Top 20 Movies of 2018

2018 in Film

I always try to share my best-of-the-year movie lists before the Oscars air, but this year I was too busy agonizing over the inevitable Best Picture win for Green Book. In any case, 2018 (like 2017 before it) was an eclectic year in film, with plenty of quality to go around across a spectrum of genres. Superhero films continued their reign at the top of the box office, and most were quite good (3 found their way onto my list). Performers like Bradley Cooper, Jonah Hill and Bo Burnham transitioned seamlessly into the director’s chair with bold debut features. Such visionary creators as Spike Lee, Ryan Coogler and Barry Jenkins continued to provoke with their thoughtful explorations of race and class in America and beyond. Sure, certain big budget blockbusters failed to meet critical or financial expectations (Solo, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, A Wrinkle in Time, Crimes of Grindelwald, The Cloverfield Paradox), and the awards industry seems to have gone completely insane (nominating Green Book and Bohemian Rhapsody over Eighth Grade, First Reformed or Hereditary), but if you knew where to look, 2018 offered more than its fair share of cinematic greatness.

Docs

I don’t typically rank documentaries with narrative features, but some of the best films in 2018 happened to be non-fiction, so I had to shout out a few. I didn’t get a chance to see RBG, Free Solo or Three Identical Strangers, but Won’t You Be My Neighbor, Minding the Gap, and Love Gilda all challenged me, lifted me up and made me feel less alone. Add to that the strange thrill of comparing Fyre Festival documentaries, and 2018 turned out to be the year I learned to love docs.

What I Missed

While I try my best to watch everything worth watching, I did miss a few acclaimed and celebrated movies last year. To name a few: Bumblebee, Aquaman, The Wife, Cold War, Shoplifters, and Burning. I’ll catch them eventually, but don’t expect to see them on my list.

Honorable Mentions

Finally, before we get into the list proper, here are a few (a lot of) honorable mentions:
A Star is Born - Overall: very good. Almost as good as the Oscars performance of “Shallow.”
American Animals - Documentary and dramatization collide in this utterly original deconstructed heist movie.
Beautiful Boy - Timothee Chalamet was robbed for awards attention, and Steve Carell continues his ascent to dramatic acting greatness.
The Favourite - Monarchies are f*cking insane, y’all. And all these women (Rachel Weisz, Emma Stone and Olivia Coleman) are at the height of their powers.
Isle of Dogs - If you like Wes Anderson, but wish his movies had a little more heart, this is the one for you.
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs - Western vignettes artfully painted by the Coen Bros with their unique brand of cynicism.
A Quiet Place - John Krasinski’s ode to the horrors of parenting is fun for all ages!
First Man - Alternately slow and breathlessly thrilling, anchored by amazing performances from Claire Foy and Ry Ry Goosebaby.
Private Life - Finally, a vehicle worthy of Kathryn Hahn’s talent.
Can You Ever Forgive Me - Melissa McCarthy forgoes her usual boisterous charm to deliver an earthy (and quite moving) performance.
Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again - Maybe the most fun I had in a theater this year. Better than the first because the jokes actually land.
Game Night - Rachel McAdams dunks on some comedy vets in this studio comedy triumph.
Unsane - Steven Soderbergh’s iPhone-filmed medical-fraud nightmare again finds Claire Foy in peak form.
A Simple Favor - Blake Lively delivers an Oscar-caliber performance in this pulpy mommy-noir.
Mary Poppins Returns - Not quite what I hoped, but much better than I feared. Emily Blunt shines.
Sorry to Bother You - A deconstruction of everything from race to capitalism, packaged superbly for maximum discomfort.
The Rider - Chloe Zhao crafted this raw horse-and-his-boy story (one of two this year) around her lead actor and his own real-life trauma.
Widows - Like Oceans 8 but with stakes.
Upgrade - Stylish, fast-paced, original, and a little dumb.
To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before - This teen romantic comedy will charm even the hardest cynic.
Crazy Rich Asians - Turns out romantic comedies can still feel fresh when diverse creators take the reins.
Thoroughbreds - The darkest heir to the Heathers throne.
Wildlife - One of several movies this year to highlight what a horror it is to belong to a family.
Teen Titans Go! To the Movies - A spoof on superhero movies that defies all expectations with its cleverness and charm.
Mandy - Every frame a metal album cover.

The List

With those out of the way, here’s my list for my top 20 films of 2018!

20. Tully - I’m a colossal fan of rebel screenwriter Diablo Cody (Juno, Jennifer’s Body, Young Adult, Ricki and the Flash), especially when she pairs with director Jason Reitman. Last year’s Tully marked their third collaboration, after Juno and Young Adult, and while it’s not my favorite of the three (that distinction goes to Juno), it is the most mature and sophisticated with its nuanced, tender, and occasionally harrowing depiction of motherhood and family life. Charlize Theron is somehow both devastating and understated, and Mackenzie Davis (playing Theron’s character’s night nanny) is absolutely luminous. Every scene the two share crackles with energy and pathos.

19. BlacKkKlansman - Spike Lee’s latest feature, which some have heralded as his return to form, finds the prolific auteur painting in greyer shades than his previous films on race like Do the Right Thing or Malcolm X. Some have even accused Lee of going soft, like Sorry to Bother You director and activist Boots Riley, who expressed disappointment over the film’s conciliatory attitude toward the police. Even so, BlacKkKlansman is not afraid to pick sides. While the film articulates both moderate and radical black perspectives, neither is caricatured or demonized, because the true enemy is (as it ever was) white supremacy. In fact, as the film’s controversial final moments remind us, this violent ideology has not faded in the years since BlacKkKlansman’s true story took place, but has instead found a path to legitimacy in the rhetoric and policies of our current presidential administration. A movie has never made me rage-cry before. That was a new experience.

18. Mid90s - There were three movies about skating culture in 2018, and all of them quite good. The best (Minding the Gap) is a documentary and therefore doesn’t qualify for the list proper, but Jonah Hill’s directorial debut actually shares quite a bit of DNA with Bing Liu’s opus. Both explore youth and male friendship. Both critically engage with how masculinity functions in American culture. Both feature naturalistic, embodied “performances” (so to speak) by non-actors. Indeed, Jonah Hill cast his young skaters from the streets of LA, and it shows (in a good way). The autobiographical nature of the story (Hill grew up in this same subculture) keeps everything grounded and emotionally resonant. You’ll wince, you’ll cry, you’ll want to give these kids a hug or a well-deserved time out. But in any case, you’ll feel for them.

17. Annihilation - After such genre triumphs as Sunshine, 28 Days Later and Ex Machina (plus underrated gems Dredd and Never Let Me Go), writer/director Alex Garland has proven himself one of the most accomplished science fiction storytellers working. Annihilation (loosely adapted from Jeff VanderMeer’s novel) marks the director’s most experimental effort yet, and definitely his most frightening. The film’s all-female cast shines (or perhaps shimmers), fronted by Natalie Portman in a consciousness-probing performance. As with all good sci-fi, Annihilation asks some big, and deeply-humane questions, about grief, identity, evolution, and the human propensity toward self-destruction. You’ll still be chewing on this one months later. I know I am.

16. Avengers: Infinity War - When the first Avengers managed to effectively balance the powers and personalities of its five-or-so heroes, critics rightfully hailed writer/director Joss Whedon for accomplishing the impossible. Fast forward to 2018, and we find the Russo brothers (also responsible for both excellent Captain America sequels) balancing almost thirty heroes from eighteen MCU films. If Whedon was a master juggler, the Russos juggled chainsaws. And it worked! Infinity War was a staggering movie-watching experience. From moment one I felt all eighteen movies worth of stakes and character development collapsing in on each other. I’d spent a whole decade meeting and learning about these characters, and I care about what happens to them, which made the whole affair that much more devastating. Some found the third Avengers installment needlessly and gratuitously grim for a movie made (at least partially) for kids, but it’s hard to fault the Russos for masterfully bringing the franchise to its climax. Will they stick the landing with this year’s Endgame? Who knows, but I’ll be first in line to find out.

15. Black Panther - There’s nothing I can say about Black Panther that hasn’t already been said, and better than I could say it. All I can add is that this movie was both made for me and not made for me. It was not made for me in that, unlike virtually every other superhero blockbuster, its hero does not look like me and its cultural milieu does not reflect my own. This movie spoke to the experiences of an audience that deserved better representation much sooner, and the record-breaking box office reflects it. On the other hand, this movie was made for me in that it is truly stellar in its own right, as a superhero film, as a technical achievement, and as a philosophical reflection on the horrors of colonialism and the relative merits of isolationism and interventionism. In those respects, Black Panther was made for anyone with eyes to see its beauty and insight. And the box office reflects that, too. Plus, a Best Picture nod at the Oscars? Not too shabby.

14. Boy Erased - I expected Boy Erased, a true-to-life tale of anti-gay conversion therapy and its devastating effects on the lives of LGBTQ adolescents, to be a tearjerker, to elicit grief and heartbreak. Instead, the movie seethes. It quakes with anger over the injustices perpetrated against queer children by bigoted religious folk. Maybe it’s where I’m at in my own journey with faith and sexuality, but I’m so grateful for this film’s rage. That said, Boy Erased does not villainize its well-intentioned (if ultimately wrongheaded) characters, rather choosing to see the humanity even in those who perpetrate dehumanization. Neither, however, does the film allow said dehumanization to go unchallenged. Instead, it seriously interrogates whether helping should ever look like harm, and I agree with its conclusion: If your attempts at help are causing harm, then they are not helping. If your doctrines and dogmas damage the vulnerable, then they are not compatible with the way of Christ.

13. Roma - Alfonso Cuarón’s most personal film to-date found the director excavating his own childhood to craft something so intimate, yet so majestic in its scope and visual palate, that it might be the greatest triumph in his already-impressive oeuvre (which also includes Gravity, Children of Men, Y Tu Mamá También and The Prisoner of Azkaban). Roma follows Cleo, the indigenous housekeeper to a wealthy, lighter-complected Mexican family (inspired by Cuarón’s own childhood maid) in the Roma district of 1970 Mexico City. To describe the plot beyond that would almost miss the point, because while Cleo’s story is an occasionally thrilling one, what matters more to Roma is the small moments. It is a glorious celebration of the ordinary, a larger-than-life ode to the quotidian. And if you’ve a little patience, it will take your breath away.

12. Leave No Trace - One of two tender, contemplative indie films from 2018 which happen to (at least partially) take place in Portland is Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace. The film explores rural homelessness, veterans’ issues, PTSD and the bond between father and daughter. What I appreciate about Leave No Trace is its unwillingness to cast any of its complicated, naturalistic characters as villains. Real life doesn’t require villainy to be difficult. Character actor Ben Foster puts in career-best work as a homeless veteran trying to provide for his daughter (Thomasin McKenzie, harnessing a young Jodie Foster intensity in one of the year’s most underratedly genius performances). Some might find the film’s pace a bit glacial, but I could watch these realistically-drawn characters trying their best to survive all day long.

11. First Reformed - Tragically, the Christian film industry doesn’t usually have much to say about Christian life. Christian movies pander to their audiences’ beliefs rather than challenging or critically engaging them. Fortunately, on occasion, great filmmakers (some Christian, some not) rise to the occasion, telling stories about faith that reckon with the complexity and profundity of the human experience. This year, Paul Schrader (screenwriter behind cinematic classics like Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and The Last Temptation of Christ) brought one such tale to life. Sure, First Reformed is thoughtfully written, beautifully performed, and borrows from the transcendental style of Robert Bresson, but what struck me most was its authenticity. It’s uncanny how many specific, procedural elements of Christian ministry this movie nails. One wonders whether Schrader ever considered the ministry himself. Plus, the film’s central question (Will God forgive us for the way we’ve abused and exploited His creation?) is one modern Christians must soberly and prayerfully consider. I have a high view of God’s grace, but since watching First Reformed I’ve also been filled with a healthy dose of holy terror. Will God forgive us?

10. Hereditary - The way the awards industry continues to relegate genre films to secondary status gets more baffling by the year. After all, some of the most critically acclaimed and commercially successful films of the decade have been horror flicks (The Conjuring, The Babadook, It Follows, Get Out, It). 2018 continued this trend with a few stellar entries to the genre (A Quiet Place, Annihilation, Mandy, Unsane), but the most staggering, masterful one had to be Ari Aster’s debut Hereditary. Harrowing, atmospheric, darkly funny, and deliberately crafted and shot, Hereditary tells the story of a family coping with grief, tragedy, and the legacy of mental illness. The first third or so feels more like a family drama than a traditional scary movie, culminating in a sequence so realistically dread-inducing that I almost left the theater. If you can push through, however, there comes a point of tension release when the film delves straight into horror territory, becoming so absurdly scary that it’s fun again. Hereditary truly fires on all cylinders, but its centerpiece is Toni Collette. There was no better performance last year than Collette’s Annie.

9. Paddington 2 - As with Black Panther, much ink has been spilled over how Paddington 2 uniquely speaks to the moment in which we find ourselves. Indiewire critic David Ehrlich linked the film with a trend he calls “nicecore” cinema, in which films impel their viewers toward more kind, thoughtful and compassionate living (the Mr. Rogers documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor being another example). And truly, the delicate little bear’s mantra “If we are kind and polite, the world will be right” is one our world needs now more than ever. But more than that, the film itself is a treasure. Funny, charming, whimsical, and artistically bold. There’s really nothing to dislike here.

8. Lean on Pete - The other tender, contemplative indie film from 2018 which happens to (at least partially) take place in Portland is Andrew Haigh’s own horse-and-his-boy story Lean on Pete. I have a soft spot for stories about emotionally vulnerable young men coming to terms with a harsh and volatile world (think The Outsiders or The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Films like these challenge traditional associations between masculinity and aggression, while giving voice to a kind of young man otherwise looked over by our culture, one Anne Lamott would call the “overly-sensitive child.” The ones who see the pain in the world and can’t help but be moved by it. The ones who soldier on despite feeling overwhelmed all the damn time. Charlie Plummer plays Lean on Pete’s overly-sensitive child, and he will break your heart, as will the movie around him. It’s beautifully naturalistic, thematically rich and exquisitely sad, but never gratuitously so.

7. Bad Times at the El Royale - Joss Whedon acolyte and Buffy alum Drew Goddard forged his own path screenwriting big budget releases like Cloverfield and The Martian, but his greatest claim to fame is probably for writing/directing the modern horror masterpiece Cabin in the Woods, which explores and lampoons genre tropes without devolving into parody. This year he turned a similar deconstructive impulse toward film noir, creating something pulpy and fun in the vein of Quentin Tarantino’s oeuvre. Indeed, some have criticized Bad Times for aping Tarantino’s style and tone, but I believe there’s a critical distinction between Tarantino and Goddard, and it’s a philosophical one. Unlike Tarantino, Goddard seems to find something redeemable in the mess of human depravity. Maybe there’s a glimmer, a spark of something good even among society’s seediest class. Also, shirtless cult-leader Chris Hemsworth is a sight to behold. And 2018 marked the meteoric rise of Cynthia Erivo (also great in Widows), who is delightful here as a scrappy lounge singer. Everyone’s great, and the whole thing’s just a lot of fun.

6. If Beale Street Could Talk - When Hollywood bothers to tackle racism at all, it tends to promote stories about complicated individuals whose personal prejudices keep them from seeing eye to eye. Racism, in these stories, is a character flaw, not a systemic problem perpetuated by power and privilege (see Best Picture winner Green Book). Thankfully, there were a few movies this year that understood racism and its legacy, even if the Academy overlooked them. In If Beale Street Could Talk (adapted from the novel by the great James Baldwin), Moonlight director Barry Jenkins crafted a touching ode to black dignity, joy and beauty, even under the yoke of oppression. Jenkins displayed yet again his flair for sensuous visuals, lush colors, and dynamic performances (especially Regina King, who just deservedly won her first Oscar for the film), in a story as relevant today as it was when Baldwin wrote it. Sadly, the specters of police brutality, mass incarceration and systemic racism have not disappeared from our midst. What Beale Street adds to the conversation is its poignant reminder of the lives ruined, and the love interrupted, by these wicked powers and principalities. It will enrage you, and break your heart, but do so beautifully.

5. Blindspotting - The world fell in love with Daveed Diggs in the dual role of Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette in Lin Manuel Miranda’s smash Broadway musical Hamilton. And yeah, he was great in it, but he really won my heart writing and starring in 2018’s most original film (and one of the most personal). Blindspotting follows Diggs’ Collin Hoskins and his best friend Miles (played by real-life best friend and co-screenwriter Rafael Casal), Oakland natives struggling to cope with their gentrifying hometown. The two have the natural, lived-in chemistry you’d expect from childhood friends, and each delivers brilliant performances in his own right. The script they wrote together also works unequivocally, with its fresh, authentic tone, humor, and ability to balance the social with the personal. Unlike BlacKkKlansman, Green Book, or even Beale Street, Blindspotting is one of the only movies to tackle race this year that actually takes place in the present, lending it added relevance and a sense of urgency. What this film understands that, say, Green Book doesn’t, is that love and understanding don’t necessarily bridge the gap caused by social injustice and systemic oppression. As Collin (black) and Miles (white) discover, it’s a little more complicated than that..

4. Love, Simon - Love, Simon is neither the greatest technical achievement nor the most profound artistic statement of last year, but it might be the movie that meant the most to me personally. 2018 was the year I came out to the world as bisexual, and this movie was a small, but significant, part of that process. For example, after I saw Love, Simon with my seminary roommate Austin, I came out to him on the drive home. Then, when I scripted and filmed a coming-out video to share on social media, I called it “Love, Jordan.” I connected so strongly with the film not because it was excellent (although it was quite good), but because it put words and images to feelings I’d never seen articulated in media before (e.g. hiding your sexuality feels like holding your breath, or it’s easier to tell folks you haven’t known as long). I felt so seen, so acknowledged, so represented by Love, Simon. And sure, there are probably movies that have done this stuff before, and maybe even better, but crucially, I’d neither seen nor heard of them. That’s the beauty of Love, Simon. It’s a movie people saw, and liked. It’s a movie you can watch with your mom or grandma. It’s a normal, competently-made coming-of-age romantic comedy for those of us who don’t conform to traditional sexual categories. And that makes it remarkable.

3. Eighth Grade - Comedian and wunderkind Bo Burnham rose to stardom in his teens as a Youtube comedian and musician, followed by a respectable career in stand up. In both media, Burnham’s work was characterized by acerbic deconstructions of popular culture, social mores, and comedy itself. When his writing/directing debut Eighth Grade was announced, I expected more of the same: irony, meta self-awareness, and perhaps even a certain smugness. Instead, Bo crafted something utterly earnest, sweet, and cringe-inducingly honest. Is Eighth Grade funny? Yes. Is is cruel? Only in that it’s realistic about how cruel eighth graders can be. But it’s also got a warm, beating heart, owing perhaps to its central performance. Elsie Fisher brought Bo’s words to life with alarming verisimilitude, authenticity and charm, and the two together gifted us a story about adolescence that can connect with the eighth grader in us all. We get to recall a bit of the naivete, hope and horror of that age without reliving it, and thank God for that.

2. Hearts Beat Loud - Sometimes I can see a potential favorite coming a mile away. Whether the cast, the crew or the content peaks my interest, I’ll get some sense that a movie was made specifically to delight me, and for 2018, Hearts Beat Loud was that movie. The quasi-musical indie comedy is sincere, heartfelt, and just the right mix of bitter and sweet, making it all the more frustrating that so few audiences caught it on theatrical release. Nick Offerman is predictably superb in the leading role, playing a father scrambling to connect with his guarded daughter before she leaves for college. Kiersey Clemons, on the other hand, is a delightful surprise as said daughter who does NOT want to be in a band with her dad. Also, in a year full of representation for queer relationships, this film’s romance manages to stand out for its matter-of-factness. It's young, queer love played "straight" (so to speak). Totally normal. I love it. And the music really slaps, too.

1. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - As I said in last year’s review of Homecoming, Spider-Man is my favorite superhero. I tend to engage with his movies more as a fan than a critic. At the end of 2017, I found myself agonizing over which Spidey-centered movie, Homecoming or Spider-Man 2, was my favorite, but now the question is moot because the answer is neither. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is now my favorite Spider-Man movie by a pretty wide margin. Its audacious animation style. Its Phil Lord-penned script. Its menagerie of alternate universe spider-folk, voiced by the likes of Hailee Steinfeld, Jake Johnson, Nicolas Cage and John Mulaney. Its anyone-can-wear-the-mask moral. And, most of all, its Spider-Man, Miles Morales: a teenage afro-latino Brooklynite with loving parents, relatable teenage foibles and a heart the size of Manhattan. Miles rises to the occasion because the world needs him to. He does the right thing because it’s the right thing to do, even when it’s the hard thing to do. That’s my Spider-Man. And to think of all the kids who’ll see a Spider-Man who looks like them, and dream that they could wear the mask too? Awesome.

Thanks for reading!

So, in summation, who had a good year?

Bears (Paddington, Annihilation)
Horses (Lean on Pete, The Rider)
Skating (Minding the Gap, Skate Kitchen, Mid90s)
Spider-Man (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Avengers: Infinity War)
The existential horror of family (Wildlife, Hereditary, A Quiet Place, Bird Box)
Fathers and daughters (Leave No Trace, First Man, Hearts Beat Loud, Eighth Grade)
Lucas Hedges in awardsy movies that didn’t really connect (Ben is Back, Boy Erased, Mid90s)
Romantic comedies with Asian American leads (Crazy Rich Asians, To All the Boys I Loved Before)