There really isn't anything to be said about the year 2020 that hasn't already been said numerous other times. It is certainly not an understatement to say that it was the most unusual year for cinema (and in general) of my lifetime, and for the first time since I started compiling these end-of-the-year film lists, I saw the vast majority of my favorite films of the year at home. As someone who is extremely passionate about the theatrical moviegoing experience, it is incredibly heartbreaking to even type those words, and I can only pray that theatrical moviegoing will resume in earnest sooner rather than later. Nevertheless, I did get to have some great theater experiences in the first three-and-a-half months of 2020, mostly thanks to my experience working at the Sundance Film Festival last year, where I saw over fifteen movies (some of which are mentioned below) and made some really great connections. And even once theatrical moviegoing stopped and films began being pushed to 2021 or released direct-to-streaming, there were still some really great movies that came out of 2020, and I ended up having a more difficult time than I thought I would ranking the films below. That said, I do feel like this is a very strong top 15 that represents both the range and diversity of the films that spoke to me this year (including nine films that were directed or co-directed by women and/or POC), as well as the different ways that said films spoke to me.
Before I get into my top 15, here's a list of 15 films from 2020 that I have NOT yet seen but definitely want to as soon as possible:
Nomadland
The Nest
Bacurau
Beanpole
One Night in Miami
Dick Johnson is Dead
Promising Young Woman
I'm Thinking of Ending Things
Ma Rainey's Black Bottom
News of the World
On the Rocks
Spontaneous
Wolfwalkers
Fourteen
Athlete A
Now as I say every year now, these 15 films I'm about to list (and the order in which I list them) may not be what some would consider the BEST films of 2020; but rather, they are my personal FAVORITE films that, for one reason or another, impacted me as a film reviewer and as an aspiring filmmaker and that, in my opinion, speak in some way to the broader world we all live in. So, without further ado, here are my top 15 favorite films of 2020 from 15 to 1:
#15. The Outpost -- Easily one of the biggest surprises of the movie year, I'll admit that I had not even heard of this film until it was released on VOD this past summer. But when I did watch it, I found it to be a very painful and exhilarating true-life war story that is also the best cinematic depiction of the recent military conflicts in the Middle East since The Hurt Locker, one that I'm sure would have been stunning to experience in a theatrical setting. Specifically depicting the Battle of Kamdesh, one of the bloodiest battles of the entire War in Afghanistan, The Outpost succeeds wonderfully in depicting both the heroism of American soldiers and the occasional real-life military incompetence that unnecessarily puts them in danger. From the first title card at this film's beginning, there is a real sense of dread that hangs over it, as we see our soldiers' outpost in a valley surrounded by mountains where they are sitting ducks for the Taliban insurgents, and tensions rise as they face almost-routine attacks from the Taliban before the all-out ambush that results in the film's central battle. Director Rod Lurie (himself a West Point graduate and military veteran) gives this film a visceral documentary aesthetic that embeds itself in every inch of this film, from the interactions between the soldiers in their quarters (which are sharply and authentically scripted by writers Paul Tamasy and Eric Johnson) to the central battle sequence, which is astounding on a technical level and shows an incredibly intricate attention to detail. And this attention to detail shows in the film's performances as well. While it is very easy in ensemble war films like this to make these soldiers interchangeable, Lurie made sure to cast capable actors for the leads who could help to distinguish these men and make the audience care about them, and it pays off beautifully with both Scott Eastwood and Caleb Landry Jones giving the best performances of their respective careers as the heroes of this battle. Eastwood displays leadership and a steady confidence in his role that is as compelling as many of his father's early roles, but Jones is truly this film's heart and soul, as he essentially serves as the stand-in for all the ordinary men and women who weren't exactly cut out for battle but nevertheless became heroes through extraordinary courage, bravery, and love for his fellow soldiers. While many parts are painful to watch, this is still absolutely one of the best modern war movies in years, with a beautifully cathartic gut-punch of an ending that it completely earns, and one that should definitely be seen by everyone (this is currently streaming on Netflix).
#14. Emma. -- Just two weeks before the pandemic shut down movie theatres across the world, I was lucky enough to get to see this sweet, lovely, and all-around gorgeous Jane Austen adaptation at the AMC River East 21 in Chicago. While the story should certainly be familiar to everyone familiar with Austen's classic novel and the numerous film adaptations of it (and, yes, that includes Clueless), this incarnation of Emma still manages to have a fresh, modern feel throughout, similar to the approach that Greta Gerwig took with her adaptation of Little Women. And although this is certainly not the absolute artistic masterpiece that Gerwig's Little Women is, it is still very much a great film in its own right, made with a clear affection for both Austen and the characters that inhabit her world and the same warmth and beauty that no Austen adaptation can be complete without. The film's first-time director Autumn de Wilde got her start in the world of photography, and it definitely shows here, as every frame of this movie is crafted with a master photographer's precision, and the color scheme does a lot to make this film pop even in unexpected places. But the true reason this film has stuck with me almost a whole year later (besides the normally brilliant writing and storytelling of Jane Austen) is Anya Taylor-Joy. While most people reading this now likely know of her thanks to her magnificent performance as Beth Harmon in The Queen's Gambit (aka the best TV miniseries I've ever seen), this is a very different side of her, one that displays a knack for subtle, understated comedy, but she still gives a wonderful commanding lead performance that draws you in from the very beginning and keeps you the whole way. Along with an excellent supporting cast that includes a very charming Johnny Flynn as the male love interest, a perfectly-cast Mia Goth, and the always-welcome-and-funny Bill Nighy, this is about as close to a perfect Jane Austen adaptation as one could get in 2020, and certainly one of the most charming comedies of the year (this is currently streaming on HBO Max).
#13. The Vast of Night -- Like The Outpost above, this was a film that I hadn't heard anything about before it came on Amazon Prime this past summer, and it is truly one of the most unique and engaging films I saw in 2020, one that makes amazing use of its low-budget and delivers a truly special science-fiction story. While I was never a kid that grew up watching The Twilight Zone or anything of that sort, supernatural mystery stories like those on that show have always fascinated me, so from the opening shot and voiceover that established this film as being an episode of a fictional Twilight Zone-esque show, I was hooked. And then it takes us right into its fictional New Mexico town, establishing the period, location, characters, situations, and all other relevant establishing information in one long tracking shot that could have easily been a cheap show-off move but instead is engaging and natural in a really unexpected and fantastic way. And then the central mystery is revealed, as these two lonely, geeky high school students discover a mysterious radio frequency that they follow for the rest of their evening and that ends up changing everything for them. What follows is an incredibly compelling sci-fi mystery story that puts just as much effort into giving the audience characters we can root for and relate to as it does into the suspense and intrigue and visual flourishes. And although this isn't exactly a performance-heavy film, this does deserve to be seen as breakthrough for Sienna McCormick, who carries much of this film and embodies all of her characters nuances in ways that are easy to miss but nevertheless impressive. While some have complained that once the radio frequency is introduced, the film becomes a glorified radio play, I still found the film to be a brilliant visual piece that deliberately lingers on its subjects for long periods of time so that while they are trying to unravel this mystery, we are right there with them staring them down and seeing their every move (in addition to its opening long tracking shot, there's a second sweeping tracking shot through the town that is breathtaking). So while you may have missed this film when it came on Amazon Prime this summer, you should absolutely seek it out now, particularly if you're a fan of genre films since this is certainly the best of those films to come out in 2020.
#12. Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution -- The first of several films on this list that I had the honor of seeing last year at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival, this is a beautifully-made documentary that is also one of the most unabashed crowd-pleasers of the year. While it starts off as a simple yet entertaining depiction of a sleepaway summer camp designed for teenagers with physical disabilities (that is presented with an extraordinary amount of archival footage that amazingly survived almost fifty years in the vault), it really becomes a film about the power that community has to lead to the betterment of society as a whole. Seeing how the teenagers who spent the summer together at this camp made lifelong connections and ended up using those connections to advocate for such landmark achievements as the Section 504 regulations in the Rehabilitation Act and the Americans with Disabilities Act is one of the most inspiring things I've seen in any movie this year. And while there are many ways that this film could have gone the shallow sentimental "feel-good" movie route, it instead transcends that by presenting each of its subjects as human beings, not merely as "inspirational figures" or symbols of their movement. Much of this has to do with the aforementioned archival footage of the camp they all went to as kids, which goes a great deal toward humanizing them and also just being extremely entertaining, as it shows that people with physical disabilities can have fun and find love and explore different passions just as much as able-bodied people. As someone who had the incredible honor to work at a summer camp in Maine in 2019, I know just how much the camp experience means to both the campers and counselors, and I pray that kids can go back to having those experiences once it is safe to do so. But until then, this is an incredibly fun and inspiring documentary that should enlighten and entertain everyone who watches it (this is currently streaming on Netflix).
#11. The Social Dilemma -- Yet another Sundance documentary that is currently on Netflix, this is easily the most sobering and important documentary film of 2020, one that presents information that is equal-parts shocking and inevitable. While the general message of "technology and social media are going to kill us all" is nothing new or surprising, the unique and artful way that filmmaker Jeff Orlowski presents this information is what makes this documentary something special and essential. By conducting interviews with numerous former employees of the tech/social media industry, Orlowski is able to communicate exactly how social media companies profit off of keeping people addicted to their services. Through his subjects, he shows us that when we like or share posts on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram, they then feed us more posts of that sort in order to keep us clicking and liking and sharing, and that just barely scratches the surface of their testimonies. And while these testimonies themselves would be sobering enough, Orlowski then makes the decision to show us the impacts of social media on the most human level possible, by having actors portray a family being torn apart by social media, and specifically their teenage son getting roped into a far-right conspiracy theory thanks to social media companies feeding his addiction. And as more and more families become isolated and torn apart from one another thanks to technology and social media, any well-made, thoroughly-investigated film that can hold up a mirror to what they are experiencing is vitally important. This is certainly the best documentary I've seen about the insidiousness of the tech and social media industries, one that will live on as an essential document of our current moment, and one that everyone owes it to themselves to watch.
#10. The Assistant -- Speaking of essential documents of our current moment, here is a film that is remarkably restrained and quiet but yet speaks louder than just about any film ever has regarding the issue of workplace sexual harassment. Perhaps the clearest cinematic response yet to the Harvey Weinstein sexual abuse cases and the worldwide reckoning that followed, The Assistant takes place over the course of one long, painful, exhausting day at the office of a film production company ran by a mysterious figure that the audience never sees once, but his presence is felt in every single frame of this film. Our key figure leading us through this day is a young film school graduate who is working as an assistant at this production company, doing menial tasks and attempting to do them well, all the while taking verbal abuse from the boss whenever she "messes up" in his eyes. And yet, on this day, she begins to notice all the little things that point to a broader culture of complicity that both she and everyone else at this company have created, although when she finally feels like she has a case strong enough to file a complaint with HR, the head of HR (played by Matthew Macfayden, in a performance light years away from his work as Mr. Darcy) bullies and belittles her into not filing the report while admitting that she need not worry because she's "not his type." While a film of this type could have easily resorted to either preachiness and/or exploitation, first-time narrative filmmaker Kitty Green gracefully avoids both of these traps, instead crafting a chilling picture of complicity and dread that manifests itself in workplaces run by Weinstein and those like him. And Julia Garner is unbelievable here, carrying this film with a quiet poise that is both heartbreaking and powerful (particularly in her moments after leaving the HR office). Although certainly far from light, entertaining viewing, this is still one of the most essential films of the year, one that sets the bar high for any filmmaker seeking to address sexual harassment and the #MeToo movement, and one that needs to be seen and discussed for a long time afterward (this is currently streaming on Hulu).
#9. Mank -- As someone who has (especially recently) become a huge Film History nerd, anything dealing with the history of cinema and so-called "Old Hollywood" immediately has my attention. Also, I genuinely believe that David Fincher is one of the absolute best filmmakers working today, and that he has never made a bad movie (well, at least since Alien 3, which I still have not seen), so anything with his name on the credits also immediately has my attention. So needless to say, Mank was one of my most anticipated films of 2020, and it absolutely did not disappoint. This is a brilliantly-crafted biopic and film history lesson about the screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz (or Mank, as his friends call him) and his creative journey writing the screenplay for Citizen Kane at the request of Orson Welles, all the while battling with alcoholism and his past in Hollywood. As a screenwriter myself, this is probably the best narrative depiction of screenwriting and the screenwriter's creative process since Adaptation, as it really does a great job at putting you in the headspace of Mank as he fights both the clock and his penchant for alcohol. And Gary Oldman does an absolutely remarkable job of portraying this in his performance as well, showing that he is a fantastic and compelling performer when he's not going completely over-the-top. But the true stand-out in this cast is Amanda Seyfried, who steals every single scene she's in as Marion Davies, the mistress of William Randolph Hearst who quickly befriends Mank. I've always liked Seyfried as an actress, even when she hasn't made the best choices, and this is easily the best performance of her career, one that should certainly earn her a Best Supporting Actress nomination (if not a win also). On top of all that, Fincher clearly went out of his way to make this film look and sound like it was from the Golden Age of Hollywood, and it pays off beautifully as everything from the black-and-white cinematography to the sound design and Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross score (which also deserves serious Oscar consideration) feels completely authentic to the period. This is a wonderful film, easily Fincher's best since The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and one that will earn every Oscar nomination it inevitably gets (this is currently streaming on Netflix).
#8. Minari -- One of my absolute favorite films from the 2020 Sundance Film Festival (and the film that won both the Festival's Grand Jury Prize and Audience Award), this is a film I was lucky enough to see twice there, the first time at an 8:15 AM screening with the writer/director Lee Isaac Chung in attendance for a Q&A. While it was absolutely painful to get up and stand in line in the bitter February cold that early, it was absolutely worth it when I felt this movie's warm embrace come off of the screen and into Park City's Egyptian Theatre that day. This is a beautiful autobiographical coming-of-age film about a family of Korean immigrants moving to rural Arkansas in the 1980s with the hopes of buying land and starting a small farm. This plan, entirely that of the patriarch Jacob (played by a remarkable Steven Yeun), puts a severe strain on his marriage to his wife Monica (an equally compelling Han Ye-ri), and their son David (the point-of-view character) is forced to watch his parents' marriage fall apart, all the while trying to put up with the Grandma (an Oscar-nomination-worthy Youn Yuh-jung), who moves in with them and quickly starts to stir up even more trouble. In some ways reminiscent of both Alfonso Cuarón's Roma and 2019's The Farewell, this film tells a very specific immigrant story that in many ways is also a story of the American Dream, albeit one that is much more difficult to come by today, and the rewards and consequences of that American Dream on the most personal of levels. In addition, this film presents the assimilation process in a beautiful way that does not shy away from racial alienation but also shows that, deep down, most people are decent and accepting of others even if they are ignorant about certain things. This is especially poignant when the family starts attending church and are welcomed by the congregation as family in Christ, even if one young white boy makes a casually racist remark at David (before quickly becoming his closest friend). While most people will not be able to see this film until it is officially released wide on February 12, this is one that should be on everybody's radars, as I cannot see why anybody wouldn't love it, and it might perhaps give you a newfound faith in humanity.
#7. Shirley -- The first great film (and second-best overall) that I saw at Sundance last year, this is also one of the most bold, inventive and boundary-pushing biopics that I have ever seen, one that is so daring in its interpretation of its subject's life that it makes Mank look like an hour-long History Channel profile. This should be no surprise to anyone familiar with the work of director Josephine Decker, whose previous film (2018's Madeline's Madeline) is still one of the strangest and most wonderful experimental films I've ever seen, but the experience of watching Shirley is still an insane fever dream that you will hardly believe you've actually experienced once it's over. The "Shirley" of the title is American gothic horror writer Shirley Jackson, who at the beginning of the film, has garnered much attention for her short story "The Lottery" and is in the process of writing a gothic novel when a newlywed couple, Rose and Fred, end up moving into their house so Fred can work as a TA for Shirley's husband. Rose, in the midst of pregnancy, ends up helping out around with household chores and duties while quickly forming a strange relationship with Shirley that borders on sexual, as Shirley begins to use Rose as a muse for her new novel. Elisabeth Moss, an actress who is virtually incapable of giving a bad performance, is stunning as Shirley Jackson, embodying the writer all the way down to how she holds her cigarette while channeling obsession in a genuinely chilling way. But the real revelation here is Odessa Young, an actress that I had not seen in anything but who truly blew me away here with how she can go toe-to-toe with Moss in all of their scenes while channeling naivete and repression in really stunning ways. While Shirley is definitely the most accessible of the two Josephine Decker films that I've seen, both display a truly unique cinematic voice, one that deserves to be heard even by people who like their films more streamlined and less challenging on a visual and narrative level. So while it may not be for everyone, Shirley is definitely one of the most unforgettable film-viewing experiences I had in 2020, and those willing to take a chance on it will definitely not regret it (this is currently streaming on Hulu).
#6. David Byrne's American Utopia -- One of the absolute best and most joyous concert films I've ever seen, this is a film that really caught me by surprise. While I heard raves for both this film and the original David Byrne show for some time now, I wasn't sure exactly how to interpret those as someone who has never exactly been a big David Byrne/Talking Heads fan (I still haven't seen Stop Making Sense, something I will need to rectify soon). However, when I sat down to watch this film last week, I was instantly enraptured in the world and story that Byrne and his ensemble created on this stage, one that is completely bare yet feels so full and real. Much like a few other films that will be mentioned later on here, this film (and it is a film that just happens to capture a Broadway show) is really about the joy of coming together in community and forming a personal connection with others that can help lead you home, or at least to the idea of a home. And while there is much joy to be found here, there is also a poignant undercurrent of darkness through the whole occasion, as Byrne reminds the audience of various situations occurring outside the doors of the theatre, reminders that culminates in a powerful pairing of the Talking Heads' "Burning Down the House" and a bold cover of Janelle Monae's "Hell You Talmbout" (complete with some heartbreaking and angry Spike Lee flourishes). As a die-hard Bruce Springsteen fan, much of this show reminded me of some of Springsteen's best shows, which are also very conceptual in nature and include periods of tension followed by periods of release and catharsis, typically ending in a joyous celebration. In many ways, it mirrors how life is. We go through periods of tension and hardship so we can enjoy the release and then party with those we love. So yes, this is a phenomenal concert film, and absolutely one of most essential films of 2020 (this is currently streaming on HBO Max).
#5. Soul -- Any year we get a new Pixar film directed by Pete Docter is always a good year. His first three directorial efforts for Pixar (Monsters Inc., Up, and Inside Out) are three of the Pixar's best films ever, and this streak absolutely continues with Soul, a beautiful, existential, sad, funny, poignant film that puts on display everything I love about Pixar's best work. Just as Inside Out used the framework of a buddy adventure film to explore how human emotions play into dealing with hard adjustments in life, Soul uses that same framework to explore the meaning of life and how personalities are formed and developed in people, and it's absolutely a joy to watch. Much discussion has been had about this film being Pixar's first to feature a Black protagonist, and rightly so, as Joe Gardner is one of Pixar's best creations in years, someone who is very specific to this world and yet is instantly relatable to anyone who was ever had a strong passion for something. And the unexpected bond that he forms with 22, while very reminiscent of the unexpected bonds formed by several characters in Pixar's filmography (most notably Marlin and Dory in Finding Nemo), is still hugely entertaining and moving, and a lovely testament to the power that great friendships have in helping people to find their passions. As is always the case with Pixar films, this is beautifully constructed on a technical level, with truly stunning animation that brings these different world to light, and this film also gives us the second outstanding Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross score of the year, one that ranks with Up and WALL-E in terms of best Pixar scores. Although there may be some legitimate concerns (as there were with Inside Out) about whether this film is truly for kids, I honestly think that everyone can take things out of it no matter how old they are, and I would strongly encourage any parents to watch this with their kids and talk with them about it afterward. And even if you don't have kids, please watch this anyway, as this is will almost certainly go down as one of Pixar's best and most meaningful films (this is currently streaming on Disney+).
#4. Lovers Rock -- Amidst all of the other very unexpected things to come of 2020, one thing I very much did not expect was British filmmaker Steve McQueen (whose films 12 Years a Slave and Widows were two of my favorites of the last decade) to release five new movies this year as a part of his Small Axe anthology series on Amazon Prime. This series of films, which captures the lives of West Indian immigrants living in London throughout the latter half of the twentieth century, has been getting all sorts of praise (and rightfully so), but what distinguishes Lovers Rock, the series' second installment, from the others is not simply that it tells a fictional story with fictional characters while the other four are based on actual events, but also that it very deliberately focuses on Black love and joy over Black suffering and anger. The result is a deeply exhilarating, fun, romantic, sexy and downright joyful cinematic experience that uses an impeccable soundtrack, costume design, and beautifully immersive cinematography to place the viewer squarely in its time and place. I actually had the honor and privilege to do an in-depth review of this film for the Baram House online magazine, which you can read here, but for right now I will just say this: while I have spoken with people who were turned off by this film's lack of a concrete plot, I would challenge everybody reading to just go with it. Go with the party and the music and the romance and just allow it to wash over you, because if you do, you may just open yourself up to the immense amount of love, joy, and even hope that this film offers.
#3. Sound of Metal -- Sometimes a very simple film will come along and end up hitting me in a way I do not expect. While the concept for Sound of Metal -- a heavy metal drummer who begins to go deaf -- is both simple and intriguing, what first time writer-director Darius Marder does it with is one of the finest achievements of storytelling I've seen this year. While certain films have depicted deaf characters and those that love them well (Jeff Nichols' Take Shelter does a good job with this), what Marder does here is allow the viewer to hear the world as his protagonist Ruben does (thanks largely to an amazing and award-worthy sound design job), and in doing so he builds a level of empathy for his situation that is truly remarkable. When Ruben decides to continue performing in his band despite the doctor's orders to stop exposing himself to loud noise, we may recognize the danger of him doing so, but we understand. When Ruben angrily insists on going to great lengths to pay for cochlear implants so he can hear again and go back to normal life with his girlfriend, we may realize the shortsightedness of his actions, but we understand. And key to helping us be able to reach that level of empathy and understanding with Ruben is Riz Ahmed, whose performance as Ruben is unquestionably the best and most powerful male performance of the year. This entire movie rests squarely on his shoulders and he nails it, channeling the frustration, restlessness and angst of his character with a profound amount of skill and pathos, and if there is any amount of justice in this world, he will absolutely be a shoe-in for a Best Actor Oscar nomination. While not given the same amount of screen time, supporting players Olivia Cooke and Paul Raci are also extremely impressive, challenging Ruben and forcing him to consider how this life-changing situation could be beneficial for him. While this film (and all of the other films on this list) would have benefited immensely from a theatrical release that would eliminate most other sounds except those within the film, it is still a powerful cinematic experience, one that everybody should absolutely seek out (it is currently streaming on Amazon Prime).
#2. First Cow -- It was just over three years ago I saw my first Kelly Reichardt film, Certain Women, as part of research for a paper I was writing for school. One of the first things that struck me about that film is how she can create such tension and cast such a spell over the viewer despite the inherently quiet nature of her storytelling. Not once in that film did I ever lose interest in the story and characters despite the fact that there is are almost no conventional means of "hooking" the viewer via score, cinematography, or sound design. So needless to say, I was extremely excited to see whatever Reichardt did next, and she absolutely exceeded even my highest expectations with First Cow, a phenomenal achievement that should cement her status as one of America's finest cinematic storytellers. Set in 1820s Oregon Territory, this film follows two frontiersmen named Cookie and King-Lu, who are both very much outsiders in this country (Cookie is a Jewish cook and King-Lu is a Chinese immigrant) as they concoct a plan to make money and build a new life for themselves by making and selling baked goods using the milk from a rich Englishman's prize-winning cow. What starts off as a fine one-off plan to get milk ends up becoming a dangerous heist that gets both of these men into grave danger, and leads to one of the most nail-bitingly intense third-act sequences of the year. But unlike many heist thrillers that rely on shallow suspense to hook viewers, Reichardt solely relies on the viewer's connection to these two men to drive the suspense in this final sequence, and it pays off beautifully, as their relationship is perhaps the most endearing on-screen friendship in any film this year. Other than just their outsider statuses, Cookie and King-Lu are both men that desire both meaningful human connection and a better life for themselves, which is something that should be extremely relatable to any human that has ever lived. And while their actions in stealing this milk for profit are ethically problematic, we nevertheless take their side and are with these two men one hundred percent of the time. A lot of this also has to do with the performances from John Magaro and Orion Lee, who bring a large amount of empathy and grace to these men that only makes them more endearing. Much like Sound of Metal and the film I'm about to mention below, First Cow is an astounding testament to the power of empathy in filmmaking and acting to make simple character studies powerful and unforgettable cinematic experiences, and this is certainly one of the most powerful and unforgettable ones of the last several years (it is currently streaming on Showtime).
And...#1. House of Hummingbird -- I'm aware that there are some of you reading this right now who have gotten to this point and are shocked that I chose an obscure South Korean coming-of-age drama as my #1 film of 2020 over several of the films listed above. And while House of Hummingbird certainly hasn't gotten anywhere near the level of attention and best-of list inclusions as films like First Cow and Lovers Rock have, I still found it to be just as much of a powerful and remarkable achievement as the other films on this list, and one that has been the most difficult for me to shake since I first saw it this past summer. Those who know me understand that I very much have a weak spot when it comes to both coming-of-age films and films with female protagonists (my #1 films of the previous two years were Little Women and Eighth Grade), but this is a film that really does manage to transcend its coming-of-age trappings by offering an incredibly poignant and empathetic look at the turmoil of female adolescence against the backdrop of a country going through its own turmoil and change. Knowing that this is the first feature film for writer/director Bora Kim makes it all the more special, as she directs this film with a level of confidence, maturity and empathy that helps her rise above many more experienced filmmakers. And although it is very specific to both its setting and its time period, this is about as universal a story as you can get in regard to its depiction of a tumultuous adolescence and the loneliness and isolation that comes with it. Anyone who has ever felt isolated in their preteen and teenage years will be able to relate to the protagonist (Eun-hee, played in the best female performance of the year by Ji-hoo Park) on some level. Like Lovers Rock, this is a film that I was able to write about in-depth for the Baram House online magazine, and you can read my complete thoughts on the film here, but please understand that while a quiet, emotionally-heavy foreign-language drama that runs for two hours and eighteen minutes might be a turn-off to some, this is still an exquisite, near-perfect film that needs to be seen and supported by everyone (it is currently available to rent on-demand for $3.99).
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And, for anyone who's curious, here's a list of ten runners-up, i.e. films that are really good (and, in some cases, great) that just missed the cut for my top 15, listed in alphabetical order:
Black Bear
Bruce Springsteen's Letter To You
Clouds
Da 5 Bloods
Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions
Herself
Mangrove
Palm Springs
Spaceship Earth
Tenet
