Hello everyone! It’s been nearly a year since my last post and I’ve been thinking about how to restart my engagement here. This is largely because I’ve been moved by the occasional emails I get that someone new has followed the Substack—to all of you who are receiving a new email from me for the first time, welcome and thank you so much for joining! I want to make the space I take up in your reading lives worthwhile, so I am thinking about how to do this sustainably alongside the other work that I do.
One of the things that’s kept me busy is the annual video countdown I’ve been working on over the last six months. 2023 has been over for a while, but I couldn’t let it go without sharing the ten movies I enjoyed seeing the most for the first time. Some of these are likely movies that everyone else has seen (I’ve gotten a few responses from family/friends along the lines of “You JUST saw this now?!”), but I do hope that if you find anything of interest in these films, it’ll give you a glimpse of the kinds of movies I hope to bring to your attention when I come back to this space more regularly. Apart from the countdown itself, I’m writing share my notes about my selections this year.
The Countdown
Here it is on Vimeo, but if you prefer a YouTube link, you can also watch it here.
The Notes
Never Not Love You (2018), dir. Antoinette Jadaone
This year, I decided to go through Antoinette Jadaone’s filmography to get myself in the zone for a new longform project. Never Not Love You stood out to me as the strongest of her works, balancing reality and sentimentality in a way I found very resonant and striking. The ending leans a bit too much in the direction of the standard love-team fare that characterizes a lot of Philippine romance cinema, but I found myself really engaged with the way its two leads navigated the tension between where the head wants to go and where the heart leads you.
Jerry Maguire (1996), dir. Cameron Crowe
This is a bit of a cheat because I didn’t really appreciate Jerry Maguire until my second viewing, which shortly followed the first. The key to this movie, in my opinion, is the way Cameron Crowe colors in the background of his film with his characters’ feelings. I found this a very interesting way to telegraph mood in a narrative medium without having the characters say it outright—think specifically about how Bonnie Hunt’s divorcee support group functions every time they appear and how they either pressure or respond to the emotions that Tom and Renée bring in whenever they’re forced into an encounter with them.
The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), dir. Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger
I jumped on this film after learning that Kazuo Ishiguro had seen this movie and then immediately went home to write his breakthrough, The Remains of the Day. Fans of that novel will likely appreciate Colonel Blimp, which is the story of a British military man who believes in gentleman’s warfare, but finds that the world is leaving his philosophy behind. The use of Technicolor is absolutely stunning in this film and I find it worth watching for Roger Livesey’s charismatic and uncanny performance as a man who ages through forty years of war.
127 Hours (2010), dir. Danny Boyle
I always make sure to pick one film that I think is a good metaphor for writing, and this year I think it’s Danny Boyle’s 127 Hours. Bear with me through the James Franco of it all, but I want to argue that 127 Hours could be read as a film about learning to let go of the ego (ironically) that results in creative blocks. If you’ve ever wanted to see a film about killing your darlings, then let it be this film about cutting off the arm that keeps you pinned between a rock and a hard place.
Talk to Me (2022), Danny and Michael Philippou
2023 was a weirdly light year for my experience of horror, but that didn’t stop the Philippou Brothers’ Talk to Me from jumping out where others failed to stand. One of my key takeaways from this movie is that a good story isn’t always about a plot device, but how the characters react to it and use it to their advantage. How does this film’s hand prop unlock the protagonist’s wants? How does their willingness to get those wants feed into the film’s themes about addiction and peer pressure?
The Shop Around the Corner (1940), dir. Ernst Lubitsch
Such a lovely film! At the same time, I wasn’t expecting that the inspiration for You’ve Got Mail would be a great case study in b-plotting. James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan front the film with their enemies-to-lovers suite for sure, but the subplot going on with the shop’s side characters holds its weight in comedy and drama. I’m especially moved with the way these characters’ sadnesses peer out through the festive Christmas setting.
John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023), dir. Chad Stahelski
Probably my favorite cinema-going experience of 2023. I saw this twice in theaters and could feel the crowd’s defeat and relief as Keanu Reeves’ titular assassin fought his way through Paris’ local hitman industry. This isn’t a film that is satisfied with saving all of its big moves for the finale, but thoughtfully finds ways to make each sequence as exciting and visually striking as the last. Somehow, it made me feel the thrill of playing Time Crisis 2 as a kid again.
The King of Comedy (1983), dir. Martin Scorsese
This film is more stressful to me than Uncut Gems. On one hand, it’s the story of a guy who has superhuman levels of audacity. As an extreme introvert, I cannot relate. On the other hand, it’s the story of what crowds respond to and what holds weight in the court of public opinion. If you ever worry that your story won’t matter unless everybody’s reading it, then relax. They won’t.
Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (2018), dir. Ol Parker
I could genuinely write multiple essays about this film—and I mean at least two. There is so much going on formally and thematically in this sequel to the famously drunken adaptation of the Broadway classic that I think deserves the scrutiny of a film studies class. I know I’m saying this about what looks like a ridiculous movie on its surface, but once you accept that the ridiculousness is the sauce that gives the movie its flavor, then you can start to see how it makes an eight-course meal out of Prosecco and a deep dish pizza.
Sympathy for Lady Vengeance (2005), dir. Park Chan-wook
I’ll have to put a content warning here because it’s the kind of movie that’s so upsetting, I may never actually see it again: maybe don’t watch this if you have kids or feel emotionally attached to your nephews and nieces. With that in mind, this film features a simple yet amazing visual conceit that underlines its messaging about the futility of vengeance and the ways pursuing it may lead us to burdensome truths. Does that mean the film is saying outright that we shouldn’t pursue vengeance? I don’t think so. I feel that a great story leaves room for you to ask new questions, if not old questions in new ways. Lady Vengeance certainly does that for the viewer once its runtime is over with these questions: What do we now? What happens next? How do we live with what we know now?
Thanks for watching my countdown and reading my notes, and thanks for staying along for the ride. I’ll try to come back sooner than a year’s time to talk about movies new and old. In the meantime, tell me about your favorite recent cinema experiences. What were your favorite movies in 2023? What movies have you enjoyed lately?