Wind River

Wind River is the kind of film that I had heard great things about on Rotten Tomatoes and some other professional film critics that I follow, but I hadn't seen a single trailer for it and I hadn't really had any expectations built up before I went and saw it just a few days after I got back from a month-and-a-half long trip to Spain. It was one of those films that, while I had expected it to be good, I didn't expect to be as blown away by it as I was. I had seen Taylor Sheridan's two other neo-Western films, Sicario and Hell or High Water, both of which I enjoyed, so I knew he was someone capable of putting together a compelling neo-Western, but unlike those films, he was in the director's seat here and he definitely needed to prove himself to be as good of a director as he is a screenwriter. And he definitely did that here. This is easily one of the best directorial debuts I've ever seen.

The film's title comes from the Wind River Indian Reservation in Wyoming, where the entirety of the film is set. It's a bleak, cold, snow-and-ice-covered place, where the only people who live there don't have anywhere else to go and are suffering because of it. One unique exception to this rule is US Fish and Wildlife Service agent and hunter Cory Lambert, a recently divorced man who lives outside the reservation and knows the land better than almost anyone.

One day, while he's out hunting, he happens to come across the frozen corpse of a local teenage girl named Natalie, who had been the best friend of his deceased daughter. Finding her barefoot, in a nightgown, and with a blood stain on her pants over her groin, he decides to call the Feds to find out whether a murder has transpired, and they arrive in the form of rookie FBI agent Jane Banner, who is completely disoriented by the reservation's unspoken rules and deeply embedded culture clashes that she's almost instantly faced with. 

Once an autopsy is done on Natalie's body, the medical examiner finds evidence of blunt trauma and sexual violence, but is unable to definitively conclude that the cause of death was murder, as she ultimately died from a pulmonary hemorrhage. Now all but prevented from calling an FBI investigative unit, Banner decides to take matters into her own hands and team up with Lambert to help figure out what exactly happened to Natalie: why was she out in the snow, barefoot and in a nightgown? Did she actually run six miles in the snow or was it something else that got her out there?

What follows from here is not your typical "whodunnit" murder mystery, but rather, it's a thrilling, deeply poignant portrait of what life is like on these reservations. Writer/director Sheridan clearly has spent a considerable amount of time on Indian reservations, as the amount of painstaking detail he put into getting every little thing right in this film is stunning. And rather than just physical detail, he also illustrates the psychological issues that are all-too prevalent on reservations, such as alcoholism and culture clashes that can result in primal behavior that can sometimes result in tragedy.

Many of these psychological issues are really brought home during the films quietest moments, such as the scenes between Lambert and Natalie's grieving father, played in a quietly powerful performance by Gil Birmingham. He and Jeremy Renner (who plays Lambert) bring out the best in each other's performances, as they are both grieved by pain from the loss of their daughters to the point where the stock characters they might represent in a typical neo-Western film (the "cowboy" and the "Indian") are rendered all but meaningless.

Renner, in particular, gives what I think is the best performance of his career in this film, a performance that was equal parts Stoic Leading Man and Grieving Father and Justice-Seeking Gunslinger, but done in a way were he never overplayed any of these types. Elizabeth Olsen (who plays Banner) also continues to prove herself as one of the best actresses working today, being totally believable as the rookie FBI agent in way over her head in this part of the world. And the moments when Renner and Olsen are together, especially one scene toward the end of the film, are really quite powerful and understated and show you the natural chemistry that the two of them seem to have together.

But while there are plenty of those quiet moments and subtle commentary about the contemporary Native American struggle on these reservations, Wind River is still very much a thriller -- a slow-burn thriller, but still a thriller with gun battles and one flashback sequence in a trailer that is one of the most intense sequences I've seen in a long time. In many films like this, the director will fill it to the brim with gunfire to the point where you become numb to it, but Sheridan smartly parcels these scenes out so that, when they come, they're all the more powerful and intense.

One of the many things I've wanted to do in recent years is go back and watch old classic Western films. It's not a genre I'm very familiar with, even though I do know many of the stereotypes thanks to other things I have seen. But after watching this film and Sheridan's two other films, I definitely feel like I've seen three great Western films put in a contemporary context. And Wind River in particular, exposed me to a part of the country that I didn't know very much about prior to seeing it, and it painted it in a way that equal parts interesting, respectful, and deeply poignant. This is easily one of the best movies of the year, and it might even be one of the best movies of the last decade. It just went into wide release this weekend, so please go see and support this film. It is truly a masterpiece of filmmaking.

The Book of Henry

This isn't going to be quite the traditional movie review. Being that The Book of Henry isn't anywhere near a traditional movie, I see it fit to write this review in a way that does justice to this unique, bold, and (I think) brave piece of filmmaking.

I guess I'll start at the beginning. I saw the trailer for this movie when it first came out in March. Conveniently, I was lounging at my house over spring break and trying to catch up on things that I hadn't been able to pay much attention to at school. The trailer for this movie was one of those great trailers that made me want to see the movie as soon as I finished watching it.

A few weeks later, when I was back at school, I was randomly searching things online one night and I stumbled across a copy of the screenplay. Considering that, being a screenwriter myself, I love reading scripts for films that I haven't yet seen, I just thought I'd take a glance at it. Then I kept reading. And reading. And reading. And soon enough, I realized that I had read a whole 118-page script in one sitting, something that rarely happens with me. It was truly one of the best screenplays I had ever read, one that breaks nearly every screenwriting rule in the book, but manages to be incredibly compelling and deep and heartbreaking and intense and moving all at once. Immediately after I read it, I wanted to see the movie.

For those who haven't seen or heard of this movie, here's a very brief synopsis: the film is set in a small suburban town where a single mother named Susan Carpenter is raising her two sons, 11-year-old Henry and 8-year-old Peter. Henry is an extremely precocious child genius who acts more as a parent to Susan than she does to him (e.g., he sits and plays video games in her free time while Henry does the finances and keeps the family afloat), but nevertheless, they have a great, loving relationship. They happen to live next door to the police commissioner of their town, who's raising his 12-year-old stepdaughter Christina, a girl that Henry has a not-so-secret crush on. Around the beginning of the film, Henry discovers that Christina is suffering horrible abuse at the hands of her stepfather (thanks to his bedroom window and breaks in the foliage that allow him to see perfectly into Christina's bedroom) and begins mapping an elaborate plan to save her in his private journal.

That's pretty much as far as I want to go in terms of plot synopsis, because one of the joys of watching this film (and reading the script, for me) was discovering all of the unpredictable twists and turns that this movie takes. And boy, does it take some. I have to give credit to the marketing people behind this film for not revealing a major part of the plot in the trailer, as not knowing that part going in gave it a punch-in-the-gut impact when it revealed itself. Given that we now live in a time where the element of surprise when watching a movie is virtually gone, thanks to social media and trailers that give too much of the plot away, it's so refreshing to watch a movie and have literally no idea where it's going.

So I'm going to say something now that might ruffle some feathers among some of my cinephile friends who live and die by what the majority of film critics think (this film does have, as of this writing, a 24% on Rotten Tomatoes): I love this movie. I really, truly, deeply love this movie. It really brought to life everything that was compelling about the script, and that's mostly thanks to the near-perfect casting of every single character. Naomi Watts gives one of the best performances of her career in this film, carrying the film on her back and channeling all of the joys and pains of motherhood throughout its 105-minute running time. Jaeden Lieberher (who I had previously seen as the central character in last year's underrated Midnight Special) is also remarkable as Henry, embodying all of the awkwardness and somberness and genuineness that comes with being both blessed and cursed with extreme precociousness and intelligence. And Jacob Tremblay, who at age 10 has already proven himself to be one of the greatest actors on the face of the Earth, proves once again in this film that he can go toe-to-toe with any veteran adult actor, as evidenced in many of his scenes with Watts in the second half of the film.

And the way that Treverrow uses production design in this movie is great as well. From the bedroom to the treehouse (which didn't exist in the script but was a beautiful addition to the visual design) to the scenery of upstate New York with all of its forests and rivers and tall bridges, he really created the childlike world that I envisioned when reading the script. And his attention to detail is incredibly present in many places throughout, such as having Susan (Naomi Watts' character) playing first-person shooter video games in her offtime (something that was present in the script but not given that much attention) as it not only emphasizes her role as a child in this family, but also provides foreshadowing for what she eventually tries to do.

Now, to address a couple of the things that critics have been tearing this film apart for: yes, this film does commit the "cardinal sin" of not having a consistent tone. No, that does not make this movie "insufferable to watch" as some people have said. Rather, taking the viewer through a broad range of emotions in this timespan, at least for me, resulted in a richer experience. If it had just stayed a family drama or a tearjerker or a thriller throughout, it wouldn't have been nearly as impactful of a film and it wouldn't have done these characters nearly the justice they deserved. So to the people criticizing this film's "tonal juggling act:" that's actually one of the strengths of this film, not one of its weaknesses.

And also, there have been many people calling this film "crass," "schmaltzy," "maudlin," and (perhaps the adjective I've seen most) "emotionally manipulative." A couple of things about this: one, unless someone is directing a single-shot documentary with no non-diegetic music, they are going to be doing a film that manipulates emotions. Every cut, musical cue, and written line of dialogue in a film exists to get the audience to feel a certain way. It's all just a matter of how an individual audience member reacts to this emotional manipulation.

And watching The Book of Henry, I will admit, I got teared up quite a few times toward the middle (for reasons I will not spoil in this review). Certain things happened in this film that made me think a lot about my relationship with my mom and how it is a lot like the relationship between Susan and Henry. It also forced me to reflect on how I, like Henry, had a crush on a certain girl when I was his age. I was deeply concerned that something bad was happening to her and I wanted to help her. I didn't go nearly as far as he did in the film, but I thought about what might have happened if I did. Granted, it turned out years later that nothing bad was happening to her, but the very fact that this film made me think about that and forced me to confront what would have happened if I had done something different goes to show how effective it was in its storytelling.

All of this to say that I think critcizing any film for being "emotionally manipulative" is a lazy cop-out used by people who don't want to admit that an otherwise well-made film just didn't connect with them emotionally. And I will admit, I tend to be a sucker for tearjerker drama films like The Notebook, The Help, Grace is Gone, and Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close just to name a few (note: you read any negative review of any of the above films and they all use the word "manipulative"), but at some point, film critics and everyone who loves and respects art has to accept that just because something didn't connect with you emotionally or make you cry doesn't mean that it won't connect with someone else emotionally and make them cry. There are probably many other people out there like me who would have an emotional, moving experience watching The Book of Henry but who might not ever see it because they read some film critic who called it "crass" or "manipulative" and didn't bother. And that's a shame, because when I walked out of this film I had a whole list of people I wanted to share it with so they could have the same experience that I had, one that I will hold dear to me later this year when I make my top 10 best list.

Because, in short: The Book of Henry is an exceptionally well-made, beautifully-written, and remarkably-acted film, one with three-dimensional characters that I deeply cared about. It is also one of the most daringly original films I've seen in a long time. For an original, non-sequal, non-remake, non-superhero-franchise film (that also happens to be an adult-oriented, character-driven family drama) to come out in the middle of the summer from a Hollywood studio with an all-star cast is something remarkable in and of itself. And not to pile on in my critique of film critics anymore than I already have, but the next time I hear one of them complain about there being "no original ideas" and accuse the film industry of being "creatively bankrupt" among other things, I am simply going to point to this film as an example of the kind of film that Hollywood isn't going to make unless people see it and embrace it. And this is a film that absolutely deserves to be seen and embraced by everyone who cares about original cinema.

I know it's hard for a lot of people to make the effort to go see and support something that has a low Rotten Tomatoes score, but please take my word for it. If you put aside the jaded and cynical parts of yourself and watch this as a film, sentimentality and tonal shifts and all, you will likely find its many gifts. Because it does have many to give. Gifts that aren't going to come unless people accept them and embrace them at the movie theatres. So go and accept them and embrace them, people!

P.S. To those geeks out there who are calling on Colin Treverrow to be fired from Star Wars: Episode IX because of The Book of Henry's negative reviews: please do everyone a favor and get over yourselves. The man has proven himself more than capable of helming a big-budget blockbuster franchise film that achieves both critical and commercial success (hence a 72% on Rotten Tomatoes and its status as the fourth highest-grossing film of all time), and, if you ask me, he has proven himself more than capable of doing emotionally satisfying character-driven stuff as well. And plus, Disney/Lucasfilm would be stupid to fire him at this point in the game given how deep they already are into pre-production on Episode IX. So no, Treverrow is not getting fired from Episode IX. And if you ask me, that's a good thing because I am very much looking forward to seeing what he does with it.

The Blackcoat's Daughter

SCREENED AT THE 2016 CHICAGO CRITICS FILM FESTIVAL: Let me just preface this review by saying that I haven't seen very many "classic" horror films. Having grown up in a house with two parents who will both tell you that they're not fans of the genre, I just wasn't exposed to it much growing up. So when I went to see Oz Perkins' new horror film The Blackcoat's Daughter (originally titled February) at the Chicago Critics Film Festival, I legitimately had no idea what I was getting into. But what I got was one of the most brilliantly constructed, unsettling, and downright creepy films I've seen in a long time, with a lot of genuine thoughtfulness in its screenplay to boot.

The film's opening immediately sets the tone for what's to come as a young girl named Kat, in a dream-like state, imagines her parents picking her up from her all-girls prep school a day early. As she snaps back to reality, we learn that her parents have not arrived to pick her up for winter break, and she, along with another girl named Rose, are the only two girls left at this prep school as everyone else has left. While we have no idea where Kat's parents are, we quickly learn that Rose is purposefully delaying the arrival of her parents over fears that she may be pregnant. Rose, the older of the two girls, is left to take care of Kat until someone arrives to pick one of them up. While you might have an idea of where this is going, especially when you see how dark and cold and creepy this school is, what actually ends up happening is...well, I'll just say unsettling for right now.

There is, however, a subplot involving a young meandering woman named Joan, who gets off a bus in an unknown Upstate New York town where she meets an older couple and tries to hitch a ride with them to a town called Port Smith, which happens to be the town where Kat and Rose go to school. And I'll just leave it right there so I can keep this a spoiler-free review, because, very much like the documentary Nuts!, which I also saw at the Chicago Critics Film Festival, this is a film you want to know as little about going in as possible.

If you google Oz Perkins, one of the first things you'll find out is that he lost his father (Anthony Perkins, aka the original Norman Bates) to AIDS and his mother to 9/11 within almost exactly nine years of each other, so this man is clearly no stranger to despair and it shows in both the directing and storytelling of this film. The way in which Perkins structures this abstract cinematic dream with a haunting sense of dread hooked me immediately and increasingly got under my skin as the film went along. But one of the things he also manages to do is pay some beautiful tributes to the films of Alfred Hitchcock, not the least of which being the one his father starred in, Psycho (there's a couple of tribute shots that literally almost made me applaud). The cinematography by Julie Kirkwood (who's quickly solidifying her presence on the indie scene with films such as Hello, I Must Be Going) perfectly captures the cold emptiness of Upstate New York and of the prep school that constantly haunts the characters, whether they're in it or not.

But perhaps the element of this film that most solidified its presence in my mind long after I saw it was the brilliant performances. Lucy Boynton, who I hadn't even heard of until I developed a crush on her in Sing Street (which I will be reviewing on this blog next week, in preparation for its release on video), brings such a sense of groundedness and normalcy to her role in this film that I never once viewed her as an object like so many horror film actresses are. The scene after she comes back from a night at her boyfriend's and discovers something in the room made me legitimately fear for her, as opposed to rooting for her death like you might in a lesser horror film. Emma Roberts also brings ground to her work as Joan, even though you can tell she has had more experience with these kind of roles (heck, she's even on a TV show called Scream Queens); nonetheless, she has a perfectly keen sense of the world of this story and dials her acting down accordingly. But the real surprise to me came from Kiernan Shipka, who I hadn't seen in anything before this film (yes, I'm the only person on the planet who hasn't watched Mad Men); she legitimately scared the crap out of me with her performance. Either Perkins just got a damn good performance out of her or she just has a knack for playing creepy roles, but there are some scenes toward the end of this movie with her that actually haunted me. And never once did it feel overplayed or trying-too-hard or even remotely bad. Kiernan Shipka, much like Ruby Barnhill in The BFG (a film that deserved much better than it got), is someone I very much look forward to seeing in more roles in the future.

The Blackcoat's Daughter is a horror film that, in many ways, reminded me of the early works of M. Night Shyamalan; a film that relies on atmosphere and ideas and suspence to elicit chills. And while there is blood and gore in this film, what makes it actually effective is that there's only a few occurances of it. It's not just a slasher movie where there's eyeballs and intestines splattering the screen for ninety minutes; the kills are spaced out enough and late enough that they're legitimately shocking when they happen. But either way, this is not a movie about that; rather, it's a film about having to face your past and having to face reality even if it's dreadful and scary to do. And with some great work by terrific young actresses and an incredibly promising debut from Oz Perkins, this is a horror film with a brilliant sense of dread and beautiful, poignant underlying subtext that is absolutely worth seeking out.

The Best Films of 2016

While 2016 may not have been the mega-year for great cinema that 2015 was, there was still plenty of greatness to go around this year. Granted much of that greatness was crammed into the last two months of the year (and, for many, into the first month of 2017), but it still made it fun for me and others to experience it all communally in the darkness of the movie theatre.

Recently, I was asked the question that many people who hear that I'm an aspiring filmmaker tend to ask me: "What are some of your favorite films?" And many are surprised when I respond with relatively recent films that, you could say, haven't stood the test of time as well as bona fide classics like Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark or Back to the Future. But here's the truth: I'm 19 years old (will be 20 next month) and the great films that have come out in my lifetime, the films have spoken to me and to the world that I grew up in and to the world that I make my way in as an adult, are the films that ultimately stayed with me and grew me as a filmmaker and film-lover more than other, older "classic" films. And while I wouldn't take the leap to say that many of the films on my top 10 from 2016 will end up on my all-time favorites list (with the exception of a couple), these are all great films that, on some level, spoke to me and to the world that I make my way in as an adult. So, without further ado, here are my top 10 favorite films from 2016 from 10 to 1:

(NOTE OF CLARIFICATION: I have not yet seen Fences, Lion, or Hell or High Water, but intend to do so very soon...)

10. Moonlight -- I know there's probably a few of you out there right now saying that this is too low, and I was definitely surprised when I was ordering this list and Moonlight, of all films, ended up at only #10. But this is absolutely one of the most remarkable achievements of the year in terms of pure storytelling and telling an incredibly personal tale amidst a background of poverty and suffering and prejudice. In an unusual way, it reminded me of Boyhood set against a world similar to that in the HBO drama The Wire with the same kind of personal, emotional storytelling I loved so much in Fruitvale Station from a few years back. The three young men who played the lead role blend perfectly together as the same person in three different decades, and Mahershala Ali is absolutely deserving of all of the Oscar buzz you're hearing about right now. Naomie Harris and Janelle Monae also give a good amount of heft to their (albeit slightly underwritten) roles as Chiron's mother and Juan's girlfriend, respectively. So while I do think this might rise up on my list with repeated viewings (I've only seen it once, when it first came out in Chicago back in November), it's staying at #10 on my list, if only to show just how many great films there were this past year.

9. Hidden Figures -- One of the most unabashed crowd-pleasers of recent years, this film tells a beautiful and remarkable true story of three women of color who overcame the odds to become mathematicians at NASA. Janelle Monae proves herself once again to be an actress of remarkable talent in an amazingly well-written role that fits her style and sensibilities perfectly, and Octavia Spencer earns her second Oscar nomination for her understated performance as well. Taraji P. Henson, Kevin Costner, and Jim Parsons (yes, Sheldon from Big Bang Theory) kill in all of their roles as well (this won Best Ensemble at the SAG Awards last night for a reason). I recently read a column in the Chicago Tribune that said every student in the 3rd-12th grade should be required to see this movie. I couldn't agree more.

8. Loving -- Set around the same time period as Hidden Figures, Loving tells a story of two people fighting for the right to be married in the most un-Oscar-baity way imagineable. Writer-director Jeff Nichols (one of the best indie filmmakers of the past 16 years, whose films include such overlooked masterpieces as Take Shelter, Mud, and this year's Midnight Special, which just missed my top 10) takes this painful but important civil-rights story and lets it speak for itself in a beautifully understated voice. Rather than having big self-important speeches and montages of the civil-rights battles of the time, Nichols shines his spotlight solely on Richard and Mildred Loving and their love for each other and how they just want to be able to live their lives as husband and wife with their children. Ruth Negga's performance as the sensitive but strong Mildred is one of the most beautiful performances of the year and stands toe-to-toe with all the amazing female performances in Hidden Figures. Edgarton also shines as the simple-minded Richard and he reminded me of why I fell in love with him as an actor in the first place (back in 2011 when he co-starred in Warrior with Tom Hardy). And Nichols' muse, Michael Shannon, kills in his all-too-brief cameo as a photographer for Life magazine. Jeff Nichols is a true American treasure and this film proves once again how amazing and wonderful his sensibility is. It's not quite the heartwarming feel-good civil-rights drama that Hidden Figures is, but it's still a necessary film that should absolutely be sought out.

7. The Edge of Seventeen -- Anybody who knows me knows that I am a sucker for coming-of-age movies. Films like The Perks of Being a Wallflower and Boyhood and last year's period piece coming-of-age story Brooklyn are all films that moved me and spoke to my own experiences in different ways. Kelly Fremon Craig's remarkable debut feature can stand toe-to-toe with any of these films as a beautiful, heartwarming, and unexpectedly moving coming-of-age story about a depressed, socially anxious high school junior (played in a profoundly real performance by Hailee Steinfeld, in her best role since 2010's True Grit) whose social life spirals out of control when her best friend begins dating her older brother. Woody Harrelson steals every one of his too-few scenes as Steinfeld's history teacher, and Kyra Sedgwick nails her role as the emotionally unstable mother. But what ultimately makes this film so special is that it succeeds where so many movies about high school fail, and that it places the viewer in that mindset that everything that happens in high school will determine the rest of your life while having the maturity to know just how histrionic all that "drama" really is in retrospect.

6. Nuts! -- An all-too-overlooked and forgotten documentary masterpiece from earlier this year that you can read all my thoughts on here, this movie lives up to its title in the best possible way, telling a story that has to be seen to be believed. That's all I will say, as the best way to watch this movie is knowing absolutely nothing about it (that's exactly how I saw it, anyway). It's available to watch on Amazon Prime now, and it absolutely needs to be seen.

5. Life, Animated -- One of the most emotional movie-watching experiences I've had in a theatre this year, this documentary about autism and the magic of movies is the best documentary of 2016 in my opinion (I still haven't watched all of OJ: Made in America yet) and you can read all of my thoughts on it here. Put simply: as someone with an autism spectrum disorder (Asperger's, to be specific) and as someone who grew up watching and loving Disney animated films, this movie spoke to me on so many personal levels, and I am so thankful the Oscar Documentary voters didn't forget about it when making nominations. This, like Nuts!, is currently available on Amazon Prime, and should be required viewing for every single human being who is a child, has a child, or has ever been a child.

4. Manchester By The Sea -- I have to say, this is one movie this year that, while deserving every inch of praise that's been heaped upon it, is being talked about in a way that's not helping people to go see it. Because of the fact that it's about a depressed man suffering from PTSD who is forced to take care of his teenage nephew after the boy's father dies, the word "depressing" has become attached to this movie in a way that I don't believe it deserves to. Yes, there are absolutely parts of this film that are heartbreaking and that will hit viewers hard who have ever had to deal with the loss of people who are close to them, but what I ultimately took from this movie is, strangely enough, hope. It's a film about persevering through all the crap that life throws at you and about being able to break down your walls in order to do what is right in times of tragedy and suffering. And the way that writer/director Kenneth Lonergan (whose past films include other indie dramas such as You Can Count on Me and Margaret) writes this movie and films this movie is so intimate that it literally feels like you're watching scenes from real life. He adds just the right amount of levity/comic relief so it doesn't get too bogged down and still feels realistic. And this is further elevated by absolutely brilliant performances from Casey Affleck (who deserves his all-but-guaranteed Best Actor Oscar) and Lucas Hedges as well as Michelle Williams, whose one heartbreaking scene is the reason she's nominated for Best Supporting Actress this year. Reminding me in the best way possible of my other favorite indie dramas of the last 10 years like Grace is Gone and Fruitvale Station, Manchester by the Sea is a film that grabbed a hold of me when I first saw it back in December and has never let go since. And regardless of what you might be hearing from others, this is not a film of depression. This is a film of hope.

3. Sing Street -- Yet another criminally overlooked film that came out earlier this year and was then forgotten about. While not quite on the same emotional level as Moonlight or Manchester by the Sea, this is still one of the most joyous cinematic experiences I've had in many years. A relatively simple coming-of-age story (yes, another coming-of-age movie, I know) about a fifteen-year-old boy who meets a girl and tells her that he's in a band (which results in him then having to actually form a band), writer/director John Carney (of Once and Begin Again) packs every inch of this movie with heart and energy and joy and great music, as well as successfully putting the viewer in the mind of this boy so that you're on the same emotional wavelength as him throughout. You can read the rest of my many thoughts about this film here, but it is on Netflix right now and should absolutely be watched by everyone who loves fun and joy and, yes, great music.

2. A Monster Calls -- And now we go from a criminally overlooked film from earlier this year to a criminally overlooked film from this awards season. While A Monster Calls was ignored by both the Oscars and moviegoers as a whole (to date, it has grossed $41 million on a $43 million dollar budget, and less than 10% of that gross was from the U.S.), this is still the most emotional experience I had in a theatre watching a movie from 2016. Yet another coming-of-age movie on my list, this tells the story of a 12-year-old boy with a terminally-ill mother who has nightly visions of a tree monster coming to visit him and telling him parables to help him cope with this tragic episode in his life. While this is a family film in the sense that it has a CGI tree monster (brilliantly voiced by Liam Neeson) and parables that are told via sequences of beautiful animation, this is a challenging family film in the style of Where the Wild Things Are and Inside Out in the sense that it doesn't treat children as dumb or fragile, it's not afraid to tackle hard questions that any child who has ever had to deal with death has had to face, and it's also not afraid to answer them honestly and in a way that respects the intelligence of its audience. Felicity Jones and Sigourney Weaver both give stellar performances as the main character's mother and grandmother (respectively), and newcomer Lewis MacDougall (whose only previous credit was 2015's Pan) gives a heartbreaking performance as the main character Conor, perfectly channeling the sadness and anger that every 12-year-old faces at one point or another. I teared up a good four times during the running time of this movie, and I teared up again right after I saw it when I received news of a very close person in my life being diagnosed with breast cancer (she's doing okay now, thank God). I really hope people come to discover this movie on HBO or Netflix or any other streaming platform (or DVD/Blu-ray, if that's still what you do), because this is one of most powerful films about grief and dealing with death that I have ever seen, but, like Manchester by the Sea, it's ultimately a movie about hope and moving forward. So...yes, please do whatever you can to see this.

And...1. La La Land -- Those who are a part of my circle of family/close friends know that I have not been able to stop talking about this film since I first saw it on Christmas Day, and I will not stop talking about it until every single person on the planet has experienced this beautiful, joyous masterpiece of filmmaking. I love freaking everything about this movie, all the way down from the opening musical number, which immediately threw me into its fantastical world, to the wonderfully committed performances of Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone, who I love even more now after this film. While yes, I know the plot itself isn't particularly exciting, the whole point of this film is that Sebastian and Mia (Gosling and Stone's characters) are both incredibly passionate people. They're dreamers and they want to do whatever they have to do to follow their dreams. As someone who's been passionate about filmmaking and storytelling since I was seven-years-old, and is currently spending thousands of dollars to go to DePaul University film school just so I can follow my dream of writing and directing indie films, I can absolutely relate to the mindset of these two people. Writer/director Damien Chazelle perfectly understands this and made this film for people who feel like this, as also evidenced by the amount of passion and love he put into every freaking inch of this screenplay and production. The first thing I said after walking out of this film the first time (and second time) was, "This is a love letter to everything that I love." And it's true. It's a film about the beauty and importance of storytelling, it's a film about love, it's a film about being a dreamer in a cynical you-need-to-make-money world, but it's also a film about reality, about the fact that not everything always gets wrapped up in a nice neat bow. And while I know that that's not something that everybody likes to hear in movies...well, that's the truth, and the truth ain't always pretty. All of the musical numbers in this film are brilliant, and while I know that Gosling and Stone aren't professionally-trained singers/dancers, they still do a fine job (particularly Stone, who belts out one particular number beautifully). This film deserves every single Oscar it is nominated for, and it deserves to be remembered years from now as one of the greatest films of the 21st century, a film of beauty, love, hope, passion, and dreams. This is a perfect, brilliant, joyous, moving, and poignant movie on every single level. "Here's to the ones who dream...foolish as they may seem..."

And, for anyone who's curious, here's ten films that just missed the cut for my top 10 (the ones that are hyperlinked are ones I reviewed over the summer):

Arrival

Silence

Hacksaw Ridge

Kubo and the Two Strings

Midnight Special

The BFG

The Nice Guys

Morris from America

Love & Friendship

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (just for the last 40 minutes)