My Top 20 Films of 2015: Part 2

My 10 favourite films of 2015. And find films 20-11 here.

The ones I missed: Crimson Peak; Slow West; A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence; Eden; Steve Jobs; Jurassic World; Amy; The Look of Silence; 45 Years; John Wick; Taxi Tehran; Appropriate Behaviour; Pasolini; Love Is Strange; The Forbidden Room; Sunset Song; Brooklyn; The Good Dinosaur; Mistress America; While We’re Young; The Wonders; Love & Mercy; Far from the Madding Crowd; Trainwreck; Clouds of Sils Maria; Chappie; Spy; Ant Man; Straight Outta Compton; 99 Homes; The Martian; Bridge of Spies; Macbeth; Foxcatcher

10. Catch Me Daddy (Daniel Wolfe, UK)
I was so impressed with this rugged and fierce low-budget thriller, where so many elements are stripped back to make something so very urgent and shocking. It follows Laila (Sameena Jabeen Ahmed), a young woman who has run away from her Pakistani family to live a meagre existence with her boyfriend in his trailer. The family tracks her down and her brothers and several bounty hunters chase them through the night onto the Yorkshire dales, as the couple fights to escape.

The depiction of the Pakistani family could be said to border on an offensive stereotype, but at the heart of this film is a desperate survival thriller where the limitations of setting and plot work to create a claustrophobic verisimilitude, full of restrictions. It’s set over a single night, and the small scale helps infuse a sense of dread over every scene – you can’t possibly imagine how they can they could escape when everything seems weighted against them. The ending scene alone is brutal and terrifying. It’s beautifully filmed with some interesting stylistic choices that actually makes this an almost hypnotic experience.

9. The Tribe (Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy, Ukraine/Netherlands)
A teenager is sent to a Ukrainian boarding school for deaf children where he quickly falls into the vicious criminal gangs that run the dormitories and terrorise the younger children and local residents. What’s remarkable is the entire film is told in sign language without subtitles. As a formal experiment about the amazing ability of cinema’s visual language to tell stories and convey themes, this film is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The filmmaking is impeccable – there are long takes here that rival Birdman for sheer audacity and achievement, and I learnt a lot about how important sound design is to immerse you within diegetic worlds.

The Tribe is also a fascinating allegory for Ukraine’s displaced position within Europe, and a depiction of the harmful conditions caused by poverty. It’s an incredibly tough watch with scenes that rank amongst the most disturbing I’ve seen all year. I honestly don’t think I’d ever want to watch it again, but I’m glad I’ve seen it.

8. Ex Machina (Alex Garland, UK)
At a time when so many sci-fi films are massive mega-budget epics, it’s invigorating when an unashamed genre picture makes the decision to remain low-key. Essentially playing out as a chamber piece with four characters, Ex Machina is a fascinating allegorical story which plays with modern fears of rapid progress and technology, and feels like a classic even as you are watching it.

Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), a young computer programmer, wins a competition to meet elusive CEO Nathan (Oscar Isaac), who gives him the task of performing a Turing test on his newest creation, an AI robot called Ava (Alicia Vikander), to determine whether she could pass as human. It’s a wonderfully simple premise, which expands in ways I never expected. It plays out like a futuristic Gothic horror, with its isolated mansion full of secrets causing a descent into fevered paranoia, and characters who never appear as they seem, not least Ava as the Frankensteinian monster. There’s solid performances all round by a cast very much en vogue this year, not least a starmaking turn by Vikander, who graces Ava with a balletic otherworldliness.

7. The Diary of a Teenage Girl (Marielle Heller, USA)
A wonderfully refreshing and frank movie on what it is like to grow up, what it means to be a woman, and how sex can leave you giddy with emotion, Diary of a Teenage Girl had me grinning throughout both from sheer recognition and relatability, and because it’s a wonderfully written movie, very funny with an incredible fearless performance by Bel Powley as Minnie. Set in San Francisco in the mid-1970s, we follow Minnie as she first explores her sexual desires, beginning a secret affair with her mother’s boyfriend.

The most remarkable thing about this film is the balance of tone it achieves. No act or emotion is shied away from, but the film never falls into the pit of judgement or shaming. Minnie is entirely unashamed by her actions and it refreshing to see a film which takes risks with potentially controversial themes and produces something honest and universal. This is a noteworthy debut and Marielle Heller is a name worth remembering.

6. Inherent Vice (Paul Thomas Anderson, USA)
I’ve always struggled to read any Thomas Pynchon, as much as I’ve desperately wanted to engage with his work. Often brimming with dozens of characters, heaps of cultural references and quotations, and wild shifts in tone and voice, Pynchon’s work doesn’t seem adaptable for the screen. So I think it’s a huge achievement that Paul Thomas Anderson was able to translate Inherent Vice and create something so complete and so assured.

A beguiling mixture of film noir and stoner movie, Inherent Vice follows the multiple investigations of “Doc” Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix), an LA county private detective and dopehead. It’s a deliberately dense and mystifying experience, capturing the essence of a time in place in transition – the end of 60s-era hippieism and idealism and rise of corrupt politics and paranoia. Yet this never stops it from being a genuinely funny and farcical romp, and one of the most unexpectedly entertaining adventures of this year. The way all aspects from the production design to the mellow dialogue and Jonny Greenwood’s lush soundtrack completely immerse you in this world is awe-inspiring and left me feeling a little dazed (and a little blazed too). The convoluted plotting and sheer weight of material can be demanding and deserves multiple watches, but I’ll be a bit controversial here in saying I think the film makes perfect sense as challenging yet conventional detective story. Inherent Vice also has the honour of being the only film since university that I’ve gotten to see projected in 35mm, which gave it this gorgeous grain and texture which only improved the evocation of the 70s.

5. Mommy (Xavier Dolan, Canada)
The latest by the sickeningly talented Xavier Dolan (he was 24/25 when it was being made) is his most mature yet. It feels both epic and intimate, following the lives of those normally considered quite small and unimportant and raising them to a pedestal of high drama and high emotion.

We see widowed mother Di (Anne Dorval) struggle with the task of raising her troubled son Steve (Antoine Olivier Pilon), who has ADHD, is prone to violent outbursts and has just been released from an institution. With help from shy and repressed neighbour Kyla (Suzanne Clément), they work hard to get by. It’s a simple premise, but brimming with such heartfelt emotion and positive energy that makes this a tough but rewarding, moving and entertaining watch. It’s obvious Dolan deeply loves his characters and he throws every stylistic trick at this to make something which feels very special.

4. Inside Out (Pete Docter, USA)
Proof that Pixar works best when taking risks, Inside Out is the strongest film they’ve made in years and surely one of the most ambitious – a challenging study of the mind of an 11 year old girl which simultaneously appeals to both adults and children with a broad array of jokes, insights and titbits. There have been articles bemoaning the flaws with the depiction of emotions in Riley’s mind, but… come on, this isn’t a documentary. What we have is a vast concept attempting to depict how our minds work in a way that everybody can appreciate, all beautifully designed and performed.

The sheer weight of ideas and bases covered can get a little frenetic, but the way the story is able to tie the stresses of a family moving to a new city with the gradual breakdown of a young mind is pretty incredible. Kudos too for making a film which shows the necessary importance of sadness, and how we cannot experience the truest forms of happiness without it.

3. Carol (Todd Haynes, UK/USA)
Probably no other film this year has come with such a formidable wave of critical appreciation and as such a huge weight of expectation. Thankfully, Carol delivers on every front. What an extraordinarily transcendent film this is, where the slightest gestures and minutest details are magnified to create this enveloping and magnetic sensation of feeling almost drunk with adoration for someone.

It is named after Carol (Cate Blanchett), the object of desire of young Therese (Rooney Mara) who is true anchor of this story. Both their performances are so true to life, their conversations scattered with these wonderful little asides and moments of silence that conveys the scenario of two women both discovering feelings from one another that they’ve never experienced before. The chemistry is amazing. It’s the simplicity of the story and sheer amount of thought and care that has gone into every detail from the costumes and to the swoon-worthy soundtrack (seriously, how has Carter Burwell never been nominated for an Oscar?) that truly gives this film its power.

2. Mad Max: Fury Road (George Miller, Australia/USA)
This film is omnipresent on pretty much every ‘best of’ list of 2015 but that’s for bloody good reason. Jesus Christ, it’s a hell of a ride. Essentially playing out as one giant chase scene, Fury Road is surely one of the greatest action films ever made – experiential cinema of the purest kind, with a completely fully realised world, complete characters with an unusual amount of depth and drive, some wonderful artistic asides (including the lovely silhouettes of the night scene in the middle) and bold creative choices.

All aspects of the production design are just gorgeous, with an embrace of the grotesque and a sheer cacophony of detail and visual splendour that makes the film exhilarating. All aspects from the editing to the special effects to the stunt work is mind-blowing, although perhaps what is most respectable is the focus given to characters and themes. The film has roots in Western frontier films about the need for a place to call home and where survivors have to fight hard to make their lives matter. It explores environmental disaster and the consequences of political conflict and vengeance. And as many have pointed out, it’s an action film which dares to explore themes of female empowerment and give varied autonomous roles to women. It all boils down to the most extravagant, sense-numbing, over-the-top two hours of madness I’ve probably ever seen, a tense thrill ride that is rare for truly giving us something to root for.

1. Timbuktu (Abderrahmane Sissako, Mauritania/France)
It feels like a rare treat these days going into a cinema totally unknown and unprepared for what’s coming. Other than the word of one good review I saw, this was how I went into Timbuktu. And what a fine film it was: a humanist masterpiece which explores difficult subjects with concern, honesty and humour.

Inspired by the real life takeover of Timbuktu in Mali by Islamist extremists in 2012, and the news story of the stoning of an unmarried couple, Timbuktu is a documentary-like collection of interconnected stories concerning the struggles of the ordinary people under the dictatorial regime. Terrorists on motorbikes pronounce the new rules over loudspeakers: sport and music is forbidden, women must dress appropriately, unmarried men and women cannot be in the same room. The residents remain defiant in wishing to live as they always had done, and in exposing the absurdity of the new regime. A woman at a fish market argues with a man forcing her to wear gloves. Another man is forced to remove his trousers in the street because they are too long. Others don’t get off so lightly.

Timbuktu’s real strength lies in its ability to present such a wide range of stories with maturity and compassion, all the while imbuing it with a sense of truth and drama that makes it feel vital. It displays the propensity for absolutely anyone to perform cruel or noble actions. It depicts the importance of individuality as well a sense of Islam as a community, where lives can come together and live peacefully and fruitfully. People are inherently contradictory – the invaders break as many rules as they enforce. But this truth about our flaws is never presented in a way that is patronising or lecturing. The terrorists are depicted neither as monsters or heroes

There’s long been this sense of Timbuktu in Western culture as being a mythical place of bounteous riches. Instead, it’s a poor, but historically important town on the edge of the Sahara. But it’s films like this that perhaps offer a sad indictment of Western ignorance to plight of many ordinary people, and can offer us a glimpse of these lives in a way that is searingly honest and humane, yet also entertaining and charming in its own way. It’s a tragic film, but not one without hope. A scene involving a game of football is especially magical. It’s because of films like this that I love cinema’s ability to show lives and stories so new to me and make them feel real.

Thoughts on Ex Machina

2015
Writer/Director: Alex Garland

After leaving uni and moving back home, I got into the habit of going to the cinema at least once a week. Having more money than usual saved up and enough time off to go whenever I was free, it was the perfect opportunity to indulge my love of cinema beyond my degree. Now I’ve moved to London and am working full time, it’s proving a lot harder to keep up with my regular trips than I’d anticipated. Tickets are hideously expensive here, especially given I’m only free to go at pricier peak times and weekends. It’s typical then of course that so many fantastic-looking films are playing right now; ones which I’m frantically working myself up into excitement about seeing. It seems I (gladly) can’t break my habit and ended up making an impromptu trip to my nearest PictureHouse to go see Ex Machina.

Now this I’ve been anticipating for a while. I’m a big fan of Alex Garland, the author and screenwriter behind some of the most distinct and engaging sci-fi films from the last decade or so. His Danny Boyle collaborations 28 Days Later and Sunshine are both fascinating but flawed works that in their own ways revolutionised the zombie and sci-fi/horror genres respectively. His adaptation of Haruki Murakami’s Never Let Me Go gave an understated and all-too-human approach to another sci-fi sub-genre, whilst his work on Dredd helped make it genuinely what is fast becoming one of my favourite films from the last few years. His film work has a style and sensibility which corresponds well with my own love of post-apocalyptic fiction and John Wyndham novels.

So anticipation was high with this, his directorial debut. The trailer looked crisp and stylish, and appealing unlike anything else being released right now. Early reviews were positive. Ex Machina follows Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), a young programmer working for a giant Google-like search engine company, who wins a competition granting him the chance to spend a week with Nathan (Oscar Isaac), the elusive CEO who has retreated to his private recluse in the Nordic tundra. The trip turns out to be anything but a casual bonding experience – Nathan has secretly been developing an advanced female robot named Ava (Alicia Vikander), and is asking Caleb to perform a Turing test on her, to determine whether her Artificial Intelligence can pass off as indistinguishably human.

From this sci-fi premise comes an intimate character-based study in a similar vein to Duncan Jones’s Moon. The film is essentially a three-hander, and takes places near entirely in one location, the practical and impersonal spaces and corridors of the research lab, its crisp lighting and emptiness acting as a blank canvas for the human drama unfolding. It plays out similar to something like Sleuth, a claustrophobic study of duplicity and power games. Caleb is very much our protagonist, our voice of reason. Much of the film is made up of theoretical conversations between him and Nathan, with Caleb asking the questions which often popped in my head as I was watching. Whilst the content may not be that complicated on a technical level, it still demanded attention and engagement from the audience in a way which I found quite exhilarating; this is a film which trusts in the capabilities of its audience.

Gleeson brings his usual warmth to Caleb, making him an engaging everyman with his wide-eyed naiveté and genuine awed enthusiasm, as he stumbles through this overwhelmingly alien location. Overall, his motivations are clear: he is driven by a genuine enthusiasm for the project, and is excited by the prospect of being part of “the greatest scientific event in the history of man”. His general readability and vulnerability leaves him struggling under the pressures he faces – from Nathan’s domineering presence, not just physically and intellectually but in the very essence of his house, filled with cameras, and also from Ava, as his fascination for her evolves from simple scientific curiosity into cautious emotional and sexual desire.

And it’s no wonder why he’s so fascinated. The production design behind her creation is just incredible, blending human and machine in a way that is both believable and unique in the long history of the cinematic cyborg. Her face has this flawless skin that looks as if it has been hand-crafted from the softest material, but her body is a metal skeleton of gears and parts within a transparent ergonomic shell. It’s chillingly abject, not least because of Vikander’s fantastic performance. The sheer physicality of it is so great; bringing an almost balletic fluidity but restricted by a stillness and efficiency of movement that betrays the artifice beneath her humanity. She’s the iPod robot, almost like Eve from WALL-E. Her childlike eyes and inquisitive mannerisms convey an innate intelligence that the viewer can’t help but be drawn to, beyond her already extraordinary appearance.

For me though, the most fascinating character is Nathan. Likely drawing from the cliché of the anti-social tech genius turned multi-billionaire, Nathan is a fascinating and frustrating hotbed of contradictions. He often drinks to excess, perhaps accounting for some deep-seated loneliness or depression, but then pushes himself with vigorous exercise the next day. He adopts an easy-going swagger around Caleb, but this is surely a performance to disguise the effort he needs to retain his dominance over this private world he has created for himself, threatened by this invited intrusion. It is deliberate that Nathan has chosen this isolated Xanadu-like mansion as his own – his own private kingdom where he is head of state. He asserts his superiority over the others, dominating awkward conversations with Caleb through assertive comebacks and short phrases, and often walking around topless to expose his bulking physique in contrast to Caleb’s more spindly figure. At one point, Nathan berates Caleb for being too objective and rigid, using the metaphor of a Jackson Pollock painting to praise the benefits of spontaneity, yet completely ignoring his own calculating nature.

Overall, I read the film to be about the facets and features that define humanity, not necessarily in an innate self-aware sense, but in the ways that we perceive humanity in others and how we perform and define it to others and ourselves. Specifically, there is a gendered aspect to this claustrophobic chamber piece, namely a Battle of the Sexes conflict between what constitutes natural behaviours between men and women. Ava has been programmed by Nathan, yet you are led to question to what degree her personality has been written, to what extent she develops beyond Nathan’s techno-sexual fantasy come to life. She has a natural femininity, using subtle flirtation and a dry sense of humour in ways which one can’t perceive as having been created by the brusque Nathan. She tests Caleb with her sensuality as much as he tests her with his objective questioning. It reminded me on the one hand of Under the Skin, which used it’s outsider’s view to study perceived feminine behaviour and how others respond to it, and on the other of Her, which depicted another relationship between an AI female and human man. It wouldn’t be so easy as to say Ex Machina is a cautionary tale about the potential dangers of artificial intelligence (in the vein of The Terminator maybe?!) as the script regularly seems to depict the uglier side of humanity in a way which is hard to sympathise with.

Thankfully, Garland mostly avoids the problems with endings both 28 Days Later and Sunshine suffered, as both those films lost the careful atmosphere they had both created by descending into chaos in the final thirds. The restrictions of Ex Machina don’t allow this, although the film twists more away from the philosophical drama and mysteries of the start into a more conventional thriller, at times feeling like a fairly strange episode of Black Mirror. Yet the consistency of tone and Garland’s thoughtful directing make the overall film very satisfying. Despite the chilliness of the script and setting, the film even finds opportunities for humour, such as Ava’s witty flirting and even an unexpected impromptu dance scene. Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow’s score also adds to the uneasy feeling this film made in me (big ups too for having ‘Husbands’ by Savages playing over the end credits). Ex Machina has proven to be one of the most distinct and enjoyable films I’ve seen in a while.