The Best Films of 2015

Caren Pistorius in Slow West

There’s a tendency among people who watch a lot of films to boost ones that stand out rather than ones that are good. This can lead to some perverse choices in the “best of” lists that proliferate at this time of year. So that probably explains the rogue nature of the list below – ha ha. If you’re expecting to find Spectre (not at all bad) or the latest Marvel movie or Jurassic World, look elsewhere. These are just the films, of the maybe 350 films or so that I’ve watched in the past 12 months, that jumped out and grabbed me. Some of them are 2014 releases.

Ten Best

Paddington (dir: Paul King)

Operating in Mary Poppins territory, this adaptation of Michael Bond’s books is charming, funny and clever, has jokes for kids and some more thoughtful though never intrusive observations for adults, integrates the animated bear from darkest Peru with the live action brilliantly and there’s even an action-star gag by support-playing baddie Nicole Kidman that’s aimed at ex-husband Tom Cruise.

Wild (dir: Jean-Marc Vallée)

The redemptive drama is a hard sell, but this one about a broken woman’s long trek to self-realisation works in every way. Reese Witherspoon is believably frail as the wee girl dwarfed by her huge rucksack (metaphor), director Jean-Marc Vallée uses music perfectly and does something many directors have forgotten all about – he structures his film visually, using the editing suite to full advantage. His compositional work is remarkable.

Ex Machina (dir: Alex Garland)

Just as we are realising that technology’s grip is icy, and Google might not be our friend, along comes Alex Garland’s directorial debut, a dystopian slab of hard sci-fi in which geeky Domhnall Gleeson falls for robot Alicia Vikander while hipster tech uberlord Oscar Isaac looks on. A three-hander – give or take – getting perfect performances from all concerned, and it glistens like a tiny, beautifully cut gem.

Kajaki (dir: Paul Katis)

A gaggle of British squaddies with names like Tug, Spud and Smudge wander into a minefield and suddenly their casually homophobic banter is replaced by focused professionalism and a sharp interest in staying alive. Gruesomely tense, horrific in its depiction of the damage inflicted by IEDs, is this the best British war film since Ice Cold in Alex? It’s a great war film by any standards.

It Follows (dir: David Robert Mitchell)

Sexual intercourse as an engine of death isn’t new in horror films, but It Follows finds a simple and brilliant new way of telling the story all over again – zombies who are “slow but not dumb” and might appear any time, any place, anywhere, dressed in nightwear or perhaps not very much at all. A lurchingly subjective camera, expressionistic framing and Disasterpeace’s Wendy Carlos-alike score help rack up the intensity even further.

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (dir: Ana Lily Amirpour)

The Muslim jilbab as a kind of vampire’s cape – what a brilliantly observed idea that is in one of the strangest horror films of recent times, which combines something of the mass-observation aesthetic of photographer Sebastião Salgado with the disjointed cool of early Jim Jarmusch. Shot entirely in California, yet clearly a film about and for Iran, it’s a fascinating, Middle Eastern take on the Let the Right One In “innocent vampire” genre.

Slow West (dir: John Maclean)

Michael Fassbender’s astonishing run continues with this out-of-nowhere debut by John Maclean, an exquisitely wrought western making clear its debt to old pulp novels and their love of hard-tack glamour and salty danger. Tense as hell, in fact the whole film is one long, slow build towards a great finale. And it looks the business too.

Aferim! (dir: Radu Jude)

There hasn’t been a great Romanian film for about ten minutes, but here’s a slightly different sort than what we’re used to – a historical picaresque following an 1830s cop and his son as they seek to capture a Gypsy and return him to his owner, a rich boyar whose wife has been too free with her favours. Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon inspires some of the look and pace of it, and Don Quixote is clearly also a reference, though Cervantes didn’t finish on as gruesomely gripping a high as this does.

Theeb (dir: Naji Abu Nowar)

It takes a while for it to sink in, but what we have in Theeb – as we follow the exploits of the youngest son of a Bedouin tribe in the Laurence of Arabia-era desert – is a story straight out of Rider Haggard territory. It’s the sort of ripping adventure that once upon a time emboldened Spielberg and Lucas to make Indiana Jones but is done without a cocked eyebrow here, with genuine danger, tough decisions, cruel fate and a bit of socio-economic background (the collapse of the Ottoman Empire) all adding spice.

Mommy (dir: Xavier Dolan)

With Tom at the Farm it became clear that Xavier Dolan was something of a genius. Mommy is further proof, a tough drama about the stumbling relationship of a flaky mother (Anne Dorval), her aggressive, firecracker ADHD teenage son (Antoine-Olivier Pilon) and their nervous neighbour (Suzanne Clément). It wears its emotions out there on a selfie stick – “fuck off” in this film often means “I love you” – and there are at least two scenes so powerful you might have to remind yourself to breathe.

Honourable Mentions

Victoria Almeida in What's Left of Us
Victoria Almeida drives the boys crazy in What’s Left of Us


Appropriate Behaviour (dir: Desiree Akhavan)

The life and times of a second generation Iranian, or of a confused bisexual, or of a girl in the big city, or of a struggling 20something – Desiree Akhavan gets it all just right in this through-the-fingers New York comedy.

Maps to the Stars (dir: David Cronenberg)

Still Alice won her the acting accolades, but Julianne Moore is actually better in this return to nightmarishness for David Cronenberg, as a fading star and member of a family for whom the term fucked really doesn’t cover it. The Player meets Sunset Boulevard.

Life After Beth (dir: Jeff Baena)

Aubrey Plaza gives it her absolute all as a newly dead zombie trying to have a relationship with old boyfriend Dane DeHaan – who finds her a whole lot more into him than she used to be – in a genuinely inventive comedy made all the better by the presence of John C Reilly and Molly Shannon as Plaza’s concerned parents. Dead funny.

The Tribe (dir: Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy)

Shot entirely in Lithuanian sign language, acted by first-timers and set in a school for the deaf where a new boy finds that the descriptor “sex and violence” barely covers what’s going on, this film sounds like a stunt – and it obviously is to some extent – but it’s a stunt that works. And the lack of dialogue is no bar to understanding when emotion this direct and action this unambiguous is concerned.

 The Babadook (dir: Jennifer Kent)

There’s a touch of The Innocents in this highly atmospheric Aussie horror about a mother driven to desperation by her needy child. Or is it the child we need to feel worried for? Sure, it goes slack in the middle, and becomes over-focused on telling us that writer/director Jennifer Kent has seen a whole load of old horror movies, but wait for the finale – barking, scary and brilliant.

The Book of Life (dir: Jorge R Gutierrez)

A Mexican flavoured animation with a Day of the Dead theme and a plot with a distinct Orpheus and Eurydice flavour – she’s dead and he goes after her into the underworld (ish). The visuals are spaghetti western meets Ren and Stimpy, the songs are jaunty and mariachi-flavoured and the voicework (Ice Cube in particular) is exemplary.

Pictures of the Old World (dir: Dusan Hanák)

“The best Slovak film ever made”, the reputation of Dusan Hanák’s disarmingly simple documentary from the early 1970s – about the dirt poor lives of ancient peasants up in the back of beyond – is entirely deserved. “I’m going to die this year, I can feel it,” says one old timer. And that’s what it’s about – quite starkly. Death.

Two Night Stand (dir: Max Nichols)

Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Pink Panther, It Happened One Night and The Dick Van Dyke Show are all in the mix in this subversive comedy about a girl (Analeigh Tipton) who has hook-up sex with a stranger (Miles Teller) and then gets stuck in his apartment. Old-school screwball romance follows, charmingly, smartly and at speed.

Predestination (dir: Michael and Peter Spierig)

Robert Heinlein’s sci-fi story All You Zombies provides the backbone for the Spierig brothers’ follow-up to the similarly idea-crammed Daybreakers, a “guy walks into a bar” tale of a hermaphrodite (Sarah Snook) who walks into Ethan Hawke’s bar and tells him a story about time travel and the paradoxes that erupt from it. Refreshingly hard sci-fi.

Frequencies aka OXV: The Manual (dir: Darren Paul Fisher)

Strip away the romance and what is human courtship about? Status, clearly, according to this lo-fi, highly fascinating film about “what happens when a high frequency meets a low frequency” – hot, smart girl meets average guy, in other words. It’s patchily acted and a bit speechy towards the end, but there are enough ideas in this bizarre film for about 12 Hollywood blockbusters.

 Turned towards the Sun (dir: Greg Olliver)

A simple and revelatory documentary about 90-something poet and Second World War hero Micky Burn, a long-form visual version of a Daily Telegraph obituary whose power lies in the richness of Burn’s Zelig-like life. He was – just one for-instance – the guy in the secret radio room at Colditz.

What’s Left of Us aka El Desierto (dir: Christoph Behl)

A simple but powerful Argentinian zombie movie about a girl, a boy and another boy all locked up together in a house while the world goes to hell in a handcart outside. And inside, it turns out, once sexual dynamics and the fallout of a fetid love triangle start to exert themselves. Victoria Almeida is a powerful and provocative lead, the sexy counterweight to the hothouse atmosphere of death.

Tusk (dir: Kevin Smith)

Kevin Smith reminds us how good he can be with a film about a guy (Justin Long) being turned into a walrus by a demented surgeon (Michael Parks) while his much-cheated-on girlfriend (Genesis Rodriguez) searches for him. A simple film, it somehow manages to be funny and appallingly gruesome at the same time.

Face of an Angel (dir: Michael Winterbottom)

Michael Winterbottom’s drama takes the bones of the Meredith Kercher/Amanda Knox case and constructs a brilliant meditation on the modus operandi of the media, as well as a modern-day Dante and Beatrice tale in which film-maker Daniel Brühl is smitten by virginal Cara Delevingne, as anyone watching probably will be too.

While We’re Young (dir: Noah Baumbach)

Not-as-young-as-they-once-were couple Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts try to keep up with hipsters Adam Horovitz and Amanda Seyfried in a very Jewish New York comedy – smart, dry, a touch bitter – about the importance of being not just true to yourself, but of doing this absolutely and totally properly.

 White God aka Fehér Isten (dir: Kornél Mudruczó)

Kicking off with a quote by Rilke, this unique Hungarian film is like a Disney animal flick about the adventures of a mongrel, except done as existential sci-fi – what exactly would happen if dogs had the same degree of consciousness that humans have?

The Salvation (dir: Kristian Levring)

Director Kristian Levring used to be a Dogme man, but shouts “I’m so over all that now” with this remarkable western that’s like a fusion of Sergio Leone, John Ford, Sam Peckinpah and Robert Aldrich, with a perfectly cast Mads Mikkelsen as a Clint Eastwood-alike quester after vengeance. If looks could kill…

Run All Night (dir: Jaume Collet-Serra)

Another of Liam Neeson’s geri-actioners, though this time he’s back with director Jaume Collet-Serra for a deliberately retro dash for the finish in which strong, silent Neeson takes on the good guys, the bad guys and eventually the whole of New York. Hugely overwrought, entirely satisfying, it’s genre done properly.

Still the Water aka Tutatsume no mado (dir: Naomi Kawase)

If Douglas Sirk had been Japanese he might have come up with this overheated love story about teenage lovers hedging towards full penetrative sex as the waves crash, storms rage and their families conspire against them. Leisurely, beautiful, lusty and lovely, an unusual mix of the entirely natural and the gigantically metaphorical.

Phoenix (dir: Christian Petzold)

The latest of a string of dark, intelligent films that director Christian Petzold and actor Nina Hoss have made together is a revenge drama set in the aftermath of the Second World War where Hoss, just released from a death camp, is recruited by her own husband to play his dead wife – he doesn’t recognise her, obviously – and she plays along. Oh deary deary me.

 Marshland aka La Isla Mínima (dir: Alberto Rodriguez)

Stunningly good-looking policier about an ageing Franco-supporting cop and his younger more democratic sidekick investigating a murder out in the photogenic Guadalquivir marshes in 1980. Brilliantly acted and shot, with locations and music to match, it even does a car chase in an entirely new way. Did I mention how good it looks?

Little Accidents (dir: Sara Colangelo)

Old school 1970s-style humane ensemble drama with a standout Boyd Holbrook as a survivor of a terrible mining disaster whose testimony about the event at an upcoming hearing is going to decide the futures of a whole lot of people in town. An ambling drawl of a movie, with Elizabeth Banks and Jacob Lofland almost as good as Holbrook, surely a star of 2016.

 Turbo Kid (dir: François Simard, Anouk Whissell, Yoan-Karl Whissell)

Utterly on-the-nail pastiche of 1980s straight-to-VHS movie-making, a post-apocalyptic Total Recall meets Mad Max story of a BMX-riding kid, called Kid, gaining special powers, falling for a special girl (a special Laurence Leboeuf) and saving the world. Funny and gory, with in-jokes for nerds, and a fabulous John Carpenter-like soundtrack by Le Matos.

Mad Max: Fury Road (dir: George Miller)

Pedal-to-the-metal furious punk-funk madness, with a barely speaking Tom Hardy as Max, the road warrior on the road with badass Charlize Theron (the film’s real star) while director George Miller obsessively choreographs the relentless chase/action mayhem around them.

Tomorrowland (dir: Brad Bird)

Whatever happened to the futurism of jet packs and flying cars? Brad Bird answers the question with jaw-dropping visuals in a modern-day Wizard of Oz quest-adventure coolly received by critics with ass/elbow disassociation disorder.

Cop Car (dir: Jon Watts)

Another of those great Kevin Bacon movies he comes up with every few years, with our guy as a really bad cop on the trail of a couple of kids who have nicked his car, unaware there’s something in the boot they really don’t want to be discovering. A high-concept B movie of real distinction, lean, simple and with smart, believable dialogue, especially for the kids.

Palio (dir: Cosima Spender)

A remarkable documentary about the Palio, a horse race run in Siena, Italy, twice a year, which takes such pains to introduce us to its characters – chiefly, the young buck hoping to steal the grizzled champion’s crown – that when the race kicks off, you’re really in the medieval square with the riders.

 Minions (dir: Kyle Balda, Pierre Coffin)

After the boring Despicable Me 2, who’d have thought that a spin-off – the backstory of Gru’s little yellow helpers – would have worked this well. Brilliantly animated and written, it’s a breathless, idea-packed, funny, inventive animated comedy.

I Believe in Miracles (dir: Jonny Owen)

Even if you have no interest in the 1970s, or British football, or managerial legend Brian Clough, this documentary about his astonishing success and idiosyncratic style will have you hooked. “The most charismatic man I ever met,” says one former player, part of the team of underdogs he willed to European Cup success, twice.

And if you want to watch or buy any of the films, this Amazon link will allow you to do just that – enjoy!

I am an Amazon affiliate

© Steve Morrissey 2015

20 April 2015-04-20

Amy Adams as the Big Eyes artist Margaret Keane


Out in the UK This Week



Annie (Sony, cert PG)

The “Black Annie” this has been called. With the button-cute Beast of the Southern Wild’s Quvenzhané Wallis in the lead as Annie and Jamie Foxx in the Daddy Warbucks role and with Jada Pinkett and Will Smith producing, you could call it that, if these things matter to you. If they don’t, what you get is perhaps the epitome of the “turn that frown upside down” musical, carefully updated – Annie is no longer an orphan but a foster kid, Foxx is a cell phone billionaire, a couple of new songs have been added to the familiar ones (Hard Knock Life, Tomorrow, I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here), and a light glaze of hip hop has been applied throughout. The story remains the same – can the little parentless girl with a big heart find someone to look after her? In spite of all the good things in it, Annie has picked up a number of negative reviews, though they’re often from the same people who thought Chicago was a finely sung, expertly danced affair, when in fact it looked and sounded like a panic at an abattoir. This is a much better film and musical than the 1982 version, though things do admittedly go badly deeply wrong in the big chase finish. But until then the songs have entertained, its singers have been in good voice (some tweaked with autotune), the performances – Cameron Diaz’s mad, badly directed turn apart – have been right on the money, and there have been two carefully orchestrated emotional moments when director Will Gluck has demanded stinging eyes and a lump in the throat and got them. From me, anyway. This Annie, panned in advance of viewing in many quarters, I suspect, will have a second coming.

Annie – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Frequencies (Signatures, cert 15)

Frequencies’ early scenes take place at a bizarre school for geniuses where the unspoken rules of social status have been turned into written test results so no one makes any mistakes and cosies up to someone inappropriate, at the school or in later life. And yet somehow the very high frequency Marie-Curie Fortune and the negatively endowed Isaac Newton Midgeley do indeed swing into each other’s orbits, which sets off a desire in him to have her – in any way he can. The result is romance of the Notting Hill sort – him blundering dunce, her unattainable hottie – done as low budget sci-fi with the odd acting wobble, Daniel Fraser playing the engaging adult Isaac, while Eleanor Wyld as the grown-up Marie-Curie is the sort of blonde frosty-knickered lovely who has men chewing their knuckles. We’ll be seeing a lot more of them, as well as writer/director Darren Paul Fisher, who has not only come up with a good idea but also knows how to flesh it out with believable supernerd dialogue. It’s the Big Bang Theory without the jokes, with a squirt of Misfits hormones, if you like. The whole thing is packed with Big Ideas (free will and determinism, language as a viral meme, the source of creativity) and yet is entirely accessible, though towards the end Fisher throws in a Secret Service subplot that smacks of kitchensink-itis.

Frequencies – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Dumb and Dumber To (Universal, cert 15)

Sneaked onto DVD with barely any fanfare, the proper sequel to 1995’s Dumb and Dumber pretty much carries on where Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels left off – being astonishingly stupid and generating lowbrow laughs, in a loose road movie comedy vaguely about finding a kidney for Harry (Daniels). Because the leads are very good at it, this is a surprisingly funny film. What’s more, the Farrelly brothers have drafted in the Hot Tub Time Machine writers Sean Anders and John Morris to supplement work done by them and frequent collaborators Bennett Yellin and Mike Cerrone. In the process a little button marked “genuine bad taste humour” has been flicked back to the on position – so jokes about intruding on parents’ grief at the death of a child, how to react when you realise your daughter has started menstruating, old ladies’ vaginas, Aids (hey, remember the 1990s?). But most breathtaking is the treatment they dish out to Kathleen Turner – kicking off with Lloyd and Harry mistaking her for a man and going pretty much down the “my oh my what happened to your looks” route from there. She gives it back, in spades. And is, in fact, the film’s standout, the funniest thing in it.

Dumb and Dumber To – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies (Warner, cert 12)

Though he can never be forgiven for turning a thin book into three dialysis-necessitating instalments of sword-and-sorcery, beard-and-balderdash, Peter Jackson’s last tranche of hobbitry is actually a surprisingly nimble affair, especially considering that it is, as the title suggests, little more than a big battle. I’m going to say no more about it than the following, which apply to a greater or lesser extent to all of Jackson’s runic oeuvre, since by now you’re either down with all the “Bolg, spawn of Azog the Defiler” stuff or you’re not. Here goes: very nice to see Christopher Lee as a sprightly ninja wizard this time out, thanks to the magic of CG; Billy Connolly’s arrival as a dwarfish clan leader finally injects a few seconds of humanity and humour into what has been too often a constipated journey; Cate Blanchett, Evangeline Lilly and all the female roles should simply be cut out (tweedy Oxford don Tolkien didn’t know what to do with women either); Jackson’s faith in CG is misplaced and his films are already looking as ropey in places as 1949’s Samson and Delilah, when Victor Mature wrestled a stuffed lion; the fantasy thing is over – we now want science, not magic (see Gravity, Interstellar and any number of low-budget, idea-rich sci-fis, including the above Frequencies, for proof); that helicopter shot of the high New Zealand mountains, with their sparkling air, that’s over too. Next!

The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies – Watch it/buy it at Amazon



Exodus: Gods and Kings (Fox, cert 12)

Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood spent so much time and effort explicitly NOT referencing Errol Flynn’s The Adventures of Robin Hood that in the end the trumpeting of the elephant in the room drowned out everything else. Exodus: Gods and Kings – about Moses leading the Jews out of Egypt – repeats the mistake. Starting with an unwieldy title designed to distract, it then proceeds down a path that prefers rational explanation to divine intervention as it tells the story of the emancipation of the Chosen People – avoiding comparison with Cecil B DeMille’s The Ten Commandments like the… er… plague. Thus the parting of the Red Sea is shown as a tidal phenomenon, the manifestations of frogs, locusts and what have you are similarly waved away as eco-system malfunctions rather than god’s hand at work. As for Moses (played by an unremarkable, only semi-gruff Christian Bale), well he’s the leader of a rebel army, Moshe Dyan (or some other warrior leader of modern Israel) in biblical garb, while Joel Edgerton’s Pharaoh is essentially the callous CEO of Egypt Inc (“From an economic standpoint alone…” he prefaces one reply to a request to set the Jews free). Though not many modern male execs wear eyeliner, I grant you, at least in public. Ridley Scott knows what he isn’t doing – DeMille – but that isn’t exactly a plan. So he defaults, as he does in these situations, back to advertising-man mode. This means that individual elements of Exodus are well done – the plagues are nicely handled, with animal carcases piling up everywhere. But Scott repeatedly relies on long, directorly crane shots taken at a grandiloquent “you don’t get this on TV” pace (note to Scott: you do), which Alberto Iglesias’s score echoes with a sub-Wagnerian trembling that strikes into epic mode when it can get hold of anything. But generally, like Scott, Iglesias is just flapping about, vamping. Apart from its representation of God as a small kid, a rare good idea in a screenplay thrown together with a casual regard for grammar, this is a lousy, boring film that makes 40 years in the wilderness seem entirely understandable.

Exodus: Gods and Kings – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Big Eyes (EV, cert 12)

Amy Adams plays the artist Margaret Keane, Christoph Waltz the husband who claimed her “big eyed” paintings were his in Tim Burton’s muted, pretty biog which sees him returning to the 1950s Tupperware moodboard which gave him his biggest artistic success – Edward Scissorhands. What to say about Big Eyes? Adams doesn’t really know what to do with Keane – whether to play her as an utter dimbo or as a woman under extreme psychological duress. Did Margaret go along with the deception because that way she became rich (ie she was a hero of sorts), or did Mr Keane browbeat her to such an extent, using his undoubted gift of the gab, that she just acquiesced (ie a victim)? Waltz, for his part, seems to be mainlining one of Disney’s Wolf characters – all eyebrows and drool. A half-hearted feminist screed is the result either way. More poignantly, here’s a story about an artist being denied ownership of her work, presented by Tim Burton, an auteur now in bed with the Weinsteins, the “fixers” of films with a golden touch for the middlebrow. That’s a much more painful and much more gripping life-mirrors-art story right there.

Big Eyes – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Field Punishment No 1 (Odyssey, cert 15)

Field punishment No 1 is being tied to a forward-leaning pole on tippy toes and being left out there in the weather all day – and if it’s snowing out there, then… It’s the treatment meted out to Archibald Baxter, one of the Kiwi conscientious objectors that this clearly made-for-TV film focuses on. The time is the first World War and the place is the front line in France, where conscripts from all over the British Empire have been shipped, whether they want to fight or not. Peter Burger’s film works hard to dispel any notion that the conchies in question are cowards or sissies – Baxter is portrayed as a man’s man as robust of mouth and strong of arm as any other. The war he’s attempting not to fight is the senseless-waste-of-human-life version familiar from most films about the First World War, and the guys he’s standing alongside are the recognisable “lions led by donkeys”. Vaguely English Patient in structure – privation recalled from a hospital bed – it’s a well acted film (Fraser Brown is a stoic, Buddha-like Baxter, Byron Coll impressive as the gobbie, socialist version of the refusnik objector) and full of little details that hit home (the way the fighting men’s faces are covered in sores). Though this true story is slightly marred by the slightly hagiographic tone.

Field Punishment No. 1 – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




© Steve Morrissey 2015