MJ's View. 10 BEST MOVIES of the 21st CENTURY...that I've seen (so far).

Okay, I voted.

The New York Times is compiling a list of the "100 Best Movies of the 21st Century," according to select directors, actors, producers; and another voted for by "fans" (shades of the MLB All-Star ballot?). But each fan ballot only allowed ten selections, which is challenging for a moviegoer like me. I've seen a lot of films in the past quarter-century, so narrowing the list down to a "10 Best" is damn near impossible, if not somewhat transitional. By the end of this year, my list may shift a bit.

Who knows?

Like many recent pop culture "lists" (I receive multiple notifications daily for stories of one sort or another), the Times list seems intent to provoke polite discussion but nothing really substantive about the importance of cinema: there were no criteria to vote. Just your opinion of "best."

Ever the movie geek, I felt compelled to at least have a loose set of standards by which I chose my ten best, not just the ones I liked, which would be a very different list, and maybe even the topic for a future MJ blog post.

My short list of considerations as I quickly (I cast my ballot in less than ten minutes) made a list of ten "best" movies included the following:

• Movies I've seen.

• Movies that were critically acclaimed (re: award-winning).

• Movies challenged traditional cinematic norms in terms of storytelling, genre-crossing, and subject matter.

• Movies that continue to inspire conversation within current cinematic circles.

  Have these movies had an impact? In a few cases (i.e., Emilia Pérez and Sinners), it may be too soon to tell, though I'm fairly certain we'll see numerous genre-bending crossovers in the next few years.

  
  

Using that modest set of criteria, I would argue that really great films like Oppenheimer didn't make the list because, despite great acting and storytelling, there really wasn't anything compelling in terms of filmmaking. Oppy was really just a very good biopic. Nothing wrong with this, just not in my top ten. Ditto Lincoln - great performance from Daniel Day Lewis, but nothing special in terms of groundbreaking cinema. Barbie was the most difficult one not to include, not because it wasn't deserving, but some of the other choices seemed stronger in terms of a "best" movie.

Alright. Alright. Alright. You've got my ballot above, so read on for more detail on my choices. At the end, I've revealed which of the ten were absolute inclusions (the others were negotiable), and I've added a second list of some very close runners-up, 'cause, you know...you can't really just pick ten when it comes to movies. Geez.

Please note: As of this writing, I have not looked at the final NYTimes list, as I did not want to be influenced by other ballots.

Moonlight (2016)

This movie may be best remembered as part of the Warren Beatty-Faye Dunaway mix-up at the 2017 Oscars, reading La La Land as the winner (Dunaway had mistakenly been given the Best Actress back-up envelope, for which Emma Stone had earlier received the award). After some fumbling and mea culpa-ing, host Jimmy Kimmel smoothly brought out the correct envelope, announcing Moonlight as the real Best Picture winner.

The little movie that could - and did - Barry Jenkins' evocative coming-of-age drama unfolds in three stages of a young black man's life: childhood, adolesence, and early adulthood. Based on Tarell Alvin McCraney's unpublished (semi-autobiographical play) In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue, Moonlight also explores themes of racism, homosexuality, drug abuse, single parenthood in Miami's black community, and finding one's identity admist a myriad of obstacles.

Mahershala Ali, who plays a drug dealer named Juan and becomes a father figure for the impressionable Chiron, won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar. The movie also won Best Adapted Screenplay along with Best Picture. It was/is groundbreaking in its very personal approach to storytelling in the black community, shattering stereotypes while also exploring prevalent problems and behavior associated with specific culture groups in much the same way that last year's Nickel Boys examined two individual stories of black teenagers admist the backdrop of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement.

Moonlight is currently available to stream on Prime Video and AppleTV.

Before Sunset (2004)

The first entry on my list from writer-director Richard Linklater is the second in what is now known as his "Before" Trilogy, bookended by 1995's Before Sunrise and 2013's Before Midnight. The enduring love story of American writer Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and French activist Céline (Julie Delpy) plays out in real time (the three films were made nine years apart), each one depicting a different phase in their relationship: their first meeting as college students on a train to Vienna, their reunion in Paris, and their vacation in Greece.

Hawke and Delpy became collaborators with Linklater on the last two installments and were nominated in the Best Adapted Screenplay category for both. Though the dialogue is often thought to be improvisational, the detailed rapport between the two lovers is really a carefully choreographed tête-à-tête or, perhaps more appropriately, un coeur-de-coeur between two individuals whose physical attraction is deftly buoyed by their intellectual and spiritual connections.

They flirt, spar, chide each other, as they address the nine years that have passed: what has happened to both, their disappointments and achievements, their disillusions and renewed hope upon seeing each other again. I never tire of being an interloper to their extended conversation, a cinematic voyeur seeing parallels to my own life and, for a moment, juxtaposing my own experiences against theirs.

When Before Sunset was first released, I was so blown way by its intimacy, so taken by the natural way Hawke and Delpy perform their affectionate pas-de-deux that I went to see the movie three Sundays in a row. Each time, I saw something new, remember something else about my own life, and then I'd spend the next week thinking about how movies can sometimes just reach out and capture your heart.

Lest you think this is just MJ's romantic fantasy playing out here, a word about the brilliance of this film and why I've included it here. In forging a second installment to 1995's Before Sunset, Linklater has done more than simply craft a sequel. He has successfully delved into the two characters' personal growth and development and, in doing so, begun what may be one of his signature themes: how the passing of time impacts us all. Through the "Before" Trilogy, we can feel and experience Jesse and Céline's journey as a couple, alongside the individual differences that give their partnership depth and meaning.

Watch all three, if you can. The story of Jesse and Céline is romantic, without being sappy, honest, without digressing into cliché, and tender without becoming maudlin. Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight are available on Prime Video (and the three together have a running time that is shorter than 2024's The Brualist).

Emilia Pérez (2024)

I must admit I couldn't stop watching Emilia on a Saturday afternoon last fall. It didn't have much of a theatrical run here in Chicago and quickly moved to streaming, so I figured I could watch it, pause and take care of weekend chores, and then return to the story. I didn't. I sat transfixed from beginning to end. I still can't figure out its limited theatrical run, as it arrived with considerable critical acclaim (and later, equally critical commentary about the film's star, Karla Sofía Gascón, the film's depiction of the gay community, and more).

Groundbreaking on many levels - from its genre-breaking appraoch to storytelling as a "transgender mobster musical" to its global construction (directed by French auteur Jacques Audiard, filmed in Spanish with an international cast, and starring a transgender actor in the titular role), Emilia Pérez was as stunning visually as it was provocative in its narrative. It will be interesting to see the impact of Emilia on filmmaking- because and in spite - of the subsequent controversy that plagued the film: accusations of racism against Gascón allegedly based on old social media posts, protests from the LGBTQ+ community about gender stereotypes and not filming in Mexico (where much of the story takes place), Audiard's reportedly hostile behavior on set. Its audacious approach to storytelling is unique for a tale that is essentially about love. Audiard's utilization of universal themes about the human condition, set against the back-drop of hatred against the gay community, deserve further exploration and exposure.

Like Moonlight and Call Me By Your Name, Emilia Pérez continues to expand themes about sexuality and self-discovery in broad, yet intimate ways that include a greater variety of issues, challenges, and outcomes. Though probably not for everybody, Emilia Pérez is one of the most exuberant celebrations of life, one that digs deeply, introspectively into the motivations that drive us all. In the end, Emilia Pérez is a triumph, a festiva of life and finding one's purpose.

Emilia Pérez currently streams on Netflix.

If you haven't done so, check out MJ's review from last fall: https://www.mjthemovies.com/post/review-emilia-pérez-listen-écoute-this-audacious-genre-crossing-film-will-steal-your-heart

Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019)

I couldn't have a list of "10 Best" without including something from QT (that's Quentin Tarantino), and there were others - 2009's Inglourious Basterds and 2012's Django Unchained - that certainly deserved consideration, as both yielded multiple Oscars (Supporting Actor in both for Christolph Waltz and Original Screenplay for Quentin Tarantino's Django). Both were controversial, even sacriligious, in their approach to delicate subjects - the Holocaust and American slavery.

But Hollywood is something special: a sweeping love letter from QT to LA (Los Angeles), an imaginative "what if?" that dabbles in historical revision while paying homage to La La Land in the late 1960s. Every detail in this film is spot on - from Cliff Booth's (Oscar winner Brad Pitt) joy ride down Sunset Boulevard past the iconic Cinerama Theater to Rick Dalton's (Leonardo di Caprio) flamethrowing poolside finale - all carefully crafted with authenticity and a genuine love for moviemaking and the film industry (including actors and stunt people).

On my own list of Tarantino favorites, I'd rate Hollywood right after my #1, Pulp Fiction, for its innovative storytelling, irreverent humor (re: the Charles Manson cult hovers ominously over the narrative), and epic view of Hollywood: how celebrities are elevated like royalty, only to be consumed by their own popularity and the status of others. In particular, the bromance between Pitt as stunt double to DiCaprio's fading TV star - is funny and touching. No wonder that Brad quipped, upon receiving a Golden Globe for his performance, "Leo, I would've shared the raft," a reference to the long-standing, heartbreaking question over how Jack Dawson (DiCaprio) met demise in the 1997 blockbuster, Titanic.

Pitt had me at hello on this one. Wait. That's a line from Tom Cruise's Jerry Maguire. Maybe a reunion next with Brad and Tom, thirty years after their only pairing in Interview With The Vampire? Hmm...yummy.

Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood streams on Prime Video, AppleTV and Fubo.

Sinners (2025)

Though this is a very recent entry among the century's best, I would argue that my selection is not premature. Although no awards have been bestowed yet, I anticipate significant recognition for Ryan Coogler's epic genre-bending tale when awards season begins later this year. Buoyed by a charismatic dual performance from frequent artistic collaborator Michael B. Jordan, Sinners seamlessly weaves strands of guitarist Robert Johnson's "deal with the devil" blues legacy with themes of racism, voodoo, horror and love.

The result is a stunning "can't-take-your-eyes-off" experience that merits repeated viewings. There's much going on here, and not just visually. Coogler takes viewers on a layered, nuanced journey that celebrates music, life, and the spiritual ties that bind us.

In one, sure-to-be classic scene, music and dances from different generations come together in one joyously rousing barn celebration that underscores the inter-connectedness of people and time. Don't miss it.

Sinners streams on MAX (beginning July 4) and is already available on AppleTV.

And don'dt forget to check out MJ's review: https://www.mjthemovies.com/post/review-sinners-is-a-mesmerizing-wickedly-good-genre-crossing-triumph

Parasite (2019)

I'll admit that I've included Bong Joon Ho's unique, genre-crossing movie here because, as a "best" of film list, it needs to be here. But I really didn't like it. Not sure why. Ho's story, his effortless back-and-forth between dark comedy, thriller, horror story, and social commentary contains all the movie ingredients I look for.

But as innovative and unique a move as it is, Parasite just didn't quite grab me in a way that encouraged multiple viewings... and that is a personal criterion: Would I see the movie again? In this case, probably not, though the film's multiple Oscars (and other awards, though none for acting), is testament to its place as an international crossover film that confirms the global power - and culturally unifying force - of movies.

If you've never seen Parasite, it is worth a look...but if you prefer your stories conventional and the outcomes expected, you may be more frustrated than fulfilled with the experience. Parasite is not for the faint of heart or the rigid-minded. But it is a beautifully crafted, innovative piece of filmmaking.

Parasite can be found on multiple streaming platforms, including Netflix, Prime Video, AppleTV, MAX and others.

Match Point (2005)

I couldn't have a "Ten Best" list without a Woody Allen movie and, though his filmmaking career is likely nearing its end (Allen will be 90 this December), he continues to explore, expose, and inspire themes about life and the choices we make. Though I probably enjoyed Midnight in Paris more (it's on my "Runners-Up" list below), I've gone with Match Point because it captures Allen's essential themes about the existential choices we all make, and the consequences that may come as a result.

His repeated use of the image of a tennis ball, suspended in the air as it hits the top of the net, waivering as we wonder which way the ball will drop, is the perfect metaphor for life and the choices we make... or don't.

In a departure from his usual wry comedies (and more in the tradition of 1989's Crimes and Misdemeanors), Allen deftly crafts a psychological thriller that examines the roles lust, money, power, and luck play in life. The story of a former tennis star (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) whose social position when he marres into a weathy family is threatened when he has an affair with his brother-in-law's girlfriend (Scarlett Johansson) is riveting from start to finish, a affirmation that Allen's enduring cinematic genius goes far beyond (and, in spite of) unfounded accusations made about him during the #MeToo movement.

I've been re-watching Allen's movies of late, perhaps in response to my complete disinterest in another Marvel Comics movie, and Match Point is on the short list coming up for review again soon. If you have not seen it (or think it's similar to some of Allen's early, neurotic screwball comedies), you might be surprised at the subtle, intellectually nuanced questions his raises about life: is it the sum of our choices... or maybe just a random series of events?

For someone like me who has seen all of Allen's films multiple times...well, maybe not September or The Curse of the Jade Scorpion, I would argue that Match Point is a brilliant representation of Allen's existentialism, an example of mature storytelling that raises essential philosophical questions about life, ultimately, a movie that gives the audience something to ponder after the credits role.

Match Point is streaming on several platforms, including AppleTV, Peacock, Fubo and Prime Video.

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (2022)

I'm not a huge fan of animation, but del Toro's Pinocchio blew me away. Not a children's film by a longshot, instead, a probing examination of what it means to be human: to have and to make choices. Staying closer to the story's original theme than Disney's more familiar, 1940 animated musicial version, del Toro continues to explore his own fascination with "misfits" similar to those found in his other works: Pan's Labyrinth, The Shape of Water, Hellboy and Nightmare Alley.

His desire to comprehend the "monster" in all of us, deftly combining fantasy and fairy tale with gothic images of horror, is its own topic for research and review. Here, the character of Pinocchio becomes a kind of metaphor for all of us wanting to have a happy existence without the burden of chance, pain, or death. Consequences - intended and "un" - are all part of the human experience, and del Toro uses stop-motion animation to lead us through a dark, deeply personal adventure (del Toro has expressed a strong connection to the title character and dedicated the film to his parents), that opened new possibilities for animation in film.

Since Pinocchio's release in 2022, countless new movies have used animation to explore more adult themes, with last year's If, the Oscar-nominated The Wild Robot, and the year's Oscar winner Flow, among the most popular examples influeced by del Toro's mixture of other-worldliness with themes about life and finding one's path.

I'm not sure I can articulate precisely why Pinocchio has stayed with me as it has. Much like del Toro's earlier Oscar winner The Shape of Water, I felt an inherent connection to his misfits: those outsiders who, for one reason or another - physical, intellectual, or spiritual - always a bit out of step with the majority, looking in rather than being a part of a family or community. It's not accidental that del Toro's own countenance - a wide open face covered by very thick glass, much like Water's Creature - becomes a stand-in for the characters through whose eyes we view the world.

When Pinocchio's mentor, the Cricket (no Jimminy here), tells him that, in life, "What happens happens...and then we're gone," I couldn't help by marvel at how effectively del Toro used the simple tale of a puppet-turned-boy facing the essential realities of life to illustrate more profound realities about being human. One moment we're here; the next we're not.

It is a simultaneously chilling and life-affirming statement that calls us to look up and live.

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is streaming on Netflix.

Call Me By Your Name (2017)

Besides making Timothée Hal Chalamet a star and giving him his first Oscar nomination for Best Actor, Call Me By Your Name is a poignant coming-of-age story (Are we seeing a theme here?) that synthesizes the traditional notion of young Greek male love with a young man's search for his own sexual identity.

Set in Northern Italy in the summer of 1983 and based on André Aciman's 2007 novel of the same name, Call Me By Your Name is the third in director Luca Guadagnino's thematic "desire" trilogy. The first two, lesser celebrated, movies were 2009's I Am Love and 2015's Bigger Splash. But Call Me glimmered among film critics and audiences alike, receving standing ovations at its Sundance Film Festival premiere and, later, a record-breaking ten-minute ovation at the New York Film Festival. Both reactions were well-deserved.

Guardagnino's ability to capture young Elio's (Chalamet) sense of isolation and longing during a summer abroad with his archaeologist father, as he begins to develop an attachment to an older graduate student named Oliver (Armie Hammer), may be one of the most exquisitely lyrical expressions of the transformative power and lasting influence of first love on screen to date. Chalamet and Hammer's inspired performances heighten the movie's themes of desire and longing, expanding the scope of their story to one that is both intimate and universal.

I've seen this movie more than once and, each time, I am transported to an earlier time in my life, remembering the impact of first love and the way in which relationships can shape and form who we are. Like Annie Hall and Out of Africa, two 20th century movies that are on my short list of best/favorites (along with Pulp Fiction), Call Me By Your Name is a comfort movie, one I revisit whenever I need to remember people and experiences who did (and do) matter.

Call Me By Your Name streams on MAX, Prime Video and AppleTV.

Boyhood (2014)

Hands down (sorry, Birdman fans), Boyhood gets my vote for the century's "best of the best" for its simple, but stunning treatise on time, growing up, finding your way. Unlike most coming-of-age movies that typically use several actors to show aging over time (Moonlight used three different actors to play Chiron), writer-director Richard Linklater filmed his story over a 12-year period, using all the same actors, especially his exquisite protagonist Mason (Ellar Coltrane).

Not only do we observe Mason's journey, we see the impact of his life on his siblings, his parents (Patricia Arquette, who won a Supporting Actress Oscar for this film, and Ethan Hawke, a Linklater mainstay), his friends. In one memorable scene near the movie's end, as Mason prepares to leave for college, he finds his mother sitting at the kitchen table looking a bit melancholy. When he probes a bit to find out the source of her sadness, she responds that her life has been a series of his markers: birth, first steps, starting school, graduating high school, etc.

She's fearful that the rest of her life will be viewed through his important moments, not hers. It's a deeply thoughtful and moving exchange between mother and son, but also a reminder how we view ourselves in the grander scope of time, in the lives of others, and within ourselves. Are our lives determined by a series of random moments? Do we seize the day or, as Mason's new college friend so aptly observes at movie's end, is it the other way around? Does the moment seize us?

Though a handful of critics thought Linklater's extended length of a filming timeline made the movie more of a gimmick, Boyhood is no one-trick pony. Linklater uses the twelve year filming schedule to do more than show natural aging (though we do clearly see the physical changes in parents Hawke and Arquette). He frames every visit in Mason's journey with questions about life and relationships and infuses both a sense of urgency with time alongside a suggestion that we all ought to value the moment we are in more than whatever may or may not come later. It's an interesting, provocative approach to finding one's identity, to being comfortable in your own skin and to enjoying the time we are alive.

Because life is a constant: the moments...it's like it's always right now, you know? After all, what happens happens.... and then we're gone.

Boyhood is streaming on Prime Video and PlutoTV.

If you're reading between the lines (or maybe just carefully reading?) while reviewing my ballot, you've probably noticed themes about love: first love, self-love, lost love, love reimagined. I suppose some might think my selections frivolous, perhaps lacking in the kinds of gravitas that politically-themed historical dramas or abstract musings about power might contain.

But, in the spirit of writer-director Celine Song, I must say that, if love isn't important, what is?

See you at the movies.

*******

PS In case you're wondering, the movies that were absolutely essential on my "best" list were Boyhood, Call Me By Your Name, Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio, Emilia Pérez, and Before Sunset. Any of the others could have been switched for the runners-up below, my coulda/woulda/shoulda been on this list (and maybe the topic of a future blog post):

Barbie (2023) Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Banshees of Inisherin (2022) La La Land (2016))

No Country For Old Men (2007) Midnight in Paris (2011)

The Shape of Water (2017) BlacKkKlansman (2018)

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) Brokeback Mountain (2005)

And let's not forget...Mullholland Drive (2001).