Mads goes mad, kitchen nightmares, Val Kilmer's personal history, COVID-19 road trip, hunky
boy hellraising, Big Bird's breakout, a pregnancy partnership, how to train your fly, a prison of
passive-aggressiveness, and Encino, man. Blu-ray.com's Brian Orndorf takes a look at his
favorite films of 2021.
Licorice Pizza
Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson has collected a career full of sensational pictures, but "Licorice Pizza" represents a reunion with the more mischievous ways of his early days. Soaking up the wonders of California locations, the strangeness of the 1970s, and the uneasy ways of obsession and disillusionment, Anderson creates a genuine cinematic adventure with his anti-love story, packing the endeavor with arresting visuals, volatile personalities, and dynamite performances, especially from newcomer Alana Haim, who delivers pure energy to the production. "Licorice Pizza" restores some of Anderson's old playfulness, and after years spent making grim features about the death of relationships and the slow erosion of souls, he returns with a movie that's rich with feeling, impishness, and that famous rocket sled PTA filmmaking rhythm.
Riders of Justice
Reteaming for another unusual picture, writer/director Anders Thomas Jensen and actor Mads Mikkelsen successfully rework revenge movie formula with "Riders of Justice," which isn't about the power of violence, but the mental deterioration such pursuits invite. Mikkelsen leads a fine cast of Danish actors, turning in another outstanding performance in a role that largely requires steely reactions to the world around the character. Jensen creates a wonderfully strange story of desperate acts and community interaction, working with the ways of vengeance to explore a deeper understanding of grief and frustration, gracefully managing severity and dark comedy in this consistently surprising and unexpectedly sincere feature.
Psycho Goreman
"Psycho Goreman" is not a film for all audiences, but those willing to go with its blend of comedy and grotesqueries are in for a real treat. Writer/director Steven Kostanski creates one of the finest B-movies in recent memory, stuffing the effort with inventive visual effects and monster creations, putting on a real show of low-budget creativity that's a delight to watch. "Psycho Goreman" is the most violent picture of 2021, but it has a silly sense of humor to cut through all the extremity, with Kostanski creating big laughs while arranging unforgettable horrors. He also has an appealing way with spunky/bratty kid behaviors, making this magnificently weird "E.T." riff all the more hilarious.
Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street
"Street Gang" is a documentary about the creation of "Sesame Street," tracking the development of a show for young children that would go on to change television over its first decade of production. In these impossibly dark times we live in, "Street Gang" provides a necessary reminder of creative energy, atypically noble programming intentions, and masterful execution with a T.V. offering that literally changed lives (and continues to do over 50 years later – an incredible run of pure heart and imagination). Director Marilyn Agrelo doesn't have the screen time to examine the full experience of "Sesame Street," but she gets most of the way there with this fascinating film, which details the pains of creation and the glory of connection, also making time to grasp the enormity of Jim Henson's contributions to the show.
Shiva Baby
"Shiva Baby" isn't a horror film, but it supplies the most frightening viewing experience of the year. Writer/director Emma Seligman brings viewers into the pressure cooker environment of a shiva observance involving a community of judgmental family members and a young woman trying to make it through an afternoon event while she watches her entire world fall apart. Seligman turns a traditional gathering into a hellish situation of denial and survival, creating extraordinary suspense along the way. Rachel Sennott makes a distinct impression in the lead role, and the material sharply ducks and weaves around disaster (and gleefully plows right into it as well), with waves of stinging passive-aggressiveness generating exquisite levels of screen tension.
Mandibles
Writer/director Quentin Dupieux is a man who loves his screen mischief, creating a filmography of charmingly weird pictures that magically avoid strained eccentricity. "Mandibles" is perhaps the only movie of 2021 that features a giant fly at the center of its story, and it happens to be the best one. Dupieux establishes oddity and doesn't flinch, working with his dry sense of humor to sell an outlandish tale of friendship and insect exploitation. Laughs are plentiful here, along with pure Dupieux-ian bizarreness, skillfully balancing shock and silliness, with an outstanding commitment to oddity.
Val
It's enough to have a documentary about Val Kilmer, with his eventful life an ideal subject for a cinematic examination. "Val" goes to the next level of viewer engagement though the use of intimate home movies Kilmer's been making since he was a child. "Val" is illuminating (helping to explain the whole "Island of Dr. Moreau" fiasco) and emotional, providing necessary insight into the actor's sometime reckless behavior over the years while identifying his unique experiences with filmmakers, actors, family, and especially health, with son Jack giving his father a voice for the sensitive and revealing picture.
Boiling Point
Instead of simply becoming another feature employing a single take gimmick to attract attention, "Boiling Point" manages to do something potent with elaborate choreography and weaving camerawork. Spending an evening inside a busy restaurant while the head chef is swarmed by problems both professional and personal, co-writer/director Philip Barantini takes viewers on a ride of disasters and acts of intimidation, generating a nail-biting level of suspense that rivals most top-tier thrillers. "Boiling Point" isn't flashy, preferring to use the one-shot approach to capture the intensity of a professional setting gradually unraveling, putting focus on tremendous performances out to create an unsettling level of realism.
Together Together
Writer/director Nikole Beckwith delivers a charming relationship story with "Together Together," and does so without dealing with cliché, finding her own way through an opposites attract tale that often heads in surprising directions. Stars Patti Harrison and Ed Helms share some of the best chemistry of the year, and they both work exceptionally well in comedic and dramatic modes. Laughs are plentiful in "Together Together," but the richness of feeling and the toughness of reality is really where Beckwith scores, keeping matters as real as possible while trying to win over viewers with this heartfelt gem.
Stop and Go
Nobody wants movies about COVID-19. Producers are trying to bring pandemic blues to the screen, but it hasn't worked, resulting in some dreary, forgettable features. "Stop and Go" is a
comedy about COVID-19. It doesn't make fun of illness or loss, but the craziness and crushing uncertainty of March 2020, when the world stopped. Writer/stars Mallory Everton and Whitney Call keep things silly and crazy with this hilarious picture, daring to confront lockdown life with a road movie that's loaded with strange encounters and touchable surface paranoia. It's broad stuff, but consistently funny and somewhat daring, willing to explore a bewildering shared experience that's typically associated with extreme depression.
Also of Note: Swan Song,
Days of the Bagnold Summer,
The Dig,
Falling,
Ghostbusters: Afterlife,
Pig,
Judas and the Black Messiah,
Cowboys,
My Zoe,
Dementer,
Godzilla vs. Kong,
Ema,
The Night House,
Dune,
Small Engine Repair,
Worth,
Old Henry,
Boss Level,
The Killing of Two Lovers, and
The Power of the Dog.