Ah, the Top 10 list. The yearly tradition among critics, industry professionals, and cinephiles the world over that allows us to take stock of the last year in film and single out the ten pictures we most loved. Or, at least, that's my criteria. It's likely different for everyone and most writers I know (including this one) spend too much time agonizing over their final choices, falling prey to last-minute swaps and the temptation to seem smarter, more cultured. It's a silly thing to do for a piece of writing that ultimately has little to no importance in the scheme of things. After all, what is the best film? How would one even measure such a thing? It's so subjective. Cinema is so wide and varied and wonderful. Who is anybody to look at an entire year's worth of creation and say, "Yes, that's it. That's the best one"?
How could I make a list of the best films of the year that doesn't have such impeccably crafted and technically excellent films as Sicario and Steve Jobs? How could Todd Haynes' stunning and evocative love story Carol fail to make the list? I mean have you seen that movie? It's flawless! What about the seductive decadence of Crimson Peak, the unrelenting dread of Goodnight Mommy, the droning insanity of Queen of Earth, or the big beating heart of Brooklyn? And how does one ignore the engulfing experience of seeing a new Star Wars film on the big screen again? I don't know. Those movies, and many more (Room, Tokyo Tribe, The End of the Tour, The Look of Silence among them), have a place in any discussion of 2015's best. All I can offer as an answer, as a guide to my "best of" list, is that the ten films below are the ones that pushed and pulled me the most. The ones that prodded at some emotion or concept, that challenged or fulfilled me in some significant way. I have no idea what the best movie of 2015 is, but I know what my favorites are, and you can check them out below.
(Note: As you can probably guess from that intro, I think ranking films is an insane and futile effort. Comparing Spotlight to Mad Max: Fury Road is ridiculous. But the internet loves ranked stuff, so there's numbers next to these titles. It doesn't mean much. In truth, I love all the Top 6 equally. Picture the numbers as dancing monkeys for all I care. The point is that movies -- these movies in particular -- are fantastic, wonderful things. Let's celebrate them, shall we?)
10. The Big Short
Adam McKay's first foray into dramatic filmmaking is a wild, raucous success. You wouldn't expect the writer-director behind Anchorman and Step Brothers to deliver one of the shrewdest cultural critiques of the year, but so he has, and he's done so without losing the humor and energy that make his comedies such a blast. It's not entirely surprising, Anchorman and The Other Guys were quietly laced with subversive subtext, but with The Big Short, McKay has reversed his laughs-ahead-of-commentary formula for the best film of his career.
Make no mistake, though, The Big Short is still hilarious. McKay's honed comedic timing is his ace in the hole here, making convoluted and confusing nature of Wall Street economics accessible, and most impressively, not boring. As he has in his comedic work before, McKay puts all his faith in his stellar cast, led by heavy hitters Christian Bale, Brad Pitt, Ryan Gosling, and Steve Carell in the standout role. As Mark Baum, a short-fused loud mouth with a conscience, Carell is the voice of our collective outrage and disgust at the economic masquerade that crippled America.
While all that heartbreak and fury is packed into the film, McKay also wants to teach you something. He wants to call the greedy banks out on their gibberish and convolution, and help the everyman audience member learn a line of defense. But McKay understands that to do so, he has to entertain first, and boy does he, with a sharp script, rapid-fire editing, and some of the best fourth wall-breaking gags in recent memory. The result is incisive, informative filmmaking; a vital, machismo-soaked piece of America that has you smiling and cringing all the way through.
9. The Martian
Ridley Scott has given us a few brilliant, seminal science fiction films over the years, but he's never delivered anything so wonderfully human before. In part, The Martian may be an inter-planetary adventure, but it's primarily the grounded story of a single man's survival, told with warmth and affection. That man is Mark Watney, astronaut, botanist, and all-around likable guy who is left for dead on Mars after a freak accident separates him from his crew. Against all odds, Watney has to find a way to make Mars his home and survive until the cavalry comes.
As Watney, Matt Damon gives the kind of performance that reminds you why he's a movie star. He's funny, charming as hell, and capable of expressing a lot with a little. He also has to carry about half of the movie on his shoulders -- though Dariusz Wolski's gorgeous cinematography and Drew Goddard's cheeky adaptation of Andy Weir's even cheekier novel do a lot to help carry the one-man show segments. And it must be said that The Martian, as a whole, is not a one-man show (though I understand the lure of marketing it as such). This isn't just about Watney, but about the people who rally behind him and do everything in their power to save him. It's about how these kinds of extraordinary circumstances remind us to let go of the minutiae and band together.
It's also just damn thrilling filmmaking, and an unfortunate rarity in a number of ways. It gives us a leading man worth rooting for, an unfailing doer who works the problem and never drowns in his sorrows. The Martian is also a big budget, A-list, original concept, non-franchise sci-fi for adults that wears its big high school crush on science right on its sleeve. What's not to love?
8. The Hateful Eight
Quentin Tarantino makes movies for people who love movies, and his latest trick is reintroducing the theater-going element to that equation. If you have the opportunity, seeing The Hateful Eight in the 70mm roadshow format is a movie-going experience you actually experience. A reminder of the value of staging -- and hoo boy, The Hateful Eight is all about staging. From the moment the interlude kicks off, you enter this hateful post-war world of racist, foul-mouthed murderers and their bloody, bloody exploits.
The film shares a lot of roots with The Thing -- a leading actor; a snowy, isolated setting; even some of Ennio Morricone's unused score for the John Carpenter classic. But the biggest commonality is the creeping unease and distrust that spreads through the eight, each of them keeping their guns as eagerly trained on one another as their glances. This is the first act of the film, a slow sloooow burn escalation that engenders white-knuckle tension and rampant paranoia. Then Tarantino rips the band-aid off a moment before the intermission, and what follows is a fucking gnarly bloodbath of goddamn epic proportions. I consider myself a pretty genre-hardened individual, but the final act of The Hateful Eight is hardcore shit. Tarantino is gleefully drenching his set in buckets of blood as every character's self-serving scheme falls to sanguinary ruin.
For me, it's the first half of the film that seals it as one of the year's best. That slow-ratcheting tension, the interplay between Samuel L. Jackson and Kurt Russell, and the process of bringing all these hateful fuckers (and poor O.B.) into the same arena is sublime cinema. Once the film starts sending reveals and bullets flying around all crazy like, it looses a little of its magic, but Tarantino's reliable panache keeps the whole thing on the tracks. Standout performances from Walton Goggins and Jennifer Jason Leigh (though, honestly, the whole cast is on fire) and an historical score from Morricone level-up the proceedings even further. The Hateful Eight is an insane stage play made more powerful by Tarantino's virtuoso understanding of cinema, and it's one of the finest films of his career.
7. Creed
Rocky was never my Stallone of choice. Don't get me wrong, I like the films, but in a household that ensured I grew up with plenty of Sylvester Stallone, I was always more of a Rambo girl. So imagine my surprise when, halfway through Ryan Coogler's triumphant series resurrection, Creed, tears welled up in my eyes as stepped in on the speed bag next to his new apprentice, Adonis Creed.
The son of Rocky's opponent-turned-friend Apollo Creed, Adonis is Coogler's clever spin on the rags-to-riches story. Born out of an affair, Adonis flounders in the foster system until Apollo's widow Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad) adopts him into the lap of luxury, leaving him fighting to earn the name of a father he never knew. When that leads him to Rocky's doorstep, we find our old champ weatherworn, alone and fighting for something to fight for – and when life throws him a tough opponent in the form of a hard-hitting diagnosis, we see Rocky locked in the most vulnerable, human fight of his long cinematic life.
It's that long life that makes Creed one of the most compelling and successful entries in the franchise. Each Rocky film is a product of its time; an anthropological relic of sorts. Coogler managed to create a film that is absolutely at home in that long-running legacy but is also something new and modern. It's a better sequel than any seventh entry has the right to be, but it also stands on its own as an inspirational underdog story with so much heart that the climactic third-act boxing match will have you crying the manliest tears of your life.
6. The Final Girls
To put it bluntly, weepy movies aren't my thing. I don't do kids with cancer. I don't do ailing spouses and mental illness and degenerative disease. Outside of the films I have to watch for this awesome job, if I see an Oscar-bait sob story, that's a hard pass for me. But sometimes something sneaks past the radar to deliver an intensely cathartic emotional experience without being on the nose or overtly manipulative. Enter, The Final Girls, Todd Strauss-Schulson's genuinely emotional film hiding under the costume of horror comedy...which is about the only way I would ever willingly watch a movie this touchy-feely.
The crazy clever script from M.A. Fortin and Joshua John Miller follows Taissa Farmiga's Max, the daughter of a '80s scream queen (Malin Ackerman) grieving her mother's untimely death. At a screening of her mom's cult classic slasher "Camp Bloodbath", Max and her friends are transported into the film where they have to use their genre savvy to survive. Each "real world" character is treated with respect and compassion, all of them more intricate and interesting than the archetypal roles they fill. Along the way, Max bonds with her mother's character, Nancy, originally one of the film's early deaths, who Max fights to keep alive.
The film is an absolute delight for fans of the genre, spinning conventions and sending up tropes left and right with hilarious results, but it's the surprising throughline of sweetness that makes The Final Girls so special. It is a touching mother-daughter story wrapped in the shroud of a meta-slasher comedy. Come for the genre commentary and gore gags; stay for the earnest, heart-rending exploration of love and grief.
5. Tangerine
An iPhone-shot film following two trans prostitutes through the streets of L.A. sounds like it could be my nightmare gimmick. It's not. Sean Baker's little warpath drama is the goods. Tangerine follows Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and her best friend Alexandra (Mya Taylor) on an eventful Christmas Eve. Freshly release from lock-up, Sin-Dee sets out on a mission of revenge when she finds out that her pimp boyfriend cheated on her with white fish while she was incarcerated. What follows is a tight 90 minutes of propulsive action as she tears up the streets of Tinseltown in search of the thot that stole her man. Along with some beautiful, tender character moments as Alexandra tries to rally her friends to attend her vocal set at a local night club.
Tangerine could have been all gimmick and no heart, but it's free of cheap schlock. Rodriguez and Taylor are electric and commanding as the film's leads, and the movie is downright gorgeous. Any iPhone concerns are quickly brushed away as Baker captures the untamed streets of Los Angeles in a cast of red and orange hues, giving the city it's due vibrancy. The peculiar camera choice also allows Baker to get in some quick shots and tough angles that would have otherwise been impossible on this budget. The end result is a film that feels intimate and thriving; a little bit dirty, but a lot more intriguing. Like a piece of high-end lingerie found floating in the gutter of Santa Monica boulevard.
Ultimately, Tangerine is a beautiful story about friendship through the lens of a world most of us will never glance. It's funny. It's touching. It's a bit raucous and occasionally ridiculous. It's an unexpectedly delightful Christmas movie -- though I probably wouldn't watch it with Grandma (but hey, maybe you have a real cool grandma). It's a wild romp that's all but destined to become a cult classic, or maybe just a classic.
4. Spotlight
Spotlight has everything in the world going for it: it tells an important story, and it has a flawless script, Tom McCarthy's confident direction, and an impeccable ensemble cast that could populate its own Best Supporting category. But Spotlight is a case of the whole out-measuring its parts, because the result is not only a breathtaking movie but a much-needed affirmation of goodness.
The film centers on The Boston Globe's "Spotlight" investigative unit; the team of journalists who uncovered the far-reaching church conspiracy to cover-up the sexually abusive acts by priests. It's horrific in the ultimate degree, and Spotlight could have been a horror story, but instead it is a tale of hope. It's a reminder of the importance and impact of good people doing hard work for the right cause. It's a reminder why society needs journalism and fearless truth-tellers. And McCarthy does it all without of whiff of grandiosity.
Spotlight is a humble movie; never showy or ostentatious. There's a quiet stillness that belies the massive implications of the story it's telling. Spotlight doesn't instruct you how to feel. The cues are there, but McCarthy leaves the breathing room to let the audience reach their own conclusions. These journalists aren't self-destructive drunks, pompous dilettantes, or any stereotypical writer-types. There's no pontificating, speech making or hero moments. Spotlight is a quiet, introspective film that is both devastating and inspirational. Yes, the world can be awfully bad, but the people who populate that world, even if we aren't entirely free from complicity, can actually change it when we roll up our sleeves and dig in.
3. The Diary of a Teenage Girl
The Diary of a Teenage Girl is a groundbreaking, important film in the well-trod "coming of age" subgenre. We've seen it time and time again from the male point of view, or from a puritanical perspective for good girls gone bad (before always, always realizing the error of their ways), but never before has there been such an honest, fearless depiction of pubescent female sexuality that has no interest in casting aspersions on its leading lady.
And what a leading lady. Bel Powley stars as Minnie Getz, a 15-year-old girl who experiences a ferocious sexual awakening when she begins an affair with her hippie mother's (Kristen Wiig) 35-year-old boyfriend (Alexander Skarsgard), Monroe. From then on, Minnie is pure insatiable hunger, as told to us through her confessional tapes. Like all teenagers, she wants love and attention, but she also wants to fuck. A lot. Minnie has that fever-pitch hormonal obsessiveness inherent to teenage girlhood -- the same that's responsible for throngs of weeping teens outside every One Direction and Justin Bieber concert -- but being sexually active at a young age, and living in the free-love and lotsa drugs world of 1970s San Francisco, Minnie's obsession is directed at the real deal instead of chaste pretty boys dancing on stage.
Powley takes Minnie through her tumultuous affairs and learning experiences with a remarkable empathy and honesty. She is, like so many teenagers, incredibly wise and insightful and yet so naive she can't see the difference between a man and a man-child. Diary of a Teenage Girl has no interest in judging or punishing Minnie for her sexual drive, so Powley gets to invest completely in a raw and unfettered performance. And she's guided to perfection by first-time writer-director Marielle Heller, whose clarity of vision makes for a stunning debut. Minnie is also a burgeoning artist, and Heller uses artwork to give greater insight into the mind and spirit of the young girl, adding to the confessional feel as we have access to Minnie's most sacred secrets. The result is a film that tells a singular, unusual coming of age tale, but feels relatable, honest and brave.
2. Mad Max: Fury Road
Lots of us had our hopes up pretty high when we learned that George Miller was leaving behind the talking pigs and tap dancing penguins to head back to the wasteland that made him famous with Mad Max: Fury Road. None of us, however, could have anticipated the full-throttle masterwork of frenzied action, rich world-building, and complete characters that we ended up with. No one could predict that Fury Road would be the most cinematic experience of the year. And yet, Miller delivered a non-stop joy of a thrill ride that is only so overpacked with spectacle as it is with substance.
Expertly directed, with the kind of eye for detail that leaves you picking up new pieces with every re-watch, Fury Road takes Miller's apocalyptic world gone mad and endows it with a piercing modernity. It's the kind of film you marvel at, noticing new facets from every angle, making it particularly difficult to sum up in these brief blurbs. How do you choose what to celebrate? Junkie XL's rousing score? John Seale's gorgeous cinematography? The you-have-to-be-crazy-to-try-that practical effects? The engrossing performances from the entire cast led by Charlize Theron, Tom Hardy and Nicholas Hoult? You could continue down the line through every department because Fury Road is made with an inspiring measure of technical precision. But if it is an incredible achievement in filmmaking, it is also just a face-melting good time. All the exemplary elements fold together to make a propulsive, engrossing film; an all-time action great that is so very shiny and chrome.
1. Ex Machina
The directorial debut from Sunshine and 28 Days Later screenwriter Alex Garland, Ex Machina is a stunning, complicated sci-fi mind fuck that bends you to its will and sends you out the door in a state of existential quandary. In the age where serialized narrative reigns supreme, Garland embraces cinema as short format storytelling, making Ex Machina one of those ever-rarer treats of a film that is entirely complete and self-contained. Like something pulled from the pages of the science fiction anthologies I devoured in school, it's story that is best consumed in a single bite.
The film follows Domhnall Gleeson's Caleb, an employee of a google-esque mega corporation who is whisked away to a retreat at the company founder's remote home. There, Caleb discovers his bro-genius employer Nathan (Oscar Isaac) has created true artificial intelligence, a bot by the name of Ava (an impeccable Alicia Vikander), and wants Caleb to test her humanity. What follows is a series of uneasy social interactions that take you down the rabbit hole of quiet panic and sinking unease.
My first viewing of Ex Machina left me cold. The film seemed hard and unforgiving, and I felt alienated by the ending. But it got under my skin. Way under. Couldn't shake it. I spent days thinking about the film, not only it's narrative, but the implications of it and the headache-inspiring questions it asks of the audience. I couldn't get my mind off the characters and their complex relationship dynamics. Couldn't stop pondering -- What is the nature of gender? Sexuality? Humanity? What separates good men from great men? Does it matter anyway when we're all such fragile pieces of meat? -- You know, light stuff.
Ultimately, Ex Machina pulled off a remarkable and rare feat. It caused a slight shift in my world view. It altered my paradigm, just so. The questions Ex Machina poses aren't unusual in the genre it stems from, but they are so expertly posed, so beautifully rendered that the film stands tall as an example of how to cajole your audience with complexity without losing them. And how to deliver one hell of a dance break.
For much more of Collider’s Best of 2015 content, click here, and peruse our other editor’s Top 10 lists below: