TOP 10 of 2023
Well, that escalated quickly.
2023 was an embarrassing low point in international (and local) human history and very few of us will emerge from it in a better state than we entered. On the plus side, there were some wonderful moving pictures to distract us, at least for some of it.
Before I rank them, a few caveats:
We are from Perth, Western Australia. Bands won’t come here and it sometimes takes an extra six months to a year for movies to get cinema releases (if they even do). As such, some of the films on this list are from ‘2022’. But not my 2022.
Following on from the point above, many acclaimed ‘2023’ films won’t come out here until next year and are thus absent from this ranking. I’m looking at you, Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest.
Last year I ranked my Top 22 films of 2022. This year, I earned myself a more consuming job and no longer have time for such frivolity. I can give you 10.
So without further faffing, join me in a countdown.
10. Dream Scenario – Kristoffer Borgli
December contributes a hefty 50% share to this list, and what a thrill it was to see banger after banger as the year wound to a close. Its first representative comes from Norwegian writer/director Kristoffer Borgli (Sick of Myself) and follows an achingly ordinary man named Paul Matthews (Nicolas Cage) as he suddenly appears in the dreams of many. At first, Dream Paul is a useless bystander – a witness to the outlandish worlds of the collective subconscious. But as time goes by, the nature of a weak man left to fester becomes much more aggressive and bleeds into the world above. Dream Scenario is both satirical and sincere, painting a fascinating and tragically realistic story of a man who never really advocates for himself, and so falls prey to the narratives of others. It’s a high point in Cage’s filmography and another insight into Ari Aster’s (who produced the film) interest in exploring the messy, impotent side of masculinity.
9. Godzilla Minus One – Takashi Yamazaki
While rumours of the film costing a measly $15 million are - according to its director (and writer, and visual effects maestro) - false, this beast of a picture is proof that a gargantuan story will always trump a gargantuan budget. This ‘zilla follows the eponymous kaiju not giving a single fuck that Japan is at its absolute lowest point post-World War II as he sends them into negatives (hence the title). The people must put their hope not in the government that sent their fathers, sons and brothers to their graves, but in a failed Kamikaze pilot with hopes of retribution and a bunch of other regular folk who’ll fight because they want to, not because they’re told to. Godzilla Minus One is, for lack a better word, awesome. It’s big and melodramatic, like the blockbusters of yesteryear that placed heart at the same priority as spectacle. And it’s every bit as visually impressive as many films five times its scale. That so few people here have seen it is a damn shame, but strong word of mouth and rumours of a black and white encore may see the view toll grow.
8. Robot Dreams – Pablo Berger
New York in the 1980s would normally conjure associations of greed being good and coke being a drug, not a drink. But Pablo Berger’s gorgeous animation of loneliness, friendship and finding the right fit paints a much more mature and affecting portrait of the city that never sleeps (but definitely dreams). It starts out simply: Dog is lonely, Dog buys Robot off home-shopping channel, Dog builds best friend and is no longer lonely. But when Dog doesn’t realise that a trip to the beach will cause incapacitating rust to his new friend, the story takes a hard right turn. Robot Dreams, without an utterance of dialogue but with a fondness for Earth, Wind & Fire’s biggest earworm, touches something deep within the audience, no matter their age or level of life experience. Thinking about it still puts a lump in my throat.
7. Oppenheimer – Christopher Nolan
The best thing about Christopher Nolan’s latest is that its biggest moments live in hushed conversations in private rooms, making that one loud exception all the more powerful and dreadful. Oppenheimer explores the sins of men and the chain reactions they spark, focusing not on the big bada boom so much as humanity’s inability to put something back in the box once it has fulfilled its terrible purpose. Cillian Murphy earns his lead role and then some after a lifetime of collaboration with Nolan, and Emily Blunt’s ferocity as his character’s complicated wife is the most valid justification for an IMAX close-up. We flew across the country to see Oppenheimer (again) in the format its director intended, a trip we’re hoping to financially recover from some time next year. Worth it.
6. Triangle of Sadness – Ruben Östlund
In Titanic (the film and the doomed ship), only the rich got lifeboats. But in Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness, only those capable of providing for others (i.e. the help) get to eat. This Palme d’Or winning black comedy sees its socioeconomic-spanning group of characters (mostly) survive a mutiny on a luxury yacht, only to discover that social hierarchies are skewed in a deserted island scenario where cash is no longer king. This film has everything an embittered 21st century person could want: retribution for income inequality, drunken communist rants from Woody Harrelson and a healthy amount of upper class vomit. That we saw this film in the economy section of an outdoor cinema while a rogue Kookaburra stole double cream brie from the first class residents up front made the whole experience that much more satisfying. Eat the rich? In this economy? Don’t mind if I do!
5. The Holdovers – Alexander Payne
If you were to take Vice Principal Vernon out of The Breakfast Club and replace him with Paul Giamatti as a curmudgeonly history teacher, stir in a healthy dose of 70s cinema aesthetic (and music) and let the magic bubble up to the top, you might end up with something like The Holdovers. It’s rare to encounter a truly crowd-pleasing indie film that so beautifully captures contrasting experiences, but then, Payne has always understood high school (Election) and the pangs of middle age as experienced by difficult men (Sideways). Featuring terrific performances from Giamatti, Dominic Sessa and Da’Vine Joy Randolph, this one hits like a Cat Stevens song in a particularly rough period of one’s life.
4. Tár – Todd Field
16 years after his sophomore feature Little Children, Todd Field decided that the world might like to see Cate Blanchett as a narcissistic maestro with skeletons in her closet and carefully suppressed guilt somewhere in the space where her heart should be. He was absolutely right. Tár is a haunting psychological drama that forces its audience to follow, at best, an insufferable egotist and at worst, a person responsible for some very unsavoury acts, and trusts that we’ll be intrigued enough to stay in our seats. While there were a few who threw in the towel during our screening, I found myself as enamoured by the film as Tár’s students are by their flawed but fabulous teacher. Is it a ghost story or a fabricated biopic with an unreliable narrator? ¿Por qué no los dos?
3. Poor Things – Yorgos Lanthimos
“What a pretty little retard,” says a young man in response to a babbling Emma Stone in the opening sequence of Poor Things, Yorgos Lanthimos’ latest and most batshit (and that’s saying something) film. Based on a 1992 novel by Alasdair Gray and co-written by Tony McNamara (The Great and The Favourite), the film follows a young woman whose previous life informs her current one, but certainly will not dictate it. Poor Things is a Victorian creation tale of self-discovery and female sexual appetites in which Frankenstein’s horny monster discovers a hunger for all of life’s delights and disappointments. It features stunning performances from Stone, Willem Dafoe and a completely left of centre Mark Ruffalo, for whom I have a whole new level of respect. The film won’t be for everyone but then, if you don’t enjoy bright absurdism and black and white depictions of farm animal hybrids, life doesn’t hold much for you anyway.
2. Past Lives – Celine Song
While several films this year made me weep stoically, only two made me burst into big ugly tears. Celine Song’s directorial debut Past Lives is one of them. A film about the parts of self that get left behind in leaving a mother country, the narrative sprang from a real moment in Song’s life. In some sort of Schrödinger's cat scenario, she found herself wedged between her present American husband and her past Korean boyfriend, who had come to New York for a visit (and perhaps for some closure on an unfinished chapter in his own life). Past Lives is a simple story executed in the most magnificent fashion by someone with the maturity and quiet confidence to do so. There are no villains and no easy choices, and it’s the film’s realism that makes its cathartic conclusion as much of a release for the audience as it is for its heroine.
And in a move that should surprise no one…
1. Aftersun – Charlotte Wells
The other semi-autobiographical, female-directed feature debut that made me cry inconsolably at its close, Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun was always going to be the one to beat for 2023. Going down the Kodak rabbit hole was Wells’ jumping off point and it becomes Sophie’s (Frankie Corio) as she concurrently experiences and looks back on her final holiday in Turkey with her dad Calum (Paul Mescal). Sophie is kept at camera’s distance from the realities of Calum’s emotional state but we are more privy to the signs of his fracture. As we jump forward in time we meet Sophie as a parent herself, still trying to reconcile her memories of the man she thought she knew with one who is no longer in the picture. Aftersun holds within it mystery, realism, heart and sweetness. But most of all, it has a sense of nostalgia so powerful it hurts. And when you can’t afford therapy, finding it in a film is a godsend.
Honourable mentions to ease my guilt
It was really difficult to whittle my selection down to 10. And while it may be cheating, here are five films that almost made the list.
May December — Todd Haynes
Due to the threat of extreme recency bias, I’ve deemed this one ineligible to feature in my Top 10. It’s also a film that requires a moment for digestion, and I’m waiting to see how the discomfort settles.
Women Talking – Sarah Polley
Incredible cast, wonderful dialogue and important subject matter. If it weren't for the strength of December, it might’ve made it.
Maestro – Bradley Cooper
I don’t care what cynical people on Letterboxd say – it’s not Oscar bait if it’s actually good. And Carey Mulligan alone could have easily made this list.
Talk To Me – Danny and Michael Philippou
It’s not often you see a properly good indie horror film (and a homegrown one at that), but to get one from two silly YouTubers who happen to have a firm grasp on their first feature is a real treat.
Saltburn – Emerald Fennell
Barry Keoghan sucking cum out of a drain and dancing naked in his new mansion. Enough said.
And with that, bring on 2024!
