivered by an appealing cast, is certainly the film’s strength.  The direction by Kenneth Braggart (as I think of him) is needlessly show-off-y, when it should have been simple and self-effacing, in keeping with his black & white vision of Belfast’s Troubles in the years when he was growing up there.  (Since I happened to watch this on a library dvd, I saw his alternative ending, which would have been disastrous, with his ego-stroking postscript of returning to Belfast as the grown-up Buddy.)  The music track by Van Morrison is a big plus, as are all the principle players, especially the youngster Jude Hill, with Caitriona Balfe and Jamie Dornan as his parents, Judy Dench and Ciaran Hinds as his grandparents.  The storytelling is a bit scattershot, but the sense of authentic memory is quite strong.  That includes the nine-year old Belfast Protestant seeing the conflicts around him through the imaginative lens of American movie Westerns.  (I’m currently reading Fintan O’Toole’s outstanding We Don’t Know Ourselves: A Personal History of Modern Ireland, and he has a whole chapter on the Irish embrace of American Westerns.)
 
Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car is my probable #1 film of the year, but he had another new release that will figure in my list, Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy (MC-86, CC), a triptych of 40-minute dialogue-heavy vignettes.  Few filmmakers can make so much out of two people talking – from the far edges of the frame, face to face, facing the same direction, or straight to the camera.  Whatever the posture of the actors, viewers are on the edge of their seats, following the conversation and wondering where it will turn next, marveling at the revelation of character, the twists and turns of connection.  Not since Eric Rohmer has there been such penetrating dialogue about attraction and desire, such analytic eroticism of language.  Personality and circumstance, truth and lies, silences and illusions, all circle around this triangle of separate stories.  Hamaguchi is certainly a young filmmaker to watch, a man with a commitment to explore the hearts and minds of contemporary Japanese women (and the occasional man). 
 
Mentioned on few lists, but certainly among the most powerful films of the year was Mass (MC-81, Hulu).  Written and directed by Fran Kranz in minimalist style but with maximum effect, it gathers four people in the sterile meeting room of a church to mediate severe grievances.  The trailer gives away the premise, so I won’t spoil too much by saying that the teen son of one couple has murdered the teen son of the other.  The writing and acting are profound and truthful.  Martha Plimpton and Jason Isaacs as one couple, Ann Dowd and Reed Birney the other, all articulate their pain in various wrenching ways, in coming to a well-earned resolution that seems hopeful yet plausible, sad but not saccharine.  If absolution is too much to ask for, mutual understanding may lead to a way forward from an inexplicable and excruciating event.  I hung on every word and glance, admiring the painful truth of the personal and moral revelations.
 
Another first-time writer-director, Megan Park, tackles the issue of school shootings from the surviving students’ perspective in The Fallout (MC-84, HBO).  This film is much better than a typical Afterschool Special, but somewhat less gripping to me than Mass, possibly because I can relate better to parents than “these kids today,” with their social media and texting, drug and sex choices.  The film is blessed by Jenna Ortega as the central character – a 16-year-old turned upside down by incomprehensible tragedy – and the supporting cast is sound.  This story could have gone wrong in so many ways that I admire its sure-footedness, grim in implication but not humorless in execution, though its depth and impact are not as exhilarating and revelatory as the films of Eliza Hittman, for example.  Still, a promising debut for the teen-actress-turned-filmmaker.
 
Romanian film remains an unusual hotspot of world cinema, and so Radu Jude’s Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn (MC-74, Hulu) earned best of the year listing from a number of reliable critics.  The porn that’s in it is censored visually but loudly audible.  It’s a homemade video by a school teacher, which gets uploaded to the internet and puts her job at risk.  The first section of the film after the porn clip just shows her walking through Bucharest and running errands before her encounter with the outraged parents of her students.  Nonetheless its wandering camera offers a documentary portrait of a Covid-era city balanced precariously between the moribund Soviet East and the anything-goes capitalist West.  The second section provides an illustrated glossary of keywords for Romanian history and culture.  The third part pictures the confrontation between teacher and parents, for another cross-section of the society, which is fractious and demented in a manner that will not be unfamiliar to Americans.  Is the film a joke or a howl of rage?  It’s up to you to decide.
 
[I will continue to add comments here, as I track down other best-reviewed films of 2021, and fill in my own lists of the best films of the past year.  To see my provisional Top Ten and other lists, click on the “Read more” link.]

The year in TV so far

Here we begin an open-ended assessment of a select group of television shows from the first part of 2022:
 
Two of the best could both be characterized as retellings of the “island of misfit toys” – each has an unusual cast, an out-of-the-way locale, and a distinctly different perspective.  You don’t have to be on the autism spectrum to appreciate As We See It (MC-82, AMZ), but it sure doesn’t hurt.  The premise – three twentysomethings with differing manifestations of autism share an apartment, with a full-time aide to help them negotiate the neurotypical world – comes from an Israeli tv series, but show creator Jason Katims makes it his own, with a very personal twist, since he has a son in a similar condition.  And he was careful to get actors who were themselves on the spectrum, for another layer of authenticity.  One is a nerd genius with no filter, one is a stress-eating agoraphobe, and the third is a girl who just wants to have fun – and be “normal.”  Susie Bacon plays the aide, and once you realize her one degree of separation from Kevin, you won’t be able to overlook the similarity.  Katims is a veteran tv producer, notably for Friday Night Lights, and has put together an amusing and affecting ensemble piece, whose appeal was certainly not exhausted in its initial eight episodes of 30+ minutes each.
 
Somebody Somewhere (MC-86. HBO) follows a group of oddballs and outcasts in rural Kansas.  It’s based on the life of comedian and singer Bridget Everett as the character Sam, who has returned to “the other Manhattan” – where she’d been a swimming and choir star in high school – in order to care for a dying sister.  Overweight, slovenly, and depressed, she’s stuck again with town and family.  Until she meets an old high school acquaintance (Jeff Hiller), who leads her into a web of quirky friends, centered on an unusual church choir.  An authentic mix of comedy and drama in an unlikely setting, this first season of seven half-hour episodes reminded me of Reservation Dogs as a sympathetic and funny look at “flyover country,” and certainly deserves further seasons, having nailed the first with a perfect ending.
 
The documentary Lucy and Desi (MC-73, AMZ), directed by Amy Poehler, makes a nice complement to Being the Ricardos.  With a rich archive to draw from – film and tv clips, still montages, also personal audio tapes – talking heads are minimized, and the story moves right along in a brisk ninety minutes.  There seems to be a trend of “you go, girl” documentaries about showbiz women reclaiming their power and stepping out of limiting roles.  This one follows the separate careers of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz up till their meeting, and through the explosive success of I Love Lucy, and into the pressures of running Desilu Studios.  No surprises here, but a pleasant reminiscence of a significant passage and personage of popular culture in the early-TV era, with the story filled in before and after.
 
The Tourist (MC-81, HBO) is an Aussie import with a fair resemblance to Breaking Bad, for its characteristic mix of crime and comedy, plus repeated desert showdowns, with a touch of Memento thrown in.  I made it through half of the six episodes, before concluding that the series was more invested in “surprise” twists than in genuine character development, so I bailed.  Which I would never do on the next two series –
 
Now that I’m used to the binge-ready release of full tv seasons, it can be frustrating to wait a week between episodes, but in the case of two final seasons now in progress, that just deliciously prolongs two of my favorites.  My Brilliant Friend (MC-96, HBO) and Better Things (MC-94, Hulu) still have weeks to run before I offer my final encomium on each series as a whole, but I couldn’t post something about the best tv of the year so far without mentioning them.  [Update: same goes for new season of Atlanta (MC-91).]
 
In contrast, the six quick episodes of the second season of Starstruck (MC-76, HBO) add up to a single evening’s viewing.  It’s a show I really enjoy, but can’t unequivocally recommend, unless you’re hungry for a contemporary rom-com that falls halfway between Notting Hill and Fleabag.  Creator and star Rose Matafeo is a half-Samoan New Zealander living in London and having an on-again, off-again affair with an action movie star played by Nikesh Patel.  She and her show are smart and energetic, troublesome but endearing, and part of a movement of semi-autobiographical shows foregrounding female comedians, and redressing the gender imbalance of the genre.    This is a very worthy example, if not quite the pick of the litter.
 

I take brief note of some other still-in-progress HBO series that have attracted my notice, if not yet my unqualified endorsement.   In the early running, I’m pleasantly surprised by Julia (MC-75); after Meryl Streep I couldn’t see the need for anyone else to play Julia Child, but Sarah Lancashire (Happy Valley) makes the role her own, two Frasier alums enhance the cast, and the behind-the-scenes look at WGBH in the early Sixties, all make for a worthwhile watch that gets more involving episode by episode.  I took a look at Minx (MC-77), thinking it might be a sort of mash-up of GLOW and The Deuce, as a feminist retrospect on issues of sex work, in this case a magazine competing with Playgirl in the Seventies; so far I’ve made it through six half-hour episodes (out of an eventual ten) and found enough humor and twists in the story to keep going.  I’m less sold on Winning Time: The Rise of the Laker Dynasty (MC-68), but may make it to the end, based on the rather amazing cast, even though it’s weak on the basketball itself and a bit of a mishmash.  

 
[Update through end of April]  I found the series finale of My Brilliant Friend a bit of a comedown, but overall the third season kept me enthralled.  On the other hand, Pamela Adlon nailed the wrap-up of her outstanding fifth and final season of Better Things, which goes to its reward – entry into my pantheon of all-time favorites.  Atlanta remains bold and innovative, but not really geared to my interests, so my admiration is distant.   Julia has been a real surprise, becoming more enthralling week by week.  Minx faltered for me a bit at the very end; I certainly didn’t mind the time I spent on the first season, but I do not look forward to a second.   I continued watching Winning Time, almost perversely, for the combination of accomplished acting and the askance look at some very familiar personalities, but the style and focus of the series did not really appeal to me.
 
An Apple product came with three free months of AppleTV+, so I’m catching up with some of their newer shows:  I thoroughly recommend Pachinko (MC-87), a sweeping family epic about the lives of Koreans as an underclass in Japan, beautifully shot and performed with excellence throughout.  It has melodrama and spectacle to match its intimate portraits of a range of characters, centered on the woman whose life we follow from young daughter to wife and lover to grandmother, in a span from the 1920s to 1989.  Time and personae are kaleidoscopic, flashing forward and back, following one character or another, shifting among three languages (subtitled in three colors).  This eight-episode series, based on a bestselling novel by Korean-American Min Jin Lee, is a broad and busy canvas, an immersive encounter with an unknown world.  I urge you to take a look.   
 
Severance (MC-83) was probably Apple’s most celebrated recent release.  Enigmatic and moody, to be sure, but this sci-fi thriller about office life in a modern megacorporation is just too slow.  I watched three episodes, than jumped ahead to the ninth and last, glad to have saved at least three hours of my life.
 
I gave the Apple anthology series Roar (MC-57) a chance based on the track record of showrunners Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch (GLOW, Nurse Jackie) and an impressive lead in each of the eight episodes, from Nicole Kidman to Cynthia Erivo to Merritt Wever, not to mention GLOW alums Alison Brie and Betty Gilpin.  A mixed bag, obviously, but not one I felt compelled to get to the bottom of.
 
As for documentary series, Apple offers Lincoln’s Dilemma (MC-80), which I heartily endorse, both as history and visual artifact.  It was fun to see the faces of so many historians whose books I have read (mostly old white guys) as well as other perspectives (mostly men and women of color), and the graphics are excellent, both period illustrations and the similarly-tinted animations, which take the place of unconvincing reenactments.  A judicious examination of the politics of slavery and emancipation, it's as relevant now as ever.  Having studied the politics of abolition for decades, I did not detect a false note, except some slipperiness in the chronology.  Pairs nicely with HBO’s recent Frederick Douglass documentary.
 
I’m going to be away from my usual tv watching for the next month, so I’ll defer comment on two promising new series that have just started on HBO, until after their completion.  I was very glad to see Gentleman Jack (MC-81) return for another season, and thrilled to see David Simon and George Pelecanos return to the Baltimorean terrain of all-time great The Wire with We Own This City (MC-84).  By the time I get around to them, I’ll also be writing about the much-anticipated conclusion of Better Call Saul (MC-94) and the second season of Russian Doll (MC-79).  (For the latter, I’ll have to re-subscribe to Netflix for a month, having caused their stock to crash by suspending my subscription, after I’d been sending them money every month for more than twenty years.)