My Top Ten Movies of 2017

2017 has been on balance a rather grim year out in the real world, ending up on a sad note personally for me. So rather than dwell on that - back into a darkened room I go. Here’s my nobody-gives-a-damn top ten movies list of 2017 (UK releases what I saw - for anyone feeling pedantic).

10: Free Fire: Ben Wheatley’s absurdly funny, loud, brutal, crowd-pleasing 70s shoot-out-a-thon. I like Wheatley when he’s being difficult and obtuse (A Field In England), but I like him even more when he’s letting a deranged Sharlto Copley off the chain in a downtown Boston warehouse (actually Brighton, naturally – where they had to re-assure shoppers next door when the gunfire kicked off), with a couple of IRA nutters and an arsenal large enough to stage a military coup in a South American dictatorship. Barnstorming and hilarious.

9: Blade Runner 2049: Regular readers will be aware of my difficulties with Blade Runner 2049. I’ve seen it three times already and I’m still not sure that I like it. But I am sure that I admire it. Beautiful, thoughtful, precise, elegant filmmaking. Whether Blade Runner 2049 goes on to become a beloved classic (remember Blade Runner was largely considered a failure in its time) is something of which I’m far from certain. But I do feel that we got a movie made by smart, dedicated people who genuinely love and respect the original, and worked extremely hard to preserve the subtlety and mystery present in source, while expanding and taking the story in interesting new directions. It’s probably too long, it’s definitely too slow. But it does nothing to dishonour my all time favourite movie – and for me that alone is little short of miraculous.

8: The Death Of Stalin: It is probably equal parts a measure of the satirical genius of Armando Iannucci and a reflection of the absurd and ghastly political times that we are living through right now, that a true story about the death of a terrible dictator and all the nasty, duplicitous, backstabbing, murdering, cowardly, fearful and near-genocidal activities that swirled around this awful period in history contained more belly laughs than any other movie I saw this year – including Captain Underpants.

7: Paddington 2: …and in such dreary days (not to mention my personally downcast state of mind a few weeks ago) what a wonder that a small animated bear with a marmalade fixation could deliver such a perfectly judged and joyfully received reminder of how we can still find and bring out the best in each other – if that is what we look for. Had me crying by the end with joy and laughter - for the second time running. That’s just rude.

6: Moonlight: Possibly the most remarkable film of the year. A black-cast urban-set deprived-background, drug and dysfunctional family themed, coming of age boy-to-man drama comes with a whole heap of ghettoised stylistic and genre expectations - and Moonlight confounds every single one of them with filmmaking of utterly poetic and elegiac grace and brilliance. Such accomplished, original and tender work from only a second time director is extraordinary in itself. That Naomi Harris filmed her entire superb performance as the drug-addicted mother spanning nearly twenty years in just three days work due to visa restrictions is just one example of the incredible sure-footedness of Barry Jenkins’ direction, and the dedication to honest, deeply-felt storytelling of everyone involved.

5: Raw: Speaking of tough coming-of-age experiences. It’s also pretty tricky being a strict vegetarian teenager developing cannibalistic tendencies after a savage hazing in a veterinarian collage. This French-Belgian drama-horror is wonderfully dark, unsettling, touching, sensual and brutal. With a wry smile just perceptible among the grue.

4: Get Out: Blimey! Part horror, part social-satire, part Stepford-Wives-esque mystery chiller, part unsettling racial drama, part dark comedy - All original and gloriously accomplished entertainment from first-time feature writer / director Jordan Peele. Brilliant and refreshing.

3: The Handmaiden: Three hours of twisty, Korean whodunit, whosdoingit and whoswhodoingittowho period-set psychological drama might sound like it’s going to be hard work. It isn’t. It’s funny, it’s thrilling, it’s gorgeous… and it’s very very very very sexy. What more do you want?

2: Manchester By The Sea: One of the quietest, most understated, almost inertly introvertedly performed dramas I’ve seen. And one that punched me in the gut harder than almost any I can remember.

1: Dunkirk: Christopher Nolan’s habit of making my favourite film of the year is getting almost too predictable by this point. His brilliance with intricate, ingenious, precision-tooled plotting and gargantuan but lovingly honed visual prowess is deployed so seemingly effortlessly and with such regularity that it might become easy to overlook. But here he’s put all that interwoven multi-timeline brilliance, that painterly IMAX palette, that artistic care with massive commercial clout at the service of his most simple, direct and powerfully honest tale yet. Dunkirk dispenses with historic sweep, CliffsNotes audience hand-holding, revisionist political analysis, or indeed even the need for something as seemingly essential to any thrilling war movie – an actual present enemy – to reduce this powerful and honourable tale of one of the most audaciously heroic defeats in military history to one simple, driving, intense and universal experience: The desire to get home.

My Top Ten Movies of 2015

10: Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Truth be told, this may only be in my top ten due to affection and nostalgia. I'm still waiting for J.J. Abrams to direct a film that is truly brilliant in its own right rather than efficiently riffing on his adoration for the movie adventures of his, and my, childhood. Star Wars: The Force Awakens is a perfectly decent caper but one which feels so much more because of the weight of cultural significance that we have invested into this world... and the sense of sheer relief that it's NOT another Phantom Menace. I've always maintained a sneaking admiration for what George was trying to achieve with those prequels: Something operatic, politically rich and mythically grandiose, an ambition mostly undone by his tin ear for dialog, leadenly delivered by poorly directed actors at a loss to find their feet in his CGI imaginarium. This new Star Wars has, so far, less of that epic sweep and scope, and many of its delights are recycled from the originals. But crucially what is does have, in spades, is FUN. Sprightly, seemingly effortless wit and action, delivered by real people, often in real locations, actually interacting with a real environment around them. It's hard to overstate just what a welcome feeling that is. A tribute act compared to the original it may be, but those are still some fine tunes.

9: Sicario.

A phenomenally tense thriller centring around a shady US drug enforcement task force attempting to take out a Mexican cartel, Sicario tackles familiar and often clichéd narrative territory with fresh verve and complex amorality. Featuring a clutch of superb, understated performances (with the marvellous Emily Blunt front and centre) from a principle cast essaying assorted FBI, CIA, special forces and other individuals with even murkier pasts. Many with shifting, hard-to-read agendas. Features possibly the finest stationary car chase in cinema.

8: The Tale Of Princess Kaguya.

With the future of Studio Ghibli in doubt, it's been a particularly painful two year wait for this, possibly their last masterpiece, to make it to these shores. But if it is to be the end, what an end. The very definition of a true fairy tale, this is a slight and gentle story, animated with the most delicate of brush strokes. Pastel watercolour beauty bleeding to white at the edges of the screen as if lifted straight from some museum preserved manuscript of a forgotten time and place. The running time and gentle pace may try the patience of some. But tune out the world and you can lose yourself in its beauty and wish never to return.

7: Bridge Of Spies.

Spielberg, Hanks, The Coen Brothers, a true story (mostly). You know you are in safe hands. Bridge Of Spies is no great revelation, rather it's exactly as expertly crafted as you would expect. It is however, rather wittier than you might imagine. And the brilliantly authored inertness of Mark Rylance's potential agent playing against Hanks' fast-talking, yet noble lawyer (remember those?) is an absolute joy to behold.

6: The Martian.

Ridley Scott's best film in some years. Exciting, funny, and shot through with old-fashioned heroic stoicism as Matt Damon's astronaut is marooned alone on Mars and has to survive on his smarts and his wisecracking soliloquisms. Shot through with a rare uncynical "Yay For Science!" motif. It's as if Castaway had been directed by Carl Sagan. Which is a good thing.

5: The Diary Of A Teenage Girl.

This bravura coming of age tale follows the travails a fifteen year old girl in 1970s San Francisco as she embarks on a sexual relationship with her mother's boyfriend and a heap of other complex, broken family and growing up issues. Bold and honest filmmaking that is nothing like as harsh to watch as you might imagine because it is also empowering, delightful and laugh-out-loud funny, and is visually as full of brio and invention as its creatively imaginative lead character. A refreshing delight.

4: Song Of The Sea.

Tomm Moore's second animated feature (following The Secret Of The Kells) is a beautiful, sweet and heartbreaking piece of Irish folklore fantasy that manages to dig deep into rich and whimsical mythology, while absolutely grounding its emotions in the story of a young girl dealing with real and tragic family drama (rather like Pan's Labyrinth... but with less torture). On top of this, the animation is a gobsmacking mixed-media masterpiece, as if Michel Ocelot, Hayao Miyazaki and Sylvain Chomet had all collaborated on the one movie.

3: Mad Max: Fury Road.

The most full-on, knock you flat, non-stop, crunching, brutal, old-school action movie of the year. Mad Max's first outing in three decades retains all the strange, colourful, insane elements that made the originals so iconic, and (unlike Star Wars) it doesn't feel like it's trying to simply live up to past glories. This one kicks the previous movies (not to mention the whole Fast and Furious franchise) in the face and drags them kicking and screaming though the post-apocalyptic waste in its dust storm wake. Director and creator George Miller is now 70. No, really. No-one else can quite believe it either.

2: Ex Machina.

Alex Garland, long-time writer / collaborator on many of Danny Boyle's movies, graduates magnificently with his directorial debut. A chilling, twisting sci-fi chamber piece set in clinical Kubrickian isolation. Four actors. One house. Humans and machines testing and deceiving each other. Morally murky, powerfully intense and superbly performed.

1: Whiplash.

It may be no more an accurate depiction of life in a prestigious music college than Black Swan was an honest tale of studying in an elite dance academy. What Whiplash is, is a fun, triumphant, indie-spirited maniacal howl of a movie. A study of artistic obsession, abuse of power and the drive to succeed against all odds. It boasts a riotously funny script, genuine heart, freewheeling performances (actorly and musical), and in J. K. Simmons' band leader, a thermonuclear full-leather-jacket onslaught of verbal abuse that is hilarious and terrifying in equal measure(s). Quite my tempo.

The Boxtrolls (2014)

A lovely grimy, grungy, stop-motion Grimms' Fairy Tale sort of a movie, with a surprising amount to say about greed, class, privilege and corruption, and clueless toffee-noised oiks at the top of the chain munching on brie and fucking the poor (not literally). In a kids movie. Had this been released a week or two earlier in the UK, the Scottish independence vote might have gone quite differently.

Rating: 4/5

Nausicaa Of The Valley Of The Wind (Kaze no tani no Naushika) (1984)

Take one from anime legend Hayao Miyazaki in laying out his trademark spiritual fantasies and captivating ecological fables. Nausicaa has plenty of charm and a beautiful design to delight the senses. However it does feel somewhat a dry run for higher achievements to come. Thematically he covered the same ground again, with greater richness and depth in Princess Mononoke. The ideas are here, and, it must be commended, were somewhat ahead of the game, cropping up again and again in later western films such as Ferngully and Avatar, as well as much of Miyazaki's subsequent work. However the storytelling and character development is clunky. Heroes are po-faced and humourless, and even though the plot is simple, I frequently had to remind myself who was doing what to who and why, as motivations are not well defined. Worth seeking out, especially for fans of studio Ghibli. But not quite the early masterpiece sometimes claimed.

Rating: 3/5

Frankenweenie (2012)

Tim Burton resurrects his pet project

In 1984, Tim Burton, a young animator / director working at Disney, made a thirty minute short about a boy who brings his dead dog back to life. His employers took one look at his mutant creation and promptly showed him the door.

Nearly thirty years on, and "Disney Presents" his feature length stop-motion reworking of that nascent project, and, after the wobbles of Alice In Wonderland and Dark Shadows, it's the most charmingly Burtonesque feature he's made in some time. Featuring all the hallmarks of his instantly recognisable style (crazy angles, spindly-legged bug-eyed protagonists, chiaroscuro lighting, all set against a fat-bottomed, shock-haired variant of 50s suburban Americana) writ large in animated form, but at the service of a simple, sweet-natured slice of gothic fantasy.

An amiable riff on the classic Frankenstein tale, the story of young Victor and his re-animated beloved pet doesn't really offer much meat to put on the bones of his short story. But it does deliver a sympathetic portrait of childhood out of whack with the mainstream and all the healthier for it (no doubt somewhat autobiographical, in feel at least if not in the corpse-meddling details). There's plenty of fun to be had soaking up the loving homages to the likes of Universal Studios 1930s back-catalogue, a classroom full of Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney lookalike kids chief among them, leading to a small-scale monster mash that takes much the same route as Wallace & Grommit's Curse Of The Were-Rabbit, and to similar grin-inducing effect. Ghoulish fun.

Rating: 3/5

A Town Called Panic (Panique au village) (2009)

A manic, ADHD suffering, surreal, stop-motion masterpiece, delivered by the team behind the Cravendale Milk ads... from Belgium.

A horse, a cowboy and a red-Indian live together, argue over the shower, order a bazillion bricks, get stuck in traffic, stake out their own walls, do battle with underwater aliens, get abducted by a snowball throwing mega-penguin, and play cards while falling to the centre of the earth. Then things get really strange.

Apparently animated using a tub of plastic toys by a bunch of Ritalin dodging five-year-olds on a Sunny-D bender, A Town Called Panic is not the most coherent of films, but it is brilliantly inventive and frequently ball-achingly funny.

Rating: 4/5

The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (2011)

As his first full animation, Tintin may appear to be something of a new departure for Spielberg, but in every other respect, what we have here is a familiar and vintage caper that demonstrates just how easily the Bergster can knock this stuff off in his sleep these days.

The unavoidable comparison that springs immediately to mind is with his Indiana Jones movies: The period setting (not exactly specified, but easily 30s / 40s in feel) bathed in a nostalgic glow,  a globetrotting adventure in search of some lost treasure, voyages by tramp steamer or bi-plane, even a chase through some north-African market streets. Just a quiff instead of a fedora, and the formula is all in place. Now it's fair enough to point out that Raiders and its sequels were hugely inspired by an older generation of serial comic book adventures from the 40s and 50s in which Tintin rightly holds an esteemed place, but seen from a modern filmic perspective, there is a strong sense that we've seen this done before, and in at least some respects, better.

First, the good stuff. Tintin is beautifully animated, in a manner which is rich and detailed, but also retains a touch of period comic-book style which never draws attention but feels just right for this world. There are many stunningly visualised edits between locations, or shifts in time from story to storyteller, that match the very best that Spielberg has ever delivered in his live action movies. There are also several bravura action sequences, all of which are executed with wit and perfect pacing and never feel forced or out of place, and usually come with some charming touches of humour. While some of the broader slapstick moments fall somewhat flat (no pun etc.), just keep watching that dog, often in the corner of the frame away from the main action for some of the most gentle moments of incidental pleasure that the movie has to offer.

However, for me, there's no getting away from the most glaring problem with Tintin, and that's Tintin, the personality vacuum at the centre of the whole enterprise. Utterly devoid of any notable or involving character traits, he functions purely as a nominal protagonist around whom a plot can revolve, but never to whom our empathy may adhere. And speaking of plot, therein lies the secondary failing of Tintin (which sounds like a title for a sequel if ever I heard one). Many adventure stories may rely heavily on a MacGuffin to drive them along, but in the best examples (and again, there's no getting away from the Dr. Jones comparisons here, and all of them unfavourable to the cherub-faced reporter), this is merely a plot device to lead our hero to some greater and more profound end (reconciliation, enlightenment, the saving of a life, or the world, or a little piece of home), but in Tintin the MacGuffin is the whole plot, and so, having been kept pleasantly charmed, if not totally thrilled along the way, I arrived rather unexpectedly at the end, with things much as they were at the beginning.

Beautiful to look at, charming to watch, easy to forget.

Rating: 3/5

Paprika (Papurika) (2006)

A trio of scientists are working on the psychiatric possibilities offered by a remarkable new device that can record patients dreams. When the device is stolen their own subconscious minds begin to be invaded and hijacked by an unknown assailant and the boundaries of reality and imagination start to blur. With the help of the mysterious alter-ego Paprika, and a police detective who is himself a patient, the team try to infiltrate this unconscious world to track down the missing machine and the person controlling it.

While Miyazaki may have the lions' share of international recognition for his masterful Japanese animation; in the west, science-fiction anime is for the most part still the reserve of a particularly geekish brand of teenage boys. Twenty-odd years on, Akira still dominates this violent and neon-lit landscape and a tendency to  excess has marred much of what came after and disguised the fact that genuinely brilliant and original work has been quietly going on.

Director Satoshi Kon, whose career was tragically cut short by cancer earlier this year has been responsible for several vibrant, feverish slabs of dark but mature storytelling since his minor breakout hit debut Perfect Blue in 1998. Paprika was only his fourth feature as director and sadly will now probably be his last (there is an unfinished fifth currently in limbo), but he's left behind a stunning piece of work. Spritely creative; at times madcap and surreal, with armies of dream monster toys crashing through the walls of reality, time stopping, physics distorting, characters running through alternate films playing in their own mind. It's a bit of a head rush in parts, but still takes the time to establish meaningful characters with complex motivations.

Sci-Fi stories of dreams and subconscious have of course been around for years, and in the concepts and visual ideas present here, one can detect hints of Strange Days, Brainstorm and Blade Runner. But Paprika takes these several steps further and creates a dizzying sense of multi-layered reality. Its most recognisable aspects are those that it has itself gone on to influence, because if any film might hold a candle to the creative invention on show here, it's Inception, and director Christopher Nolan has made no secret of the dept he owes to this obvious forbear.

Compared to the clockwork precision engineering of Nolan's masterwork, Paprika is a touch freewheeling and can occasionally loose the viewer during some bizarre left turns. Plus some dialogue comes across a little awkwardly, although this might just be an issue of the subtitle translation. But these are very minor quibbles. This is grown-up animation of dazzling invention and well worth seeking out.

Rating: 4/5