Between now and the Oscars, youâre going to hear a lot about the best movies of the year: Alfonso CuarĂłnâs Roma and the Coen brothersâ The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Ryan Cooglerâs Black Panther and Ari Asterâs Hereditary, Spike Leeâs BlacKkKlansman and Yorgos Lanthimosâ The Favourite, Bob Persichetti and Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothmanâs Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, ChloĂ© Zhaoâs The Rider, Barry Jenkinsâ If Beale Street Could Talk. But when we looked back at 2018, each of the Mercuryâs movie critics decided to highlight just one of our favorite movies of the yearâmovies that might not get as many eyes or accolades as the ones above, but movies that are still very much worth watching and rewatching. Especially as we enter January, a useless garbage month where thereâs literally nothing to do except watch movies.
Annihilation
(dir. Alex Garland, available via iTunes, Amazon, YouTube, Movie Madness)
What is this beautiful, terrifying thing called Annihilation? Is it sci-fi? Horror? Extended metaphor? Okay, fine: Metaphor for what, then? For cancer? Depression? Fuck it, maybe itâs just shimmering, grotesquely gorgeous weirdness for the sake of it, since writer/director Alex Garland certainly isnât interested in making this dread-soaked daymare all that plotty. Like his previous film, Ex Machina, Annihilationâs story only exists to ensnare its charactersâand, once theyâre trapped, to squeeze until the why of them is forced into the air. Will whatever is released explode, or will it wither? It will transform, as we all do, and thereâs something simultaneously comforting and terrifying about that certainty. Those contradictory emotions are intertwined in every aspect of Annihilationâon the faces of its amazing cast (Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tessa Thompson, Oscar Isaac), in the grounded otherworldliness of its visuals, and in a mesmerizing score that presses lilting stringed melodies into cramped spaces filled with blawping electric gutterances. Not many films really examine all the aspects of metamorphosis, physical and psychological, the way Annihilation does. BOBBY ROBERTS
First Reformed
(dir. Paul Schrader, available via Amazon, iTunes, Movie Madness)
First Reformed is about a lot of things. Itâs about blind faith, and inevitable bodily rot, and the unknowable mysteries of life. Itâs about shame and sacrifice and the futility of martyrdom. Itâs about depression and redemption. Itâs about religion as big business, and about living in a capitalist country that treats business as a religion. Itâs about climate change, and whether rich assholes can buy their way into salvation. Itâs about Ethan Hawkeâs jaw-dropping performance as a seriously damaged reverend failing to keep his shit together in the face of Christianityâs hypocrisy. Itâs about writer/director Paul Schraderâs return from the brink of irrelevance with a searing, abyss-gazing script, gorgeously rendered in subdued blues and grays. Itâs about Cedric the Entertainer being billed in the credits as Cedric Kyles, because this movie isnât fucking around. Itâs about what it looks like when you pour Pepto-Bismol into whiskey: an evil, pink-brown apocalypse. Itâs about the actual apocalypse. Itâs about Schraderâs audacious ending, which will infuriate people who donât know how to deal with ambiguity, in art or religion. Itâs about more than these things. Itâs grim, glorious, beautiful, and cruel. NED LANNAMANN
Love, Simon
(dir. Greg Berlanti, available via Amazon, iTunes, Movie Madness)
I started Love, Simon on an airplane, and then became infuriated when the plane landed before I was finished. After a successful second attempt to finish it, I confirmed that I do love Love, Simon. Based on the YA novel by Becky Albertalli, itâs a relatable tale of the anxieties of being a non-heterosexual person in high school and keeping a romance secret from your friends and family. As Simon (Nick Robinson) tries to solve the mystery of his anonymous crush (the two trade emails, but not names), Love, Simon examines the internal struggle of knowing youâre gay but not being ready to announce it to your world, even when you have supportive friends and a family thatâll love you no matter what. (Simonâs sweet but oblivious dad, played by Josh Duhamel, is âan annoyingly handsome quarterback who married the hot valedictorian,â played by Jennifer Garner.) Unlike some seriously depressing films about coming out, Love, Simon is a dramedy thatâs actually funny, and it includes some excellent adult characters, like drama teacher Ms. Albright (Insecureâs Natasha Rothwell) and Vice Principal Worth (Veepâs Tony Hale). A tender, much-needed heart-to-heart between mother and son near Love, Simonâs conclusion caused wetness to leak from my eyes as I shouted, âGoddammit, Jennifer Garner!â at my TV. But it was a good cry. JENNI MOORE
The Sisters Brothers
(dir. Jacques Audiard, home release forthcoming)
If 2018 taught us anything, itâs that nobody knows what the fuck theyâre doing. But amid the deaths of climate change, the stings of tear gas, and the shadows of fascism, one way to stay sane slowly became clear: You do the best you can in an uncaring and chaotic world. You pay attention to the people that you care about the most, and you spend time and energy to make their lives better in the same way they make your life better. You keep going, even when things are awful, and even when things start to look a little bit better for just a second, and even when things get awful again. And sometimes you drink. Based on Patrick DeWittâs novel, The Sisters Brothers stars John C. Reilly and Joaquin Phoenix as Eli and Charlie Sisters, who ride and swig and shoot their way across the West, bickering as they get paid to do terrible things. With each misadventure comes a reminder: This world has always been a goddamn mess, and sometimes a bear attacks your horse. Sometimes you find gold. Sometimes you get tricked. Sometimes people shoot you and sometimes you shoot people. Sometimes you meet a mad scientist. Sometimes you rediscover a place you thought youâd lost, and sometimes you can share that place and that feeling with the people you care about the most. The Sisters Brothers is hilarious and surreal and acidicly sweet, and as Eli and Charlie tumble and stagger through it, they rarely know what the fuck theyâre doingâbut in an uncaring and chaotic world, they do their best. This fine motion picture also includes a scene in which John C. Reilly pukes up hundreds of tiny baby spiders. ERIK HENRIKSEN
Suspiria
(dir. Luca Guadagnino, now playing)
As someone who would pay money to watch Tilda Swinton do just about anything, I have to admit I was predisposed to enjoy Luca Guadagninoâs Suspiria remake, wherein Swinton glides around the Markos Dance Academy with the elegance of a feather carried by some preternatural breeze. But aside from the always-magnetic Swinton, the new Suspiria won my heart for several reasons: The art deco architecture, the stylish costumes, the hypnotic choreography, and the symphonies of gore that take body horror to gorgeous and terrifying new heights. Itâs nothing like Dario Argentoâs 1977 original (and some of the subplots are highly questionable), but Guadagninoâs Suspiria shocked me. Thatâs rare. CIARA DOLAN
You Were Never Really Here
(dir. Lynne Ramsay, available via Amazon, iTunes, Movie Madness)
In my imagination, You Were Never Really Here director Lynne Ramsay is smoking, arguing in a den with other directors and saying something in her Scottish brogue like, âYou canât end a film on a slurp sound? I can end a film on a slurp sound!â You Were Never Really Here is based on a short, fast-paced novel by Jonathan Ames about Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), a man with severe PTSD who wields a hammer as he hunts down pedophiles. Iâm less interested in the subject matter of meting out heinous violence in exchange for heinous crimes (Iâve never been all that Hammurabi) than I am in Ramsayâs visuals and the masterful unfolding of the filmâs score, by Radioheadâs Jonny Greenwood. Winner of Best Screenplay and Best Actor at Cannes, You Were Never Really Here received a standing ovation from the festivalâs audience, and itâs easy to see why. Slurp! SUZETTE SMITH