It's that time again when we can celebrate the many wonderful movies of the past year! Because it's one of my favorite things to do, I now present my favorite ten films of 2017. This is not my list of "great" or even the "best" films of the year, just ones that I found especially resonant and meaningful, ones that I will happily watch many times again. Of course, there were many more than ten that I loved, and so you'll see a couple ties and many references to other pictures. All the films I've referenced in this post were in the running for my favorites, so if you haven't seen them all, I highly recommend you do!
This year, as usual, I found it difficult to limit my selection simply because of how timely so many films have been lately, commenting on the many anxieties, fears, and hopes of 2017 USA, sometimes recreating those in fabulous artistic form. Also, as sometimes happens, this year featured a great many films that seemed to be in dialogue with each other, tackling the same issues, characters, and plots. Consider the fascination with Wonder Woman, racial horror, women maneuvering a man's world, Stephen King, and even World War II in western Europe. We also saw huge franchises doing huge things this year with superheroes, Jedi, apes, and ghosts.
Are you ready? Let's do this.
Really, how do you pick between two of the best superhero movies ever made, especially when neither lies in Disney's Marvel Cinematic Universe? Logan is a bleak, sad, yet rousing finale for Hugh Jackman as Wolverine even though it's really Patrick Stewart as a broken old Xavier who steals the show. Macho in the best possible ways, it plays with genre conventions and with its own franchise before allowing a hero's story to finally end.
Wonder Woman, on the other hand, is a fabulously realized movie -- easily the best in its respective franchise -- and an explosive beacon of hope in a year of hotly debated sexist politics. It's also just a damn good superhero action flick. Interestingly, it came accompanied this year by Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, detailing the true story behind the hero, which is itself a remarkably vivid, sensual, and progressive take on a biopic.
The historical thriller of the year, for me, had to be something fresh, which is why Mudbound, lovely as it is, didn't make my list. My pick was about the war for the bodies of Americans and took place in one of the deadliest, most destructive riots on U.S. soil. Detroit, though perhaps poorly titled, concerns the events of the Detroit riot of 1967 but investigates almost exclusively the Algiers Motel as a grand centerpiece. The movie takes the chaos and horrors of the riots and turns this narrative into a microcosm, and in-depth examination on a small scale of what was happening on a huge scale. This sequence -- the body of the film -- is a horror cinema masterpiece as we watch murderous white psychopaths and terrified black bodies play out a sadistic game for their lives. Stopping short of making any grand pronouncements on racism, the film nevertheless forces viewers (of any identity) into the headspace of at least one person unlike themselves. The film is meant to be an immersive, provocative experience, and is (thank heaven) not a moral treatise. That makes it endlessly complex. Kathryn Bigelow has done it again!
Horror films don't often make the Best Picture race, but this year had some doozies. Gerald's Game was just gorgeous, and Annabelle: Creation turned its maybe-franchise into a full-fledged cinematic universe. Then there's the Greek tragedy of The Killing of a Sacred Deer with its weird aesthetic and thrilling climax. But nothing beats Get Out, the daring movie that took us by storm last spring. When a young man goes to meet his girlfriend's family, it's only a matter of time before tensions run high, right? Add some of the smartest social satire in years, a dash of classism, sprinkle some fanciful psychology, and then pour all that onto the main course: a blistering indictment of casual racism in America. From the uncomfortable problems of "colorblind" white liberalism to outright racist eugenics, this movie runs the gamut and is determined to disturb. This is one of those films that has something devastating to say with every word, every shot. It requires multiple viewings to catch everything, but it will take a toll on you, so proceed with caution.
For a period, ensemble romance/horror feature, I was going to go with The Beguiled, but then The Shape of Water just kept kicking to the fore of my mind. Whereas the former features psychological thrills, southern Gothic sensibilities, and no small amount of racist implications, the latter is a love letter to cinema, to classic horror, and to love itself. The plot is boring and derivative, but the style here is everything, as are the updated characters. It celebrates itself spitting in the face of Trump's rise to power: Our heroine has incredible agency and is disabled, her best friends are a black woman and a closeted gay man, and with the help of a Soviet spy they escape the laboratory to set the monster -- and themselves -- free. More importantly, this film reminds us that romance is always present in horror and that horror is always present in romance.
Two movies about the evacuation at Dunkirk, each as lovely as the other. One, helmed by, arguably, the Best Director this year, uses nonlinear storytelling and amazing effects to immerse us on a beach under siege. It's a devastating look at war in fresh and exciting ways; it also daringly puts the audience in states of anxiety and terror much like those experienced by its characters. The other uses, easily, the Best Actor this year to riveting success in the government houses also under siege. It showcases him, moreover, in dramatic lighting and excellent makeup and gives him an incredibly well-written part. These films are two great filmmakers at the top of their games, getting everyone unified in vision to make something really special.
There were at least three great crime movies this year with killer soundtracks. Baby Driver did it with some sharp comedy and wicked car chases. Atomic Blonde did it with a badass leading woman, some slick spy work, and fabulous costumes. Both also featured some amazing editing and cinematography. Even Colossal, though not a crime movie, is fabulous and weird, funny and profound, sweet and silly, a totally unique viewing experience with strong feminist elements. I, Tonya blew them all away. Densely plotted and character-driven, the film uses a mockumentary style to revisit the life of Tonya Harding. Hilarious and dark, this is a work of genius writing and directing: With all its interruptions conspicuous editing, and downright manipulative storytelling, we're never quite sure what to believe. It's not unlike Black Swan except in tone; it shares a portrayal of desperate characters descending into an amoral madness to achieve their goals, issues of violent lovers and terrifying mothers, and remarkably similar camerawork. Who knew this movie would be so great?
This is a tough decision for me. In terms of basic plot and themes, Wind River is not a far cry, as it also (more sensitively and aesthetically) investigates a rape-murder in a racially-charged environment. As a crime-driven thriller and unlikeable-character study, you might not do better this year than All the Money in the World, which also features top-notch performances and direction. But, for me, Three Billboards is a more complex, less bleak, and ultimately more fascinating film. Martin McDonagh's incredibly dense screenplay and direction make for a movie that smarts like a whip and makes you laugh when you're not sure you should. It also makes you gasp from fright, gasp for air, and grasp for meaning in a world where meaning is increasingly difficult to make. It's not a solution, it's not even really a drama; it's a mirror (albeit a funhouse mirror) on ourselves, and that makes it painfully uncomfortable to watch or talk about afterward.
Pretty much a given "great" movie for 2017, The Post brazenly assaults the idea of "fake news" in times of crisis and lionizes the virtues of a free press. Apart from its true story of publishing the Pentagon Papers under Nixon's vengeful administration, it is a fabulously detailed period drama and a nail-biting thriller. Following other great news-centered dramas, it revolves around great performances from an all-star cast directed by a pitch-perfect Spielberg, who, even when his hand is heavy, gives us a film crafted with genius. It is also a feminist snapshot of a woman succeeding where men fail in an atmosphere dominated by and solely populated by men, much like Molly's Game and its legal thrills, another crucial movie in the year of #MeToo.
It's almost hard to remember that this year started off with Beauty and the Beast, but that was actually 2017. Back then, I thought Disney would have the musical of the year. I was wrong. The Greatest Showman is a fabulous love letter to show business, freaks, and, well, love. An infectious, joyful film that perfectly matches substance to the most stylish glamour this year on screen, it also boasts easily my favorite movie-musical score in years. The cinematography, production design, choreography, and costumes all closely follow the score as some of the best in recent memory. It's become fashionable to hate on this movie for its lack of historicity, its skim relation to the real-life P.T. Barnum, its glossing over of violent animal-abusing. But the reality is that this film is not meant to be a biopic. If its lead character simply had another name, no one would bat an eye. As it is, the film's championing of artists and everyone who has ever been marginalized and cast out make it both timely and important viewing.
I really loved Novitiate, but for religious/feminist/historical psychodrama, I am all about mother!. It's only the most aggressively weird, palpably pretentious, balls-out-and-on-fire movie of the year, maybe the decade. mother! is a real motherfucker of a movie, and that's about the sum of it. What starts as a psychosexual domestic thriller quickly becomes a bizarre allegory of biblical stories and the violent history of the world, and by the end we've been assaulted by crazy-porn until it feels like our eyes are bleeding. Besides some amazing filmmaking, sound mixing, acting, and cinematography, the film also invites deep discussion. What I took from it was a powerful feminist critique of Judeo-Christian-patriarchy, as it depicts the horrors of a trophy wife to a Great Man against an Edenic setting. That's not the only storyline or theme, and it's not even necessarily a correct take on the film. But that's what makes this film so amazing. It's a consummate work of art, the sort of trash-meets-high-art that only occasionally pays off; here, it's the queen of the crop. Go on, let it violate your eyeballs. You won't regret it. Maybe.
* * * * * * *
Finally, I'd like to praise some top-shelf 2017 Science Fiction features. I had to cut these from my list of favorites, but all deserve a mention. A sequel to the classic, Blade Runner 2049 brought even more cerebral beauty to one of the best genre films ever made, directed by visionary Denis Villeneuve. Star Wars: The Last Jedi, though polarizing fans, is unquestionably one of the most beautiful films of the year. Incredible visual storytelling, devastating drama, and lots of heart make the latest installment a game-changer for the franchise that hit a wretched low spot with The Force Awakens. Finally, War for the Planet of the Apes brought an end to an unlikely franchise that far surpassed any earlier incarnations of the story. This severely underrated prequel trilogy to the classic features Andy Serkis in his best dramatic role since Gollum, picturesque visuals and morally complex themes, and some of the most arresting war action on film that doesn't center on WWII or Vietnam. Make sure these movies find their way into your watch list.
So what do you think? Did I unfairly recognize a picture? Neglect one of your favorites? Leave a comment and let's talk movies!
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