2019 in Review – My Top 20 Films

So through a combination of busyness and laziness, it’s finally in February that I get round to publishing my list of my favourite films from last year. Added to that laziness and delay is the sad fact I only got round to writing my little thoughts for half the films, so do please excuse the gaps at the top of the list here.

As always, I’ve loved getting to see a breadth of films from all over the world, many of which emerged unexpectedly and totally caught me by surprise. Also given the fact that I watched many of these on streaming services (Netflix and MUBI) can’t help but reflect the way industry is changing and the way we get to view films is changing with it. It’s not all bad, as these services gave me the chance to watch some obscure foreign films that barely got released even in London.

There are trailers linked to all the films below if you want to check any out!

20. Leto (Kirill Serebrennikov; Russia)

leto

 

 

 

 

 

19. Us (Jordan Peele; USA)

us-film

 

 

 

 

 

18. Midsommar (Ari Aster; USA/Sweden/Hungary)

midsommar

 

 

 

 

 

17. The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos; UK/Ireland/USA)

favourite

 

 

 

 

 

 

16. Atlantics (Mati Diop; Senegal/France/Belgium)

atlantics

 

 

 

 

 

15. Burning (Lee Chang-dong; South Korea)

burning

 

 

 

 

 

14. In Fabric (Peter Strickland; UK)

infabric

 

 

 

 

 

13. Toy Story 4 (Josh Cooley; USA)

toy-story-43-2

 

 

 

 

 

 

12. Ad Astra (James Gray; USA)

adastra-1

 

 

 

 

 

11. Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach; USA/UK)

MarriageStory

 

 

 

 

 

 

10. The Farewell (Lulu Wang; USA) the-farewell-590x308

Whilst I loved getting to see a depiction of ordinary suburban Chinese life and customs which have hardly been seen on cinema screens in the UK before, it’s the way that The Farewell depicts a very specific family crisis yet imbues it with an authenticity and humour that makes it feel universal. It might be a bit hyperbolic to say anyone who has spent time with their extended families will find much to appreciate and relate to here, but it’s true – characters are multi-faceted and contradictory, much tension is unspoken, many situations are awkward. But at heart it’s about a family that loves each other coming together for what could potentially be their last visit to their ageing matriarch. Charming, funny, and just a little emotionally devastating, Lulu Wang has a gift for turning seemingly ordinary dialogue into both realistically ridiculous, and subtly complex.

9. Hustlers (Lorene Scafaria; USA) Hustlers-Movie-Review-01-770x470

So much about this film could have gone wrong. Based upon a New York magazine article about a group of strippers drugging and stealing from the wealthy men who visit their club, it could have fallen into spurious territory or easily have been tastelessly tone deaf. It’s a credit to writer-director Lorene Scafaria that this headline grabbing set-up becomes a hugely entertaining but thoughtful film about female friendship, toxic masculinity, attitudes towards sex work and conflicting attitudes it creates for those who work in it and those who exploit it, and the continuing struggles of being a woman in what is still a staunchly patriarchal America. Excellent performances all round also help avoid turning characters into stereotypes, and the central friendship between Destiny (Constance Wu) and Ramona (Jennifer Lopez) was one of the most compelling character story arcs I saw all year.

8. Pain and Glory (Pedro Almodóvar; Spain) painandglory

Pedro Almodóvar’s best film since The Skin I Live In from 2011. This may be one of his quieter and more low-key films, but it displays one of the most distinct and authorial filmmakers working today at the height of his creative powers. Grounded by a sensitive central performance by Antonio Banderas, Pain and Glory is an incredibly skilfully told story of film director confronting his later years in life, his creative block and long term illnesses by taking the time to look back over the successes and failures of his past, and the relationships that have defined who he is as a son, an artist, a gay man, a partner. The autobiographical aspects can’t be ignored, but it’s Almodóvar’s genius in blending the features of himself and his previous work that viewers will recognise, with a deeply insightful fictional character study that feels imbued with vitality, humour and sorrow. The best way to describe this film is ‘rich’ – it has a bit of everything really: moving, funny, entertaining, and often profound.

7. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese; USA) irishman

The ultimate Martin Scorsese greatest hits film. The epitome of so much that defined his oeuvre and made his name. That all these aspects of his previous work can come together and make something so epic, so masterfully told and constructed, and so surprisingly funny that it makes the longest film I’ve ever seen at a cinema just breeze by. Minor quibbles with the otherwise pretty astonishing de-ageing technology aside, it’s the strength of the film’s drive and directorial control that you come to forgive and even love its major indulgences. In the end, it finds Scorsese and screenwriter Steven Zaillian in a reflective mood, mirroring the thrills and successes of gangster Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) with the blistering energy of Scorsese’s back catalogue, yet patiently asks what it all comes to in the end and what satisfaction and meaning a life dedicated to crime actually brings. And in the end, it’s always a pleasure to see Joe Pesci onscreen again in a measured and charismatic turn, and Al Pacino getting the biggest laughs chewing every corner of every scene he’s in. I’m so glad I got to see this on the big screen.

6. Monos (Alejandro Landes; Colombia/USA) monos-film

I love films like Monos. Films that really push the boundaries of what cinema can be in terms of storytelling and experiences, it’s brimming with innovation and a sharp artistic eye, it feels like cinema in its purest form. Almost like a Yorgos Lanthimos film with its otherworldly outsider’s view of a disturbing yet quirky world, Monos is a Colombian film depicting a band of child soldiers atop a mountain. Infrequently visited by a tiny but muscular overseer and tasked with guarding an American hostage, the teens are otherwise left to fend for themselves, combatting both boredom, raging hormones, tribal allegiances and power play, and the distant threat of warfare and violence. The film makes no attempt to explain the context of the situation – we never know the causes of the war or who is fighting, instead focusing solely on the impact these abuses of power have on those stuck on the lowest rungs of society. It’s blisteringly creative and strikingly shot in locations that have never been filmed before, the film is incredible to look at. Strange and challenging, the film is part Lord of the Flies mixed with the psychedelic madness of war a la Apocalypse Now.

5. Beats (Brian Welsh; UK) beats

I’m sure it won’t surprise any of you that this film, an ode to raves and dance music, would appeal to me so directly.  Steeped in a nostalgia for a period when I was barely 1 year old, filmed in stylised black and white, and with a killer soundtrack to boot, Beats was one of the most exhilarating films I’d seen in a long time. Scotland, 1994. Two mates from very different backgrounds, Johnno (Christian Ortega) and Spanner (Lorn Macdonald) attempt to discover a fabled illegal rave as foretold on the pirate radio. Featuring the most awe-inspiring and thrilling depiction of club culture I’ve seen on screen, Beats is a thoroughly entertaining love letter to a time and place when youth culture rallied against the world in a new way and a new breed of music found its prime audience. At its heart in a way is a love story between two friends, both aware that adulthood beckons and life as they know it won’t be the same again.

4. Knives Out (Rian Johnson; USA) knives out

The most deliriously enjoyable film I saw all year. And judging by the response in the packed screening I saw it in, one the most crowd-pleasing too. A loving pastiche which knows exactly what sort of film it is and doesn’t take itself seriously in the slightest, Knives Out roots itself within the foundations of the classic Agatha Christie whodunit mystery but takes great pleasure in occasionally upturning the conventions of the genre to pull the rug from under the audience. Silly enough to be surprisingly one of the funnier films I saw this year, and not shirking away from deliberately convoluted plotting, at heart the film realises its wire balancing act between surprising the audience but sticking close enough to the familiar tropes to be overwhelming pleasing to watch.

3. Minding the Gap (Bing Liu; USA) Minding-the-Gap

Nominated for Best Documentary at last year’s Oscars, Minding the Gap at first seems almost a home movie of friends skateboarding. Filmed over several years in the struggling town of Rockford, Illinois, director Bing Liu’s astonishing eye for detail instead turns this into a remarkable portrait of what it means to grow up, when whole lifetimes feel lost because opportunities are scarce, and questions what it means to be a man in a time when notions of masculinity are shifting. Searingly intimate, the very different paths these young men take is presented almost painfully honestly through Liu’s camera: how can life have meaning when it feels like the whole world is against you because of your race, your economic background, your family history. Skateboarding is a release for these guys, but it can only take them so far in life. It’s the background for Minding the Gap as we see them work through hardship and trauma, and offers a film of epic scope and incredible depth, far more so than most fictional dramas can ever hope to depict. I found this very moving.

2. If Beale Street Could Talk (Barry Jenkins; USA) BealeStreet

Following up the era- defining Moonlight would be no easy task. But ambition is one thing writer-director Barry Jenkins certainly doesn’t lack, choosing to adapt James Baldwin’s love story, a portrait of African American communities and families banding together in times of oppression. Lush, sweeping and feeling perhaps even more personal to me as Moonlight did, Beale Street feels … with a vitality which embraces you through the screen. Depicting a young black couple torn apart when Fonny (Stephan James) is falsely accused of rape by a racist cop, the film marries this heartbreaking story of the past with a modern eye, offering a critical but actually optimistic and poetic study of America. At its heart it’s an expressionistic love story, Jenkins again proving himself to be one of the most accomplished visual storytellers working today.

1. For Sama (Waad Al-Kateab, Edward Watts; UK/USA/Syria) for_sama-1000x563

In a year of strong documentaries, For Sama does what factual content can do best – it teaches you about a situation which can be impossible to imagine, offers a deeply personal take on the world which is informative and moving, and it is powerful in a way which could instigate change and discussion. Filmed over several years during the Siege of Aleppo of the Syrian Civil War, our guide is filmmaker and journalist Waad Al-Kateab who documents the ongoing attacks on the city she has called home during her studies. She begins a relationship with a doctor running one of the few hospitals left in the city. After falling pregnant, the couple decide the stay to assist the resistance and help survivors, and she gives birth to Sama, to whom the film is dedicated.

Putting human faces on footage that’s often easy to detach from when seen as news footage, For Sama is tough and hearbreaking. The camera never turns away as mass casualties are brought in to the hospital, and families torn apart, children made orphans. Less a political comment on the context surrounding the war, and more simply a document of how humans survive under extreme stress in the middle of a warzone, it’s often a gruelling and upsetting watch. Not least seeing the children growing up there, playing in the wreckage of burnt out buses and hardly flinching when rockets strike nearby. But it’s a film built on hope – in trying to understand why they stay behind in a warzone, we see the innate importance that comes from caring for one another and the inherent goodness that can be found in relationships of all kinds, most especially in times of crisis. It’s agonising to think that this ever happened and that thousands lived, and thousands more continue to live through this every day. But films like this are important; important to preserve as records in the hope that tragedies like this might one day be a thing of the past. The film is available to screen for free on the Channel 4 website.

2016 in Review – 15 Films

So 2016 will forever be infamous as the year the world as we knew it ended. But beside that, as always it was had a noteworthy plethora of fine artistic riches in all fields, including the reason I’m here: in the cinema. Personally, I have to admit I didn’t truly connect beyond a purely aesthetic and thematic appreciation with that many films this year, especially when compared with 2015 which had a huge range of just downright wonderful films which really really spoke to me in all sorts of ways.

In effect, there was a lot this year which I appreciated more at arm’s length, and very little which I doubt had any lasting impact on me, which was a little strange. That’s not to say genuinely breathtaking, impressive pieces of work like Son of Saul, Tale of Tales or Green Room (which didn’t even make it on this list) were any less worthy than any of the films on this list, or on any previous best of list I’ve done, it’s just even most of this list ended up being films which didn’t truly resonate with me. It feels like I missed a hell of a lot of big films too, so maybe call this a work in progress, and I can update it when I’ve seen more. Either way, there was still a lot to really appreciate this year, including films on topics completely beyond my awareness and understanding. The lack of big films for women this year was a disappointment, but the variety of films from different countries still getting opportunities for release is heartening.

Ones I missed: American Honey; Sing Street; Creed; The Jungle Book; Hunt for the Wilderpeople; Kubo and the Two Strings; Zootopia/Zootropolis/Whateverthehellitwascalledhere; Swiss Army Man; Captain Fantastic; Hell or High Water; The Danish Girl; The Hateful Eight; Spotlight; Youth; A Bigger Splash; Triple 9; Hail, Caesar!; Goodnight Mommy; Victoria; Dheepan; Midnight Special; Eye in the Sky; Arabian Nights; Mustang; Notes on Blindness; The BFG; Jason Bourne; Finding Dory; Things to Come; War on Everyone; Doctor Strange; Train to Busan; The Edge of Seventeen; Chi-Raq; Sully; The Birth of a Nation

Extra Mentions: Everybody Wants Some!!; The Nice Guys; Paterson; Tale of Tales; Green Room; Son of Saul; Anomalisa

Extra Special Mention:

Heal the Living (Katell Quillévéré, France/Belgium)heal-the-living-reparer-les-vivants-venice-2

I can’t officially include this on the list as it hasn’t had a UK release yet (and I’m not sure when it will, if ever) but I was lucky enough to catch a screening of it at the London Film Festival. A wonderfully humane look at the emotional fraught issue of organ transplants and donations, Katell Quillévéré’s deeply compassionate and wonderfully shot and acted film weaves together various small stories, presenting the beautiful little moments of the everyday, and truly earning emotional engagement without twisting your arm for it.

15. Julieta (Pedro Almodóvar, Spain)julieta.jpg

One of Pedro Almodovar’s more understated efforts, perhaps almost seeming to the point of being a little restrained by his usual standards, but this works to its benefit in presenting the gradual unravelling of the mother-daughter relationship which has slowly disintegrated over time. Originally titled Silencio, it’s a quiet intimate film about the way so much drama and strife in life comes to being from what isn’t said, what is restrained and held back. The film itself seems unassuming, but the bursts of Almodovar’s usual brash style and colour, and the fine performances, offer hints to the richer elements which run through the film, open for us to discover for ourselves.

14. Embrace of the Serpent (Ciro Guerra, Colombia/Venezuela/Argentina)embrace3

I don’t think I saw anything more idiosyncratic or original this year. Shot in the starkest black and white, Ciro Guerra’s existential adventure up the Amazon follows two scientists who both travel with the same tribal shaman, 30 years apart, in search of a mysterious plant with supposed healing properties. Thematically, a searing study of the impact of colonialism and a startling counterpart to the typical narrative of the noble white adventurer, and textually, a fascinatingly crafted and edited story of a lost lives and cultures in the remotest of locations. The starkest black and white photography and nods to Apocalypse Now make this an enticing draw for film lovers, and it offers something quite rare in cinema: something genuinely unique.

13. The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn, France/Denmark/USA)neon-demon

Call this a guilty pleasure if you will, but I have to say I really enjoyed Nicolas Winding Refn’s latest. By taking a gleefully outlandish, almost camp, look at the LA fashion industry, mixed with some giallo-style horror, Refn has found a perfect scenario for the often-stilted dialogue and metallic performances, and a fine frame for his beautiful obsession with extreme colour and bold forms. The Neon Demon is quite content to pulse at its own rhythm and it’s one you either go along with, or you don’t. I found it far more engaging than his previous, Only God Forgives, if only for the fact neither the film, nor I, felt we had to take it all too seriously.

12. Moana (Ron Clements/John Musker, USA)moana on island disney.jpg

I missed out on a proper chance to see some of the big animations of the year, namely Finding Dory, Zootropolis and Kubo and the Two Strings, but I did get to see this absolutely sumptuous musical. Depicting the adventure of the daughter of a Polynesian chief desperate to escape her island and explore the world beyond the seas, the film finds Disney walking the thin tightrope between pushing their story and characters into more diverse, self-aware territory, whilst not straying too far from the tried-and-tested chosen one formula. Moana herself is a bold, headstrong and engaging protagonist, and whilst the story itself doesn’t exactly break any new ground, the lush songs and eye-achingly beautiful animation more than make up for this.

11. Your Name (Makoto Shinkai, Japan)your-name-2.jpg

The dizzying success of Makoto Shinkai’s anime could in some ways at this point almost overshadow the qualities of the film itself. But your name holds up remarkably well, depicting the story of a teen boy in Tokyo and a girl living in a rural town who begin to wake up in each other’s bodies at random times. The opening scenes of teen body-swapping comedy are disarmingly charming, and show Shinkai has a real eye for authentic detail. The sudden shift to epic time travelling fantasy in the second half is a little jarring, but it gives the film real emotional resonance and a genuine sense of peril which leads you down all sort of unexpected routes. It perhaps doesn’t have the sheer mastery of the complex material as say a Satoshi Kon film has, but Your Name is undeniably a bold calling card for the director.

10. Nocturnal Animals (Tom Ford, USA)nocturnal-animals

Tom Ford’s sophomore effort certainly provoked its fair share of debate. Not only questions of style over substance (something unavoidable in a film from a renowned fashion designer and stylist) but disagreements regarding the depiction of misogynist violence and female autonomy. I feel I have to disagree with a lot of the criticisms of this film: it seemed to me that the style of Amy Adam’s side of the film served to emphasise the hollowness of her life, and proved a nice counterpoint to the story-within-the-story Texas setting. The surprisingly distressing and intense scenes of violence are less an embrace of sexist attitudes, but a depiction of rage felt by one character against a woman he feels let him down. I respected that this was a grown-up, challenging film which trusted the audience to keep up with the multiple plotlines, and which trusted in the strength of the incredible cinematography and production design to present such a rich story. It errs a little too closely to exploitation-level tastelessness at times, in a way which doesn’t always sit comfortably with the film’s lofty ambitions, but as an exercise in both narrative experimentation and thematic richness, I was really impressed with Nocturnal Animals.

9. I, Daniel Blake (Ken Loach, UK/France/Belgium)I__DANIEL_BLAKE_-_still_5.jpg

The winner of the Palme d’Or, Ken Loach’s latest magnum opus is an unassuming but quietly angry film; powerful and emotive but not without a warm, almost charming and distinctly human centre. Depicting the Kafkaesque (a word used in probably every review I read of this film, but one that is deftly applicable) struggles of a middle aged joiner, who following a heart attack, is deemed too sick to work by doctors, but judged well enough to work by the assessment for unemployment benefits. Grimly authentic in its portrayal of lower class struggles, with so many living in run-down accommodation and working bare bones jobs, the film is a little more heavy-handed in its depiction of the ruthlessness of the job centre and unemployment. But stories are drawn from real research, and perhaps in propaganda-style, it needed this heavier dichotomy to really convey the message at the heart of this film: the welfare system is broken, and human lives are at stake because of it.

8. Love and Friendship (Whit Stillman, Ireland/France/Netherlands)love-friendship-beckinsale-bennett.jpg

Possibly one the most pleasantly enjoyable and delightful films I saw, Love and Friendship is an adaptation of an early Jane Austen novella Lady Susan. The genius of this film is to strip away the romanticism which comes so readily packaged with most Austen adaptations, leaving a deliciously arch film about upper class social scheming but untinged by any sort of cynicism. Kate Beckinsale (who you forget how good she can be when she’s not doing endless Underworld sequels) clearly relishes the juicy role of the conniving yet charming Lady Susan, working to worm her way within an influential landowning family to bag a rich husband for herself and her daughter. I’ve not seen any Whit Stillman films before, but he has a reputation for wordy witty examinations of social etiquettes and he has found a fine outlet for his style here.

7. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (Gareth Edwards, USA)rogue-one-jyn-ersa-geared-up.jpg

I’ve made an effort to avoid seeing trailers this year, and so went in to this having seen only a few snippets of footage and read a few generally glowing reviews. And I’ve got to say I generally agreed with them. The most complete and satisfying blockbuster this year by far, a film made by fans for fans. The obvious efforts that have gone into recreating the richness of the New Hope era universe pays dividends, making a genuinely immersive experience. The characters lack the iconic feel of the original heroes and there is such a huge amount to introduce, both in worlds and new characters, that it does feel rushed. But in creating an intense, thrilling war movie which really engages with the best of the Star Wars universe, Rogue One is something very exciting indeed.

6. Little Men (Ira Sachs, USA)little-men-750x563-1.jpg

This is the first Ira Sachs film I have seen and it has been long overdue. A seemingly simple New York tale of family conflict, gentrification and class divide told from the view of two pre-teen boys who become fast friends. This despite the fallout and disagreements between their parents once one family inherits an apartment building and have to raise the rent of the small garments shop the other family runs. Depicting the little difficulties of everyday life but from the viewpoint not yet tainted by cynicism and woe, Sach’s film is a quiet but softly devastating film about the unintentional boundaries that come between people, and the ways we work to try to bridge those gaps.

5. Bone Tomahawk (S. Craig Zahler, USA)bone_tomahawk.jpg

I still can’t believe how very very fond I am of this film. Well, maybe fond isn’t the right word for a rough-and-ready horror western film which revels in period details, quirky dialogue, cannibalism and some of the most bone-crunchingly nasty death scenes I think I can recall. But I was surprised how much I enjoyed this unusual blend of a movie. It being a debut effort for writer director S Craig Zahler, the flaws do show, namely a sense of overindulgence. But the vast commitment of the actors helps elevate the material which still easily conveys the sheer passion Zahler feels for this project. Kurt Russell does stellar work making his sheriff more than a grizzled old-timer, but it’s a near unrecognisable Richard Jenkins who helps give this film real heart and eccentric character.

4. Room (Lenny Abrahamson, Canada/Ireland/UK)roooooom.jpg

So much could have gone wrong with this film that it is perhaps a small miracle that Room came out as fully-formed, as heartfelt and humane, and as uplifting as it did. Tackling a fraught issue ripped straight from the tabloids, Brie Larsson excels as the woman kidnapped off the street and kept prisoner in a small room, forced to give birth to the captor’s baby. Her relationship with the remarkable Jacob Tremblay gives the film its true resonance, and director Lenny Abrahamson does fantastic work showing the naïve, overawed perspective of the little boy growing up in a restricted world, raised by a stoic mother doing the best she can. Their characters are remarkably textured, and give the film a real credible, heart-breaking power.

3. The Witch (Robert Eggers, USA/Canada)thewitch2.jpg

One of the most well regarded horror films of recent years. I read how it didn’t win a lot of fans among horror aficionados who criticised its slow pacing and lack of scares. But the film’s strength lay in its complete evocation of 17th Century New England, from the remarkable period detail and richness of the language, to make an experience truly draped in an atmosphere of dread and despair. A family is banished from their town for differences in religious practice, and build an isolated farm on the edge of a vast forest. Their faith and trust in one another is tested as a series of personal disasters befall their home. As much a test of will for the viewer as it is a study of religious belief pushed to its very limits, The Witch is a supremely intelligent film, handsomely shot in natural light, that truly understands the power of suggestion to really help the audience immerse themselves.

 

2. Arrival (Denis Villeneuve, USA)arrival.jpg

Probably the most striking and remarkable film I saw last year, and one I can’t wait to visit again from new perspectives. Arrival boldly meets the aims of the best sci-fi, which is to explore the human condition through unusual and compelling concepts, whether considering how the future is moulded by the present, or visualising how explorers survive on other planets. The biggest achievement is that despite the bold set-up (aided by some truly striking visual effects, a stark breathy soundtrack, and some remarkably innovative production design), at heart this is not so much a film about communicating with aliens, but a film about communication between humans and the various forms that takes.

The importance of good communication is stressed throughout, whether between the scientists and military men working at one of the alien craft sites, or more pivotally, between the various nations all encountering extra-terrestrial visitors, who potentially hold the safety of planet Earth in their hands. Thinking about this now feels even more pertinent than my first viewing, considering we are now in the era of fake news, post-truth and alternative facts, and so much of the progress we have made as a civilisation so far could potentially be risked by breakdowns in open communication.

1. The Wailing (Na Hong-jin, South Korea)the-wailing-2016.jpg

I was lucky enough to catch a screening of this at the London Film Festival, and wasn’t sure whether to include it on this list. But it turns out this film had a tiny release at the end of November which I hadn’t even been aware of, and which sadly seemed to slip into obscurity. Which is a great shame! As a filmgoing experience, especially in a year where I generally found even many of the good films a bit staid and appreciable only at arm’s length, nothing came close to the sheer brazenness, audacity, scope and insanity of The Wailing. It’s not perfect; it’s overstuffed and only just gets away with wild leaps in tone before getting a bit lost in its own twists near the end. Yet for someone who loves cinema best as an experiential medium, someone who craves films which impact me viscerally, The Wailing certainly stands as one of the most remarkable films I’ve seen in a long while.

Depicting a spate of gruesome murders by villagers in a seeming trance-like state in a small town on the edge of a vast forest, the film finds director Korwan Na Hong-jin start in familiar territory as his debut The Chaser. But it quickly shifts to more disturbing supernatural realms. The police begin to question whether the town has been cursed by a mysterious Japanese visitor who lives in the forest. Brimming with more ideas and more innovation in single set-ups than many films can manage in a complete running time, the direction and editing are taut enough to make the wild shifts in tone and the more overblown moments both sickeningly believable and achingly tense. A remarkable scene depicting the simultaneous casting of death spells is deafeningly loud, frenetic and intense and one of the year’s best.