Best Films of 2014 (#15-11)

Looking over this entry, it occurs to me that, by sheer coincidence, the films on my list most unfriendly to a mass audience all ended up in #15-11. That's not a problem, but it does make me feel like a pretentious snob when they're all grouped together in one post. Anyway, I promise that tomorrow will include a few films you've probably heard of, but in the meantime, maybe give these a shot?

Also, I've noted which films are currently available on Netflix Instant if you'd like to check them out, and I went back and did the same for the previous posts.

You can see #50-21 over here.
And you can read about #20-16 over here.

15. Manakamana (Stephanie Spray & Pacho Velez)

                I've seen two films from Harvard University’s Sensory Ethnography Lab, Leviathan and now Manakamana, and both are small-scale masterpieces that exist well outside what has traditionally been defined as a documentary. The entirety of Manakamana takes place in a cable transporting people to and from the temple from which the film gets its name. The camera simply observes them, and that’s about it. I’ve read many pieces from critics analyzing what the film is “about,” and, to some extent, the film welcomes such things, but I just find it hypnotic to watch. I would have never expected one of the most intense scenes of the year to be of a woman rushing to finish a quickly melting ice cream bar, nor would have I expected to find such a magical musical moment in a cable car ride. It's obviously not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but I found it to be a captivating and singular experience.

Currently available on Netflix Instant.

14.) Force Majeure (Ruben Ostlund)

                 Right from the get-go, the central family of Force Majeure seems way happier than any reasonable family should be while on vacation. It’s immediately apparent that this isn’t going to last, and that something will cause the pitch-perfect surface to crack.  When an act of cowardice from Dad finally does cause the family unit to collapse in on itself, director Ruben Ostlund observes the resulting repercussions with a sense of humor that recalls the films of Michael Haneke. You can almost hear him laughing in the face of concepts like masculinity and gender roles.

Oh, humanity, how silly you are.

13.) Stray Dogs (Tsai Ming-Liang)

                Stray Dogs is the first film I’ve seen from the celebrated Taiwanese director Tsai Ming-Liang, and I can’t say it makes me eager to explore his filmography further. For the majority of its running, this is one downer of a film, depicting the soul-crushing effects of homelessness on a single family. Tsai’s use of long takes makes for some beautifully filmed moments of devastating sadness. These characters seem to have lost all hope for a better life. And then, in its final third, the film goes in a completely unexpected and bewildering direction that somehow manages to be even more troubling than what has come before. I can’t say I understand everything that unfolds in these final scenes, but that only seems to make it more haunting. The final two shots in particular will stick with me for a long time.

Currently available on Netflix Instant

12.) Closed Curtain (Jafar Panahi)

                Closed Curtain is the second feature Jafar Panahi has directed since the Iranian government placed a 20-year ban from filmmaking on him in 2010, and yet he’s still finding new ways to innovate and challenge the perception of what film can be. It begins with a man hiding out for some unknown reason in a beach house near the Caspian Sea. He is soon joined by some unexpected guests, and what follows is better left unspoiled. All I’ll say is that the film quickly transforms from the small drama it initially seems to be into something else entirely that seamlessly blends fiction and reality. Panahi is clearly (and justly)frustrated by the constraints the Iranian government has placed on him, but it’s still inspiring to see he hasn’t let that prevent him from continuing to grow and innovate as an artist.

11.) Nymphomaniac (Lars Von Trier)

                Lars Von Trier’s two-part, four hour epic is a film about sex addiction, but it’s not about sex addiction, if that makes sense. The film begins with its protagonist, Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg), lying beaten and unconscious in an alley way and being rescued by a stranger named Seligman (Stellan Skarsgaard). When she comes to in his house, they start to talk and she ends up telling him her life story. Von Trier splits the story into eight chapters, each with its own style, but all of them overwhelming to the senses. It’s an intensely emotional story, yet Seligman frequently interrupters her to question coincidences and point out the allegorical nature of some moments. And here in lies the point. Throughout the films lengthy running time, Joe, an emotional, sexual being, clashes again and again with Seligman, an intellectual, asexual one. It all comes together in a shocking final scene which is not, as many have suggested, a simple “fuck you” from the director, but a culmination of what’s been building all along, as the emotional and the analytical try and fail to cohere.

Both the theatrical and director's cuts for Vol. I and Vol. II are currently available on Netflix Instant.

Check back tomorrow when I post #10-6 on my list of the year's best films.