Here are my ranked top 10 films of 2015, with 10 runner-ups listed below in alphabetical order.
This was a diverse year for film, with exemplary period pieces, blockbusters, slices-of-life, issue dramas and documentaries. Not everything I admired or liked could make this list of 20 films, so I'll also mention here a few more that were only a notch or two below: The Look of Silence, the meditative sequel to Joshua Oppenheimer's masterful The Act of Killing; 45 Years, Andrew Haigh's bleak look at commitment and choice; The End of the Tour, James Ponsoldt's quirky talk opera; Grandma, Paul Weitz's clever spin on the road movie; and The Duke of Burgundy, a provocative piece on love and sexuality.
And without further ado, here are the best films of 2015 (click on the links for full reviews)...
1 | Carol
Carol’s story is told in the eyes, the gestures, the slight grins, the middling jokes – a secret language. Director Todd Haynes provides a classically stylized romance, immersed in its 1950s era and soaked in melodramatic conventions. As imbued with an undercurrent of political immediacy, the movie soars into the realm of the essential and the timeless. Carol is a traditional story of forbidden love, captured with a radical queer lens. Its two women, fighting temptation and the impenetrable nature of their connection, are forced to communicate in code, with the world around them unaccepting of their truth.
Haynes embraces a stinging aesthetic contradiction: his story is rendered with the tropes of American rebellion – the “us against the world” narrative – but only because, in this case, they are merely consequential of American intolerance. The film's secret language makes for an intoxicating cinematic rhythm, but it’s simultaneously reflective of ugly – and persistent – social mores. This is a work of piercing emotional intelligence and tremendous technical achievement. But it also breathes life, purpose, complexity and modernity into one of the movies’ most enduring genres. Swooningly eternal and bracingly of-the-moment, Carol is the love story of our time.
Haynes embraces a stinging aesthetic contradiction: his story is rendered with the tropes of American rebellion – the “us against the world” narrative – but only because, in this case, they are merely consequential of American intolerance. The film's secret language makes for an intoxicating cinematic rhythm, but it’s simultaneously reflective of ugly – and persistent – social mores. This is a work of piercing emotional intelligence and tremendous technical achievement. But it also breathes life, purpose, complexity and modernity into one of the movies’ most enduring genres. Swooningly eternal and bracingly of-the-moment, Carol is the love story of our time.
Charlie Kaufman is a creator – though of a poetic sensibility as a writer, he’s demonstrated a fondness for encompassing physical construction when working behind the camera. Anomalisa is the latest example: a humanist work of stop-motion animation. Closely tracking one man’s evening away at a conference in Cincinnati, the film is ingeniously realized, from surreal dream sequences to the cacophony of Midwestern manners that echo in each of its corners. And it’s also, again, supremely lifelike – Anomalisa is a grand presentation of the human condition, as few other artists can even try pulling off.
Phoenix percolates with tension like a ghost story, with stories and lives from the past informing its every narrative turn. Christian Petzold’s noir-styled romance takes several cues from late masters of cinema, including Hitchcock (Vertigo) and Truffaut (The Last Metro) – but that hybrid of influence doesn’t weigh the film down. Phoenix toys with homage as a technical flourish, one of the many strategies used to make its thornily brilliant arguments about memory, and how we see the past in our present. Right to his jaw-dropper of a finale, Petzold makes you think by making you feel.
Olivier Assayas’ wordy, confounding Clouds of Sils Maria might seem a little rarefied as its characters aimlessly mull over topics like aging, femininity and the art of performance. But the film manages to qualify its academic sensibility with luscious beauty – its aggressive verbosity is quelled by spellbinding photography and acting. Break through its wall of artificiality, and you’ll spot a determinedly original work of humanity.
Rarely is filmmaking this alive. Sean Baker’s formally experimental foray into the L.A. streets is a beautifully bright and pointedly funny character study, skillfully weaving between buddy comedy, issue drama and break-up fiasco. Centered on a pair of transgender sex workers – played vibrantly by newcomers Mya Taylor and Kitana “Kiki” Rodriguez – Tangerine is at once a thrilling expansion of film’s representational boundaries and a delightfully unusual Christmas classic-in-the-making.
As an effective ode to the grind and dedication of quality journalism, Spotlight is steeped in its time and place. The film depicts the Boston Globe’s investigation into the Catholic Church molestation scandal, and is consistently textured by its rich characterizations and sense of history. Writer-director Tom McCarthy takes a meticulous approach to telling this story – and in doing so, he provides a vital depiction of an American City, plagued by institutional failure but enlivened by its community and its spirit.
Nobody has the studio comedy down quite like Adam McKay. But with The Big Short, the famed Stepbrothers director goes a step further, inventing his own messy, strange and deceptively ingenious genre: the screwball polemic. The Big Short tackles the 2007-08 financial crisis with broad humor and erratic editing, but as its high-octane comedy slides into slow-burn tragedy, the film explodes with daring perspective.
Anna Muylaert reaches something exceptionally honest with The Second Mother. A class-conscious slice-of-life, her film smartly exposes the ripples that take effect within an upper-middle-class family after its maid’s daughter moves in and questions the status quo. Rendered with passion by lead star Regina Casé, The Second Mother builds with uncanny perceptiveness, and is at once intricately inviting and painfully honest.
Nightmarishly relentless and inconceivably pure, Mad Max: Fury Road is the eminent artistic blockbuster. After a decades-long hiatus, George Miller returns to his deserted wasteland with newfound intensity and purpose. He holds you tight in his grip from start to finish, capitalizing on a concise script and John Seale’s remarkable cinematography.
John Crowley’s Brooklyn is an Irish period romance that doesn’t reach too high – but doesn’t limit itself, either. Expertly controlled, Nick Hornby’s script is precise but layered, allowing Crowley the space for subtle, evocative storytelling. The film digs deeper than you expect, sidestepping clichés at every turn. It’s seamlessly executed.
The Best of the Rest
Amy
The devastating biopic of the late Amy Winehouse works perfectly well as a thorough, tragic portrait of a great American artist. But it’s the way Amy so damningly captures the consequences of new media that elevates it to excellence.
The devastating biopic of the late Amy Winehouse works perfectly well as a thorough, tragic portrait of a great American artist. But it’s the way Amy so damningly captures the consequences of new media that elevates it to excellence.
Beasts of No Nation
Exquisite direction and cinematography from Cary Fukunaga – as well as ferocious performances from Idris Elba and newcomer Abraham Attah – turn this procedural account of guerilla warfare into a potent morality play.
Exquisite direction and cinematography from Cary Fukunaga – as well as ferocious performances from Idris Elba and newcomer Abraham Attah – turn this procedural account of guerilla warfare into a potent morality play.
Court
Measured, spare and deceptively cutting, Court is the year’s most auspicious debut film. (Sorry, Son of Saul.) On a broad canvas but with a strikingly personal touch, writer-director Chaitanya Tamhane paints a satirical yet empathetic picture of contemporary Mumbai.
Measured, spare and deceptively cutting, Court is the year’s most auspicious debut film. (Sorry, Son of Saul.) On a broad canvas but with a strikingly personal touch, writer-director Chaitanya Tamhane paints a satirical yet empathetic picture of contemporary Mumbai.
Creed
Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan establish themselves as two of Hollywood’s most impressive and assured new talents. This update of the Rocky franchise is anything but old-hat: full of life and persistently riveting, Creed transcends the formulaic as an exemplary modern blockbuster.
Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan establish themselves as two of Hollywood’s most impressive and assured new talents. This update of the Rocky franchise is anything but old-hat: full of life and persistently riveting, Creed transcends the formulaic as an exemplary modern blockbuster.
The Diary of a Teenage Girl
Marielle Heller reveals herself as a directorial force with The Diary of a Teenage Girl. Starring Bel Powley as a fifteen-year-old coming to terms with her romantic and sexual identities, the film documents her affair with the older man who just happens to be her mother's boyfriend. Set in 1970s San Francisco, it's a first film as imaginative and polished as they come.
I’ll See You in My Dreams
Despite operating within the traditional contours of the low-key indie, Brett Haley eschews the conventional with I’ll See You in My Dreams. Featuring Blythe Danner in a career-defining role, the film provides a freshly authentic take on aging, loneliness and the power of human connection.
Despite operating within the traditional contours of the low-key indie, Brett Haley eschews the conventional with I’ll See You in My Dreams. Featuring Blythe Danner in a career-defining role, the film provides a freshly authentic take on aging, loneliness and the power of human connection.
Inside Out
This magical animated adventure is one of Pixar’s best, in possession of an emotional intelligence far beyond what we see in most “adult” films. By exposing the beauty of sadness, Inside Out makes the sentimental and comical really count.
This magical animated adventure is one of Pixar’s best, in possession of an emotional intelligence far beyond what we see in most “adult” films. By exposing the beauty of sadness, Inside Out makes the sentimental and comical really count.
Love and Mercy
An inventive musical biopic if there ever was one, Bill Pohlad’s exploration of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys doesn’t come fully together, but its ambition is incontestable – and when it works, it sings like nothing else.
An inventive musical biopic if there ever was one, Bill Pohlad’s exploration of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys doesn’t come fully together, but its ambition is incontestable – and when it works, it sings like nothing else.
99 Homes
Ramin Bahrani’s loud, shaky Housing Crisis thriller 99 Homes is brutally effective. The movie pulsates with rage and urgency, and gets right at the heart of the American dream – the home – with unrelenting clarity.
Ramin Bahrani’s loud, shaky Housing Crisis thriller 99 Homes is brutally effective. The movie pulsates with rage and urgency, and gets right at the heart of the American dream – the home – with unrelenting clarity.
Room
Adapted from the eponymous Emma Donoghue novel, Room presents the experience and aftermath of trauma with nuance, and no shortage of depth. In the hands of the powerfully convincing Brie Larson, the film manages to step into the light by making its way through the darkness.