2020 marked the year when movie theaters shut down. While the majority of movie theaters opened up during the summer of 2021, many blockbusters and indies flocked to streaming services. The age of streaming is here to stay. Be that as it may, the art of cinema remains, by virtue of new and returning filmmakers who have something to say. Regardless of how we watch movies, a film’s true value should be determined by its quality. A lot of time and effort goes into making a film, at least that’s usually the case. I’m not here to discuss the failures and disappointments of cinema I’ve witnessed in 2021 (although there are many). I’m here to discuss the most notable 2021 films that left a lasting impression on me. Although I must admit that I haven’t seen everything. Nevertheless, below is my list of the ten best films of 2021.
10. The Night House
Director: David Bruckner
Writer: Ben Collins, Luke Piotrowski
David Bruckner has always been comfortable with horror. His past works included “The Signal” and “The Ritual.” “The Night House” is his most accomplished work to date. Starring a doleful, fuming Rebecca Hall in a deliciously warped mystery, “The Night House” is a disquieting experience.
Beth (Rebecca Hall) is now a widow after her husband (Evan Jonigkeit) committed suicide. That alone is traumatic, but not having any answers makes the dour situation worse. Beth is struggling to live, let alone function. She loses her grip on time and experiences disturbing dreams. She tries to take her mind off her husband by going back to work where she’s employed as a teacher. However, her attempts for normalcy are rather fruitless when she suspects a supernatural presence has infiltrated her home. As Beth discovers more secrets about her husband, she begins to think if she was in love with somebody she didn’t know at all. She questions his sanity, while simultaneously questioning hers.
“The Night House” is a horror movie about grief. It’s a known fact that we grieve our own way on our own time. For Beth, the grieving process compels her to probe the reasoning behind her’s husband’s decision to end his life. There’s a palpable aura of mystery established by her husband and his many secrets. But is Beth losing her grip on reality due to lack of sleep? Is she imagining things that aren’t there? Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski write a captivating screenplay that leaves room for interpretation. Welsh mythology is thrown in to further distort Beth’s perception of her husband. Beth’s unreliable perspective remains at the forefront, which keeps viewers guessing what’s real and what’s a figment of her imagination. In regard to horror imagery, DOP Elisha Christian plays with optical illusions, utilizing doors and objects to give off the impression that there’s an ill-defined figure in the distance.
Rebecca Hall superbly captures the panic and desperation of a despondent widow dealing with the unthinkable. Technical craft aside, Hall’s performance upholds the momentum, even as Bruckner divulges secret after secret, overwhelming not only Beth but viewers as well. All in all, “The Night House” is a riveting and equivocal psychological horror film that lingers, much like the destructive paths of curiosity and obsession, both of which consume Beth. There’s nothing scarier than losing one’s mind or thinking the absolute worst of someone you love.
Where to watch: Available to rent on VOD
9. The Lost Daughter
Director: Maggie Gyllenhaal
Writer: Maggie Gyllenhaal
There are many joys of motherhood. There’s also an unpleasant side to motherhood. Sometimes the ugliness outweighs the joy, and a mother is left re-evaluating her strength as a mother. In Maggie Gyllenhaal’s outstanding directorial debut, “The Lost Daughter,” a gripping Olivia Colman plays Leda, a woman alone on a seaside vacation who quickly becomes intrigued with a young mother (Dakota Johnson) and her daughter. As Leda watches the mother from afar, she is plagued by her own memories of early motherhood. A younger Leda, played by a marvelous Jessie Buckley, is seen struggling to care for her children.
Gyllenhaal allows the film to unfold slowly as if to give Leda the time to work through her obsession or succumb to it completely. In all honesty, not much happens in terms of plot. Even so, the film speaks to the difficulty of motherhood. Motherhood doesn’t always come naturally.
“The Lost Daughter” is a genuine character study of a mother who left her children for a few years and felt like a great burden has been lifted from her shoulders. A younger Leda is seen being quite harsh with her daughters, lashing out at them and dismissing them. But she’s also seen as being a caring and helpful mother. Leda is not a vile person, but she can’t be fully forgiven either. “The Lost Daughter” is a daring and breathtakingly raw depiction of motherhood that benefits from having an authentically sepulchral tone, unfeigned performances, and an open-ended conclusion.
Where to watch: Netflix
8. The Green Knight
Director: David Lowery
Writer: David Lowery
David Lowery is one of my favorite filmmakers. He made his solo feature debut in 2009 with “St. Nick.” In 2013, he directed “Ain’t Them Bodies Saints,” an understated crime romance starring Rooney Mara and Casey Affleck. In 2016, however, Lowery was given a Disney gig to direct “Pete’s Dragon,” a complete 180 of what he was doing previously, but he succeeded in making a pleasant kids movie nonetheless. In 2017, he directed “A Ghost Story,” my favorite film of 2017. Regardless of their genre, his films co-exist together. His recent medieval fantasy, “The Green Knight,” while mystical and grand, inherits the sedate pacing and tone of a Lowery project.
Adapted from the 14th-century poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the film follows Gawain (Dev Patel), a nephew of King Arthur. Gawain’s life is devoid of excitement. However, Gawain experiences some much-needed excitement when King Arthur asks Gawain to sit with him at a feast. Moments later, the formidable Green Knight—a half-man, half-tree figure—interrupts the grand Christmas feast. The Green Knight demands that King Arthur select his own knight for a Christmas quest. Gawain believes this is his chance to prove his valor, so he accepts the challenge. Gawain holds back from fulfilling his quest for nearly a year, mainly because he enjoys the laud and attention he’s getting from townsfolk, or maybe he’s terrified of what will become of him. But he’s reminded by his uncle that he must see the trek through. Gawain leaves on horseback for the Green Chapel, the institution where the Green Knight resides. He takes with him a green ax and a green girdle, anxious to meet his fate.
“The Green Knight” is a fantastical journey with a talking fox, a roaming spirit, and a cryptic man played charmingly by Joel Edgerton. Lowery’s latest has the elements and appearance of a classic Arthurian fable. Andrew Droz Palermo’s cinematography is absolutely gorgeous. The wide shots of the sprawling landscapes and the vivid skies are strikingly calm and beautiful. At the same time, Palermo emphasizes Gawain’s hero’s journey with close-ups. Throughout, the inevitability of death and the satisfaction of honor slowly creep up on Gawain as he makes his way to the Green Chapel. He perceives the escapade as honorable, but is he an honorable man? If not, will he become an honorable man once he fulfills his duty? While the supporting cast shines, Dev Patel is the standout as the lead. He’s haughty and charismatic, brave and cowardly, making him a complex protagonist who’s seeking greatness while simultaneously running away from it, be it consciously or subconsciously. “The Green Knight” somewhat struggles to retain intrigue. The second half drags on a bit with little narrative verve. That being said, the final flashforward sequence reinvigorates the film. “The Green Knight” is a peculiar, inventive, and harrowing medieval fantasy that won me over in the end.
Where to watch: Available to rent on VOD
7. The Power of the Dog
Director: Jane Campion
Writer: Jane Campion
Masculinity is a customary aspect of the western genre. With “The Power of the Dog,” Jane Campion (“An Angel at My Table” & “The Piano”) subverts expectations of how a typical Western—one fueled by revenge, crippled masculinity, and piercing leers—ends up transpiring.
The year is 1925. Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) and George Burbank (Jesse Plemons) own and manage a ranch in Montana. Despite being brothers, they could not be any more different. Phil is assertive and virulent, while George is more composed and softhearted. After meeting Rose Gordon (Kirsten Dunst), a soft-spoken widow, George is instantly taken with her. Phil is less impressed by Rose and mocks Rose’s son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee) for his unmanly behavior. George and Rose soon marry, much to the dismay of Phil, who believes Rose is after George’s money. Phil does whatever he can to intimidate Rose and Peter. But the unexpected happens when Phil and Peter begin to bond.
The rivalry between Phil and Rose is modestly intense, unfolding in guileful acts of belittlement. Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a masterful performance as a hostile rancher who preaches about masculinity, but who is afraid to look at himself too closely. Kodi Smit-McPhee is eerily humble and surprisingly sinister. “The Power of the Dog” is a profound, visually splendid, and beautifully acted anti-western that’s just as deadly as any other western, although just not as bloodthirsty and brash. The payoff is shocking, even more so because of the subtlety of the reveal and the aftermath.
Where to watch: Netflix
6. Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time
Director: Lili Horvát
Writer: Lili Horvát
In the moody psychological mystery that is Lili Horvát’s “Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time,” there’s sly melodrama galore. Horvát examines unrequited love and the perils of obsession in an appropriately ambiguous fashion.
Marta (Natasa Stork) is a neurosurgeon who returns to Budapest after spending decades in the United States. Marta seems to know for a fact that János (Viktor Bodó), whom she met while at a medical conference, agreed to meet up in Hungary for another tryst. But he never shows. When she tracks him down, he claims not to know who she is. Marta is forced to explore the stability of her romantic obsession and her mind.
Marta is an intelligent and self-willed neurosurgeon who perceives her romantic obsession as one potentially fueled by an underlying brain disorder. For her, that may be better than being rejected by a lover. Horvát focuses on the cerebral aspect of how love is perceived, which makes for a compelling character study that’s open to interpretation. While the pacing is deliberately measured, Natasa Stork has so much poise as Marta, portraying her as self-reliant and frustrated to the point of denial. The title alone promises something more monumental than what you actually get. But for those determined to unravel the complications of love and reality, Horvát’s subdued, spellbinding romance delivers on stimulating discourse.
Where to watch: Available to rent on VOD
5. Shiva Baby
Director: Emma Seligman
Writer: Emma Seligman
Emma Seligman’s clever, scathing feature debut is the funniest movie of the year. Seligman makes use of the awkwardness of coincidence and love, as well as the impossible standards put forth by family and friends.
Danielle (Rachel Sennott) is a college student who makes extra money maintaining an arrangement with a sugar daddy named Max (Danny Deferrari). After an appointment between her and Max, she listens to a voice-mail from her mother (Polly Draper) reminding her of a funeral later that day. Danielle goes to the funeral with her parents. In true sitcom fashion, Danielle runs into her ex-girlfriend Maya (Molly Gordon) and her sugar daddy Max at the funeral. Initially, the biggest shock for Danielle was discovering that Max knew her father. But she was not prepared to find out he has a wife (Dianna Agron) and a baby. Throughout, Danielle tries to dodge prying family members who want to know more about her love life, her chosen major, and her eating habits (because she’s so skinny!). At the same time, Danielle wants to avoid interacting with Max and Maya.
“Shiva Baby” relies on awkward family dynamics. Rachel Sennott’s enjoyably twitchy, splenetic performance powerfully conveys Danielle’s stifled anger and embarrassment she tries desperately to conceal. Seligman’s frantic direction, Ariel Marx’s cacophonous string-centric score, and Sennott’s taut body language help reinforce a claustrophobic atmosphere that’s reminiscent of a horror movie. Spanning 78 minutes, “Shiva Baby” doesn’t overstay its welcome. Seligman’s uneasily comedic drama is overflowing with purposeful cringe. The last scene, in particular, is comedy gold.
Where to watch: HBO Max, VOD
4. Nine Days
Director: Edson Oda
Writer: Edson Oda
Sometimes the concept of a film is unusual in and of itself. With “Nine Days,” Edson Oda’s feature debut explores the beforelife. For a low-budget sci-fi drama, “Nine Days” understands what humans take for granted: the ability to feel and react.
The film follows a group of unborn human souls who are going through the involved process to be rewarded with life. The gruff and uptight protagonist, Will (Winston Duke), is responsible for vetting candidates. Stationed in a quaint home amid a desert, Will monitors a wall of box TV consoles where he records the world as seen through the eyes of his chosen subjects. If one of his subjects dies, which occurs early in the film, he must interview potential candidates over the course of nine days and reward one of them with life. The new candidates include Emma (Zazie Beetz), Alexander (Tony Hale), Mike (David Rysdahl), Kane (Bill Skarsgard), and Maria (Arianna Ortiz). Will tries to pick the best candidate by giving psychological assessments. Will is joined by Kyo (Benedict Wong), a celestial assistant. Meanwhile, Will questions the abrupt death of his chosen subject, sending him into an existential spiral.
“Nine Days” has an absurd premise that could have easily gone off the rails in the hands of another filmmaker. With restrained direction and an ethically rich script, Oda develops an existential warmth that contrasts well with Will’s reluctance to feel alive again. Despite not being a candidate, Will remains the most fascinating subject to observe. Will once lived, except he has forgotten what it felt like to be alive, or he would rather not remember. “Nine Days” is an existential drama that underscores the importance of embracing the sensations of simply being alive. Thanks to Winston Duke’s wonderfully flinty and emotionally intricate performance, the final scene hits all the right emotional notes.
Where to watch: Available to rent on VOD.
3. Titane
Director: Julia Ducournau
Writer: Julia Ducournau
It’s best to forget everything you think you know about Julia Ducournau’s “Titane,” her fierce and grisly follow-up to the cannibal coming-of-age film “Raw.” I’m speaking to anyone who has yet to witness the unbounded hysteria of Ducournau’s high-powered, gender-distorting, genre-meshing concoction and have only heard about a character having sex with a car (although that does happen).
For a film with a fair amount of shock value, “Titane” is quite moving in addition to being brazenly twisted. Erotic dancer Alexia (Agathe Rousselle) is a woman who, after being injured in a car accident as a child, has a titanium plate in her head. She’s now employed as a showgirl at a motor show. Multiple acts of violence put her on the police’s radar. Now on the run, Alexia alters her appearance to pretend to be a young boy who had disappeared and has returned years later. She goes home with the boy’s father, a dejected firefighter named Vincent (Vincent Lindon), who says he knows that deep down, she’s his son who vanished at age seven. A pregnant Alexia goes along with the lie.
Regardless of how messy the film can be, it’s clear that Ducournau is more concerned about the characterization of Alexia and Vincent, and what their nascent relationship conveys about gender identity and grief. “Titane” is stirring, hypnotic, and tonally erratic, yet the chaos is contained. Some images from the movie will never leave me, either because the moment was so disturbing or the moment was unexpectedly poignant. Agathe Rousselle has very few lines in the movie as a psychopathic serial killer who exploits a grieving father, and yet her performance is multilayered and unforgettable. Our perception of Alexia constantly wavers as she finds herself drawn into a false reality built on dependency and sorrow. There’s nothing quite like “Titane,” a gruesome body horror film that also serves as a heady examination of gender.
Where to watch: Available to rent on VOD.
2. Pig
Director: Michael Sarnoski
Writer: Michael Sarnoski, Vanessa Block
“Pig” is one of the most strange and powerful films of the year. What originally appears to be a John Wick copycat revenge flick turns out to be another beast entirely. “Pig” is about grief and acceptance. While these are common themes in movies and shows, Sarnoski’s version of grief plays out in an unpredictable sequence of events, which are only enlivened by Nicolas Cage’s low-key performance.
Rob (Cage) lives alone in a cabin in the forests of Oregon with his beloved pig. With his pig, Rob hunts for truffles and sells them to a young man named Amir (Alex Wolff), who is trying to conduct a truffle business of his own. One night, Rob’s pig is stolen. The next day, Rob enlists Amir’s help to retrieve the pig if he wants their partnership to continue. The whereabouts of his pig lead them to Portland, where Rob interacts with faces from the past. As it turns out, Rob’s a renowned chef who left the cooking scene after his wife’s death.
In “Pig,” Cage takes on a more reserved character playing Rob, a grieving chef who keeps his emotions locked up. Cage is given limited dialogue. Yet, coupled with his disheveled appearance, Cage’s softened tone alludes to an importunate pain that can be traced back to grief. The pig is there to distract Rob from accepting his wife’s death. The pig is the culmination of all the love and devotion he has left to give, which is made known through Rob’s treatment of his pig. Rob was a masterful chef, and he’s still capable of making a delectable meal. Howbeit, grief can alter our lives in more ways than one. Grief can isolate us from family and friends. It can also discourage someone from obtaining joy from their hobbies and passions. Playing opposite to Cage is an excellent Alex Wolff, who perfectly embodies a caustic and sympathetic young entrepreneur trying to distance himself from his father’s lofty shadow. Cage and Wolff have good chemistry, and their clashing dispositions render their conversations more endearing and revealing. Rob is withdrawn and unkempt, whereas Amir is stylish and assertive without actually being overly confident. Rob and Amir are both dealing with grief and pain. Michael Sarnoski quietly delves into that pain and does so in a truthful manner. “Pig” is the most memorable film of 2021. The Nicolas Cage performance viewers see here is not imbued with embellished, overt rage. Cage branches out to show his range as an actor. I’m thankful that this movie, and this performance, exists.
Where to watch: Hulu, VOD
1. About Endlessness
Director: Roy Andersson
Writer: Roy Andersson
Swedish auteur Roy Andersson has an absurdist filmmaking style, wherein a static camera captures characters in everyday situations. From “Songs from the Second Floor” to “A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence,” Andersson’s films capitalize on the absurdity, monotony, horror, heartache, and beauty of existence. “About Endlessness” is a more placid and personal addition to Andersson’s collection of existential works. For 76-minutes, a series of vignettes transpire in no particular order. Some vignettes are imbued with internal or external agony. Other vignettes are emanating elation or hinting at catharsis. In one scene, a couple is floating above a city. In another scene, a man recalls the time he ran into an old classmate and felt embarrassed. In several scenes, a priest is questioning his faith.
“About Endlessness” has all of the hallmarks of an Andersson film. There are evocative, minimalistic sets, tints of grey, and static camerawork, all of which align with his signature style. The film’s quiet, contemplative, tragic, and uncomfortably funny in parts. “About Endlessness” is unpredictable and naturalistic in that the characters are observed in a moment of time, reacting passively or emphatically to a strenuous situation, or to one of lesser severity. Leave it to Andersson to mock the cruelty and absurdity of life.
There’s so much to admire about Roy Andersson as a filmmaker. He refuses to deviate from his style ever so slightly to cater to anyone unwilling to tolerate his meticulously designed explorations of humanity. While my list is mostly compiled of films from newer filmmakers, the best film of 2021 comes from a filmmaker whose style has yet to age — and whose vision is worth cherishing and analyzing for many years to come.
Where to watch: Hulu, VOD
Andrew Reviews 