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 July 2015-07-20

Anne Dorval and Antoine-Olivier Pilon in Mommy


Out This Week



Mommy (Metrodome, cert 15)

In bad drama people say just what they think; in real life they rarely do. Xavier Dolan, usually referred to as a wunderkind, understands this, and in this grungy new drama he pushes that realisation to the max with a story about Steve, a disruptive ADHD kid and his flaky mother. It’s an urgently brilliant film, that never dips into the well of mawkishness reserved for “social issue” films. And that’s even with an extra “issue” added – the next door neighbour, a former teacher whose nerves are shot to shit, who becomes the friend of this dysfunctional duo. The performances are gritty, the dialogue shocking (“I’m not being racist – he is a nigger,” says Steve in a typical outburst against a cab driver), and Dolan sets up a couple of scenes that are so intense I actually had to remind myself to breathe. In a small but brilliant cast, it’s probably wrong to single out Suzanne Clément for her amazing turn as the shell-shocked, stuttering, fragile neighbour Kyla – a counterpoint to the angry, agitated Steve that’s tender and obviously manipulative, though it never feels that way. You might also take issue with the attention-seeking way Dolan changes the aspect ratio of the picture from square to widescreen, to reflect Steve’s advance towards inner equilibrium and “normal life”. But, again, you might not. Either way, this is unmissable.

Mommy – Buy it/watch it at Amazon



The Spongebob Movie: Sponge Out of Water (Paramount, cert U)

Wow. It’s taken 11 years for the Spongebob guys to make a sequel to his last film. It was a success, so I’ve no idea why so long. However, it’s worth the wait – there are about ten good jokes in the first five minutes alone, while live-action-element Antonio Banderas’s story about a pirate seeking a game-changing talisman is set up, before we shift to life below the waves. There, the simply animated Spongebob and his crew riff on the “there is no I in TEAM” mantras of the McJob culture in a story about the secret formula of the Krabby Patty – fast food so addictive even those at death’s door clamour to eat it. Spongebob works because it mainlines a vein abandoned by the other big players – the Looney Tunes world where shtick and the surreal rub shoulders, and pungent social comment is dispensed with a wink and a “hey”. Disney should make films like this, but can’t, being in hock to the notion that the global megacorp can only be a force for good – they simply couldn’t come up with a greed-personified character like Mr Krabs, it would ruin the merch roll-out in fast food chains. Disney probably wouldn’t go for Spongebob’s appalling, glass-etching laugh either.

The Spongebob Movie: Sponge Out of Water – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Face of an Angel (Soda, cert 15)

It sounds like all sorts of wrong, but Michael Winterbottom’s take on the Meredith Kercher/Amanda Fox case actually turns out to be really worth watching. That’s largely because he abandons any afternoon-movie melodramatics about who did what to whom and instead explores the meta-level about whether we can ever know what happened. To do this he sets up two loosely interconnecting stories. In one Daniel Brühl plays a director with a string of flops to his name, hoping that a dramatisation of this case can give him the hit he so badly needs. In the other there’s Kate Beckinsale as a door-stepping journalist who uses charm and animal cunning to get her story. Over this, sweetly, Winterbottom starts playing out a Dante and Beatrice story, with Brühl’s director cast as a kind of latterday warrior-poet, student-waitress Cara Delevingne as the floaty virginal creature he is smitten by – you might well be too, her performances is one of remarkable gangly unaffectedness. If the meta-ness, the narrative layers, and the enquiry after truth, or how the search for it distorts it, reminds most strongly of Winterbottom’s Tristram Shandy adaptation, A Cock and Bull Story, there are also obvious echoes of Charlie Kaufmann’s “struggling to write the film” movie Adaptation too, and some visual reminders of Roeg’s Italian film Don’t Look Now – reality and truth again a concern there. So what about poor 21-year-old Meredith Kercher, who died in Perugia in 2007 and whose life has been reduced to a footnote in Foxy Knoxy’s? In a coda Winterbottom deals with that too, as if to say that airy philosophising is all very well, but let’s spare a moment for someone to whom something tangible and horrible did happen. It’s a very humane, beautiful and tender way to wrap things up in an altogether intensely accomplished drama.

Face of an Angel – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Housebound (Metrodome, cert 18)

Good films are coming out of New Zealand right now, though they often seem to be comedic takes on established genres. What We Do in the Shadows took on the vampire movie, and quite a lot of the Twilight/Underworld appurtenances that have been strapped to it. Housebound does the same for the haunted house movie, yet somehow manages to be both funny and chilling. Morgana O’Reilly plays Kylie, a feisty young woman who, falling foul of the law, is ordered to wear an ankle tag and spend eight months cooped up in the house of her mother. This is particularly handy for us, because her mother is played by Rima Te Wiata, a brilliant comedy actress who can inflect a whole sentence with new meaning by a final raise of the eyebrow or a rapid-pan swivel of the eyes. The film is essentially a back and forth between mother and daughter as they move through the house trying to work out where various knocks and bangs are coming from, mindful of the fact that the house used to be some kind of juvenile institution. I did mention that the house was large and rambling? The film is a bit too, but it moves at pace and it’s funny. It also has an early Peter Jackson (of Braindead era) approach to splatter, an inventive way with household appliances used as weapons and it has that bald Kiwi matter of factness – “You can’t punch ectoplasm”, Kylie is told at one point, as if she had been trying to use an SDS drill bit in a standard chuck. Entirely enjoyable.

Housebound – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




The Tale of Princess Kaguya (StudioCanal, cert U)

Isao Takahata is the other guy from Studio Ghibli, the one who isn’t Hayao Miyazaki, Takahata being the one who directed Grave of the Fireflies and Pom Poko – so no slouch. Like Miyazaki, he seems fascinated with the wisdom of children, and in this story about a princess born magically out of a piece of bamboo, and then exploited for social advancement by her adoptive peasant parents, we’re in fairly familiar territory. It’s a beautifully realised world, a pre-industrial, sylvan idyll. There are thematic analogues of Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, of a feisty child finding its way in a strange world. Of style, too, Takahata keeping it Ghibli-familiar with a rustic watercolour palette and technique, with there generally being one thing in each tableau that Takahata wants our eye drawn to – a leaf, a rivulet, a shock of hair. After a while, once Kaguya has grown up at lightning speed and been educated to princess level thanks to the heaps of money she can magically produce, the story transitions into something like a Scheherazade tale of a beautiful young woman trying to keep suitors at bay by using her wits, while her parents conspire to get her married into nobility and pronto. She, meanwhile, starts to long for the simple folk she grew up with. I know Princess Kaguya has had a lot of great reviews, but to be honest this Ghibli fan thought that while it was charming at the beginning, and again at the end, Takahata’s storytelling slowed down for no good reason in the middle, and I found myself checking my emails and glancing at stories from the daily papers. Sorry.

The Tale of Princess Kaguya – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Adrift: People of a Lesser God (Simply, cert E)

This is the summer when the media are reporting on Africans risking their lives to get to Europe any how – usually by boat. But it’s been going on for some time, and was certainly well established when Dominique Mollard set out to make a “one man and his camera” documentary about the phenomenon in 2010. His preamble states that 60,000 sub-Saharan Africans made it to Spain between 2005 and 2009, and that more than half went via the Canaries, which lie 100 kilometres off the coast of Morocco. That’s a long way in a tiny pirogue, stuffed to the gills with queasy Africans, most of whom have never seen the sea before, and don’t realise that it can get very cold and wet out there. “Once you’ve reached a certain level of suffering, you can do anything” says one of Mollard’s interviewees. And if his documentary has a real value, it’s this: it puts a human face on a statistic; and explains why people risk death when supreme indifference (at best) awaits them at the other end. The emigrants call the trip to Europe “the fight”, tellingly, though it has to be said that there’s also a fight to be had with this documentary, which at 100 minutes is 20 minutes too long. Sure, Mauretania is interesting, and the people there have that long-boned grace of which supermodels are made. But there’s much too much of it, and things only really pick up once Mollard has sated his travelogue appetite and is positioned in the back of the boat, from where he can watch the tired, poor, huddled masses of illegals yearning to breathe free and bouncing over the waves to, they hope, a better life.

Adrift: People of a Lesser God – Watch it/buy it at Amazon




Robot Overlords (Signature, cert 12)

Gillian Anderson and Ben Kingsley are the unnecessary adults lending a patina of maturity to what is in effect a modern manifestation of a Children’s Film Foundation adventure set in world where the robots have landed and the populace is confined to its suburban dwellings (handy when your budget isn’t so large). Our four kid heroes, in effect, rise up against the robot overlords and their human interlocutor, Ben Kingsley, but the key line of dialogue is “Let’s find dad; he’ll know what to do” – which could have been lifted direct from a CFF film of the early 1970s. In fact the vibe is even more old fashioned than that, with director Jon Wright going for a Second World War atmosphere – communal spirit evident, knees-ups surely just a minute away – which the Isle of Man location really lends itself to. Kingsley, as ever, gives it his all, huffing away like the pantomime villain he’s essentially playing, while Anderson is the stay-at-home mum he’s leching after, and who pines for the dad, absent, of course, as is necessary in these things. Our four kids are the Handsome One (Callan McAuliffe), the witty Ron Weasly type (James Tarpey), the snot-faced-kid-from-Love-Actually type (Milo Parker) and the hot-girl-in-training (Ella Hunt). All as it should be. The robot effects won’t give Roland Emmerich sleepless nights and if my tone sounds a bit snarky, the film itself is anything but. And that, really, is its big sell – its honest-to-goodness wide-eyed air of just getting on and doing it.

Robot Overlords – Watch it/buy it at Amazon





© Steve Morrissey 2015