A Look Back at the 2010s

  

If I was to employ a single phrase to describe the 2010s decade in film (2010-2019), it would be “the rise of the franchise.” Sequels and series have been around for as long as movies have existed but never have they been more prevalent than in the last 10 years. With superhero movies developing from an action/adventure subgenre to box office dominance, the importance of comic book franchises can’t be underestimated. While sustainability is a legitimate question going forward, there’s no debating their importance over the last ten years.

The decade saw the death of low and mid-budget features as viable multiplex players. After thriving in the ‘80s and ‘90s, they went on life support during the 2000s before fading to near-irrelevance in the 2010s. That’s not to say they have gone away. Streaming services and the expanding television envelope have given them a new place of residence but they are no longer major players in movie theaters. They are used to fill gaps between tent-poles for megaplexes that have too many screens for the available high-volume blockbusters. Sadly, if you stop by an auditorium showing one of these movies, it will often be more than half-empty on Friday and Saturday nights and almost completely empty at other times.

From a quality standpoint, the 2010s started badly, peaked in the middle years (2013, 2014, and 2016 in particular were strong), and petered out toward the end. Although 2019 isn’t finished as I write this, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that the two years of 2018-19 have represented the least impressive period since I started reviewing films in the early 1990s. That’s a direct reflection of the studios’ decision to go “all in” on franchises. The strategy, at least from a commercial perspective, has worked well for Disney. The results have been mixed for the other studios. Warner Brothers’ mishandling of the DC universe has resulted in that side of the superhero rivalry underperforming. Universal has leaned heavily on Jurassic World. Sony has strapped itself to Spider-Man and James Bond. Paramount has seen mixed results from its rebooted Star Trek and, although Mission: Impossible has done nicely, it has failed to break out. (Fox no longer exists as a stand-alone entity.)

Good fortune and excellent business decisions have allowed Disney to rise so far above the pack that the rest of the studios have given up chasing them. Marvel’s savvy development of the MCU, with the Thanos saga providing high-octane fuel, allowed The Avengers to become the decade’s biggest story. From the superhero super-group’s 2012 debut until their record-smashing latest outing in 2019, The Avengers have helped redefine the boundaries of the genre while at the same time inflating Disney’s coffers. The purchase of Lucasfilm and subsequent overzealous exploitation of Star Wars provided another injection of money (albeit with diminishing returns). Pixar’s decision to focus more on sequels than original products created must-see family films on a regular basis. Adding Fox’s stable of older and current projects (especially Avatar) has only widened the gap between The Magic Kingdom and its competitors. It’s fair to assume that Disney has peaked during the late 2010s – it’s hard to imagine the company soaring higher – but that doesn’t mean they’re going to come back to the pack anytime soon.

Rewatching these movies for the purposes of compiling the list has been a pleasure and a reminder that, no matter how product-oriented Hollywood has become, great films are still being made, marketed, and shown.

Let’s start with the Honorable Mentions. There are eight, and they are presented alphabetically:

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011): When it was released, I was more bullish about the David Fincher remake than the Scandinavian original. That opinion hasn’t changed. I thought Rooney Mara was a spectacular Lisbeth (better than either Noomi Rapace or Claire Foy) and believed that Fincher’s direction was darker and moodier than Niels Arden Oplev’s – a reasonable assertion considering the budgetary differences between the two iterations. Unfortunately, the movie wasn’t the box office success hoped-for by Columbia Pictures and additional installments featuring Mara/Daniel Craig were canceled.

Lincoln (2012): I have to wonder whether this will go down as Steven Spielberg’s final great motion picture. That’s certainly the case at the moment although the director is still active and perfectly capable of “returning to form.” The now-retired Daniel Day-Lewis won a deserved Oscar for his performance here – the crowning achievement of a towering career. Lincoln was very much an actor’s movie and I’d rank it near the top of all-time biographies.

Logan (2017): Logan deserves consideration to be one of the best five superhero movies ever made and, during the era of the MCU, it bested every production turned out by Disney/Marvel. A dark, brooding look at what happens to superheroes when they’re past their sell-by dates, the movie features Hugh Jackman’s most powerful portrayal of the lead character and a stellar supporting turn by Patrick Stewart in his final appearance as Charles Xavier.

Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019): I’d rank this as a middle-of-the-pack effort for the director – not in the same league as Pulp Fiction, The Hateful Eight, or Reservoir Dogs, but substantially better than Jackie Brown, Kill Bill, or his contribution to Grindhouse. Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood is notable for its comedy elements (Tarantino has often incorporated humor but never as openly as here) and its surprising restraint with respect to violence and gore.

Skyfall (2012): The 23^rd official entry into the long-running movie series is one of the best action-adventure movies of the decade, cementing Daniel Craig’s status as the second-most popular 007 (behind Sean Connery). This is the first post-Connery Bond to be deemed a worldwide blockbuster and removed doubts about Bond’s immediate future. Eight years later, with Craig bowing out after his fifth film, there is as much interest in who will be “the next Bond” as there was when Connery announced his (first) retirement.

Toy Story 3 (2010): The perfect end to an excellent trilogy and, in my opinion, the best thing Pixar has made. Although Disney, ever-chasing the money dragon, returned to this franchise in 2019 (with a solid enough epilogue/reunion), Toy Story 3 remains the animated series’ crown jewel. For older viewers, it’s a bittersweet reminder of how life moves on and the bliss of childhood fades away. Try not to shed a tear. I dare you. Truly a masterful piece of animation.

Wind Rises, The (2013): The Wind Rises is in many ways atypical for Miyazaki but the artistry and intelligence of the screenplay are unmistakable characteristics. One comment in my original review encapsulates how the film feels: “Before seeing The Wind Rises, I heard comparisons to the epics of David Lean. As seemingly absurd as such comments might seem, the truth becomes evident in the viewing.” Thanks to the new agreement between Studio Ghibli and HBO Max, The Wind Rises will be available for on-demand streaming beginning in Spring 2020, alongside the rest of the catalog.

Wolf of Wall Street, The (2013): The Wolf of Wall Street isn’t Martin Scorsese’s best film. In fact, it’s not in his Top 3. A case could be made that it’s #5 or #6. It is, however, his best film of the 2010s and it may be his most enjoyable all-time production. Scorsese’s best films are often brutal gut-punches – powerful, unforgettable stories that can be tough to sit through more than once. Not so with The Wolf of Wall Street. This is delightfully re-watchable (and not just for the Margot Robbie scenes).

Now, here are the Top 10, presented in reverse order:

#10: Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017)

Tone isn’t merely important to Three Billboards, it’s critical. Stripped of sentiment, the movie uses a hard-hitting dramatic style to advance the story. There are gut-punches aplenty and more than a few of the plot points aren’t expected. This isn't a mystery, a whodunnit?, or a procedural. It’s a character-based piece that looks deep into the human soul and finds shadow and light. It makes an argument for redemption that some might reject but does so in a compelling manner. And, despite all the misery, it uses dark comedy to keep the proceedings from becoming too morose. Roger Ebert once stated that any subject matter can be used to comedic effect if the practitioner is skilled enough. Director Martin McDonagh is skilled enough. His approach is specific and uncompromising. It’s not safe.

#9: Arrival (2016)

I can think of only four other movies made during the last 40 years that can boast a similar level of sophistication and intelligence in their approach to connecting with the unknown: Close Encounters of the Third Kind, The Abyss (Director’s Cut), Contact, and Interstellar. Spielberg, Cameron, Zemeckis, and Nolan - not bad company for French Canadian-born director Denis Villeneuve, who would go on to make the Blade Runner sequel later in the decade. We don’t see serious science fiction like this nearly enough. The mysteries in Arrival run deeper than is initially apparent, especially when time travel is brought into the mix. The movie doesn’t end with Bill Pullman giving a rousing speech and a makeshift air force attacking alien ships. This resolution is more sublime and satisfying. Although Arrival is about first contact with extraterrestrials, it says more about the human experience than the creatures from another world.

#8: Looper (2012)

Looper is a tremendous motion picture experience. Not merely a "very good" one, but a great one. It's a rousing science fiction/fantasy tale with a dose of hard-hitting drama, an edgy approach that denies Hollywood's penchant for formula, and a smart script that was crafted with care and an attention to detail. For me, a great film is one in which all the elements are well done. They blend together like a symphony. That's the case here. The screenplay is clever and intelligent; it piqued my interest and kept me involved. The characters are well-rounded and powerfully portrayed. There's plenty of action and suspense, and even a little humor and romance mixed in. There are some profoundly disturbing questions that have no easy answers. The art direction is impressive, suggesting a futuristic world that is familiar yet different. There's a strong emotional element to all of this. Looper accomplishes what top-notch cinema should do: it diverts, entertains, and enriches. It will not impact my worldview or the way I go about my daily living, but I will not soon forget it and I am grateful for having seen it.

#7: OJ: Made in America (2016)

Ezra Edelman’s epic documentary explores not only the rise and fall of one of football’s iconic players, but the status of race relations in America and the impact of celebrity-worship on modern culture. The expansive running length (officially, 7:47) is a barrier to single-sitting watching, but it gives Edelman the latitude to provide not only breadth but depth. The unhurried approach allows him not only to provide a thorough biography of the title character but a look at all the factors that led to his trial. For the first time, a documentary clearly and concisely explains why, even though he was most likely guilty, O.J. was unanimously acquitted by a jury of his peers. O.J.: Made in America is an extraordinary achievement in that not only does it provide a definitive overview of O.J.’s life – warts and all – but it offers new insights into events that have been picked over repeatedly over the past 20+ years. Considering the tightening focus on race-related cultural schisms and issues during the Obama and Trump presidencies, the subject matter, despite having been litigated in the mid-1990s, is as relevant today as when it dominated the headlines. O.J.: Made in America is far more than the story of one man; it is, in many ways, the story of modern-day America.

#6: The Hateful Eight (2015)

The Hateful Eight is an homage to the Westerns of the ‘60s. As is Tarantino’s wont, the movie wallows in blood, gore, violence, and profanity. It’s not a nice film but it is wildly entertaining. Gallows humor abounds - so much so that some critics circles considered this a “comedy” during the 2015-16 awards cycle. I wouldn’t go that far but there are instances when Tarantino’s tongue is planted in his cheek. In terms of its overall tone and approach, The Hateful Eight is closer to Django Unchained than anything else Tarantino has made. The level of violence and the warped comedy are closer to Pulp Fiction. And, while no Tarantino movie is likely to top Inglourious Basterds for sheer audacity, The Hateful Eight comes close. Just when you think you’ve figured out where it’s going… you’re probably wrong.

#5: Life Itself (2014)

Arguably the best (and most human) documentary of the 2010s, Life Itself not only explores the rich and varied life of film critic Roger Ebert (using his autobiography as a stepping-off point but not adapting it in a conventional sense) but it provides an unvarnished look at Ebert as he faced his end-of-life days. By his decree, this is a “warts-and-all” portrait and it’s all the more powerful because it doesn’t airbrush the subject or his moods. He said he wouldn’t be associated with a film that was less than fully truthful and knew he wouldn’t be alive by the time it was released. I shed more tears watching this film than any other in the decade – and I can testify that my sniffles weren’t the only ones at the screening where I saw the movie. The movie is a remarkable essay. It touches on aspects of Roger's life, some openly public and some deeply personal. Excerpts from the book are read by a voice actor doing a credible impersonation. Director Steve James strikes the right tone throughout. There are times when the film is light and funny, instances when it is nostalgic, and occasions when it's almost too painful to watch. The portrait it presents is vivid.

#4: Gravity (2013)

Gravity was (and still is) an amazing visual, visceral, and existential experience. Its approach to outer space is almost tactile and its methods of storytelling keep the viewer involved and on edge. There’s no question that the movie loses something when translated from the vastness of a theater screen (the best way to see Gravity was in the biggest theater with the best a/v systems) but, even on a tiny iPad screen, it retains the capacity to entrance. The simplicity of the setup reminded me a little of Moon, the underrated Duncan Jones film starring Sam Rockwell. It has the same sort of mindset, even though this is more action-oriented and has a noticeably larger budget. Both films, however, deal with the concept of isolation in space. It's a powerful psychological underpinning and Gravity, like Moon, explores it effectively. In this case, we have the added benefit of state-of-the-art special effects and superior acting supplementing a well-defined narrative. Throw in some of the best 3-D ever and Gravity becomes the complete package.

#3: Like Father, Like Son (2014)

I think Like Father, Like Son is a great movie – the best of many strong films from Japanese director Hirokazu Kore-eda. However, my guess is that the film may have a stronger impact for parents. The movie is about nurturing, blood relationships, and what it means to be in a family. While the dramatic underpinning will be intelligible to everyone, there’s a certain underlying emotional component that will reach those who empathize with the dilemmas of the main characters. On an existential level, no parent can merely watch Like Father, Like Son without living out a version of the events in his/her mind. Kore-eda is an exceptional filmmaker, arguably the successor to Yasujiro Ozu in terms of his filmmaking prowess and humanist perspective. His resume speaks for itself. As effective as some of his other efforts have been, however, Kore-eda reaches a pinnacle with Like Father, Like Son. Everything about this movie - tone, pacing, acting, editing, dramatic heft - is nearly perfect. This is filmmaking at the highest level and well worth seeking out.

#2: Interstellar (2014)

Interstellar is science fiction. It's not space opera. It's not futuristic fantasy. It's what the term "science fiction" was coined to represent. It presents a viable future in which space travel, while possible, is dangerous and uncertain. The film is nearly three hours but there's enough story here for something a lot longer. In condensing it, Nolan has made something 169 minutes in length that breezes by faster than many productions half its length. He accomplishes this by establishing a blistering pace during Interstellar's meatier sections, including expert cross-cutting between Earth and space during a powerful "fire and ice" sequence. For those who appreciate the Mobius strip approach Nolan is known for, Interstellar offers a little of that. There are some twists and non-chronological jumps, although not so many that the story becomes confusing or unintelligible. For anyone with a hunger for real science fiction rather than the crowd-pleasing, watered-down version Hollywood typically offers (that I often enjoy immensely), Interstellar is a satisfying entrée. As event movies go, this is one of the most unique and mesmerizing.

#1: Before Midnight (2013)

And so we have come to the Best Film of the 2010s, at least in my estimation. For those who have rigorously parsed my yearly lists, this probably isn’t a surprise. For everyone else, it likely is. I don’t expect to see this film topping anyone else’s list – not because it wasn’t well-liked at the time of its release but because, by the nature of its “smallness,” it’s easily overlooked or forgotten. Although not the most enjoyable entry into Richard Linklater’s “Before” trilogy (that would be Before Sunrise) or the most satisfying in terms of answering the big questions (that would be Before Sunset), this is in many ways the most powerful of the three movies because of how it addresses the idea that love, no matter how consuming and delirious, may ultimately not be enough. It’s about the reality of a relationship when the Honeymoon phase is long over. It addresses universal issues with a clear eye and by using characters we have come to love over the years. There are rumors that there may be a fourth film in the series – that Linklater, Ethan Hawke, and Julie Delpy aren’t ready to give up these characters yet and, like Michael Apted with the “Up” series, they’re fascinated by the changes wrought by the passage of time. I’m not always enamored with sequels but that’s one I would love to see.

The strength of Before Midnight is how real everything feels. The centerpiece conversation, a one-on-one between Jesse and Celine in a hotel room, is powerful and visceral because of its universality. It doesn't offer Hollywood's version of a husband/wife conflict. The ebb and flow of the argument is neither overblown nor underdone. As I was watching this twenty-odd minute sequence unfold, I was gripped by the unassailable feeling that I have lived this. The sense of verisimilitude is powerful. These are issues that every couple faces. These are how real-life fights start, climax, and perhaps finish. Scenes like this can be beginnings, endings, or something in-between. Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke understand this and keep us guessing. There's tension here about whether we're seeing the end of a relationship whose improbable beginning was told nearly twenty years earlier.

Delpy and Hawke know these characters. It's human nature to wonder how much of the material here is autobiographical. The actors are so convincing that it's tempting to see a blurring between fact and fiction that may not exist. Physically, the years have been kinder to Delpy than to Hawke (or at least that's how it appears on screen). She's much the same - a little older, obviously, but still attractive and capable of radiance when she smiles. He wears the time more roughly, although that could have something to do with the grooming and haircut. Still, Hawke's face looks more lined and careworn.

Jean-Luc Godard famously stated that "The cinema is truth at 24 frames per second." Often, when faced with overproduced blockbusters and special effects laden mainstream fare, it's easy to forget that. It takes something like Before Midnight to remind us of what "truth" means. It's a delicate thing, easily missed either in whole or in part. There's nothing wrong with escapism; I love many escapist motion pictures. But it's a rare and powerful thing to confront something honest and real on the big screen. It stays with you in a way that nothing else can. Before Midnight is fiction but it might as well be a documentary.

All hail this most wonderous and unlikely of franchises. Of the 2000+ films I saw between January 1, 2010 and December 31, 2019, none has left a stronger impression. As odd a choice as it may seem to some, there was never any doubt in my mind that it would come out near or at the top.

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