About a week ago, Daniel propositioned Film Review Fridays with its most ambitious publication yet: a final 9 mini-reviews to cap off the year. 3 reviews from each of the 3 film reviewers on movies that have meant so much to them this year, a way to end with a bang! A pow! A massive swing to a gong! So before you count down to midnight on New Years Eve, please take the time and listen as we tell you about our favorite films we saw this year.
Mason’s Final 3
Argylle (2024), dir. Matthew Vaughn
‘Argylle’ was one of my “on a whim” films this year. Saw the trailer one morning, booked a ticket, off to the cinema, and as with most of my “on a whim” films, I absolutely loved it. With it being directed by Matthew Vaughn, the man who brought ‘Kick-Ass’ and ‘Kingsmen’ to cinema screens, and with an all-star cast, including Henry Cavill, Sam Rockwell, Bryce Dallas Howard and Bryan Cranston, the film had too many aces up its sleeve. So imagine my disappointment when I realised ‘Argylle’ was never coming to physical media and that it was an AppleTV+ film. Damn you, Apple.
The film made use of ARG-style marketing, having the script based on the book of the same name by writer Elly Conway. However, journalists hit a brick wall when they were unable to find any trace of Conway, there was no evidence she even existed. The book released in January of this year and when the film’s trailer dropped, the truth was revealed: Elly Conway was the protagonist. It had all been an elaborate, grand, espionage-like build-up to one of the year’s first blockbusters.
Elly Conway is the Ian Flemming of her generation, having authored 5 books in her best-selling spy series following the missions of Aubrey Argylle. As she travels home to her parents during a bout of writer’s block, she encounters real-life spy Aiden Wilde, who reveals that the events in her books have not only detailed real missions but are in the midst of revealing a grand criminal conspiracy. Under Aiden’s protection, Elly is forced to confront her past and try to uncover how to stop the shadowy Division before they control her once and for all.
Bryce Dallas Howard plays Elly with a bubbly sweetness, she’s someone you can sympathise with and hopes not only that she completes the mission, but that she’ll be completely okay afterwards. I believe her best scene takes place in an Arabian nightclub, where she’s forced to dive head-first into undercover spywork, even after being confronted with harsh truths, her good-nature keeps you rooting for her. Sam Rockwell plays Aiden Wilde and perfectly tiptoes between competent and hilariously in-competent. It’s hard to strike a balance, but between his goofy fistfights and his on-the-spot solutions to evade and escape, he somehow creates a man you can laugh at, but not want to get into an altercation with. The most surprising performance for me though was John Cena as Wyatt, Argylle’s sidekick. His pivotal scene being having to abandon the organisation alongside Argylle, he displays an amazing dramatic performance you wouldn’t expect. Even with a short level of screentime, Cena made me feel for his character, you could get a sense of the trouble the partners have been through and to have that all forced to end is tear-jerking.
Bravo, Vaughn, I look forward to the next instalment.
Interstella 5555 (2003), dir. Kasuhisa Takenouchi
Daft Punk is an icon not only in house music but in the medium itself. With their sci-fi style appearance and energising yet jazzy discography. There’s no doubt that they’ve become a musical landmark. All the more amazing considering their career spanned only 4 albums, with their final album, ‘Random Access Memories’, beating Taylor Swift’s ‘Red’, for the Best Album Grammy. While their best known contribution to film is their soundtrack for ‘Tron: Legacy’ in 2010, there was one other film that allowed Daft Punk to join other musicians of legend. Many bands like Toto and Queen get to compose soundtracks, not many get their own films.
With an opportunity like this, Daft Punk would be able to stand alongside other music icons like the Beatles with ‘Hard Days Night’ and ‘Yellow Submarine’, like Metallica with ‘Enter The Never’ and best of all, their album, ‘Discovery’ would be the only sound heard from the film. For this grand task, they turned to their beloved anime/manga hero, Leiji Matsumoto, best known for his work with ‘Space Pirate Captain Harlock’. The film had 3 years in production and cost around $4,000,000. This year, they showed the film in theatres once again, in time for it’s 21st anniversary, and I was lucky enough to see it, albeit with a rumoured AI upscale because of the master copy loss.
An alien band are abducted by a music mogul, who disguises them as human and makes a fortune off their hit song ‘One More Time’ under the name, The Crescendolls. Hypnotically forced to his will, they slave away at concerts and signings, being stripped of their true identities and forced into the hideous side of fame. Shep, another alien, is sent a signal of the band’s trouble and flies to rescue them, on his and the band’s journey, however, they uncover a dark revelation about the music mogul, and just how systematic his abductions are.
Understandably, listening to Daft Punk for an hour while bright anime screens in your face can be disorienting and tiring at times, but I found they were always able to pull me right back with another plot twist. The art style is incredibly striking, focusing on close-ups and only giving you a few chances to catch your breath, but the command of colour is mesmerising enough not to mind that much. Like in ‘Tron: Legacy’, Daft Punk make an appearance in this film as well, losing a Grammy to the Crescendolls.
The most obvious interpretation for this film is that it’s an allegory for the pursuit of celebrity status as well as the level of producer interference that people come across on that journey. Marilyn Monroe was famously forced into becoming a sex object because of her looks, Elvis was forced to become a family-friendly musician for a short while before pushing back, many artists have lost themselves in the pursuit of success. That Daft Punk made a film about their greatest fear is beautiful to me.
Hearts Of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse (1991), dir. Eleanor Coppola, Fax Bahr, George Hickenlooper
Often, the most interesting events surrounding a film will be behind the camera. We all hear stories of Leo DiCaprio cutting his hand in ‘Django: Unchained’, Alan Rickman falling seconds before he was meant to in ‘Die Hard’ and Tom Cruise constantly breaking bones during stunts, but I firmly believe that the catastrophes we don’t see or hear are the best stories. To back that argument, I’d like to submit the companion documentary to Francis Ford Coppola’s ‘Apocalypse Now’, named with inspiration from the classic Joseph Conrad novella it was based on: ‘Heart Of Darkness’.
Directed by Coppola’s wife, Eleanor, who passed away in April of this year, ‘Hearts Of Darkness: A Filmmakers Apocalypse’ takes an intimate look into Francis’ psyche and mental breakdown during the 1976-77 production. During production, Francis struggled to manage against such complications as disastrous weather, Philippines government interference and Marlon Brando’s inexcusable work ethic, to the point where Coppola contemplated suicide. While such personal and private thoughts are family matters, the inclusion can’t help but make you respect Coppola and the film more. It’s the pain and the suffering that makes the art, as well as the bravery to admit that to the audience.
“There’s almost anything I’d do to get out of it, I’m already thinking about what kind of sickness I can get. I’m in the rain on the platform thinking if I just moved a little, I’d just fall 30 feet. It might kill me, but it might paralyse me or something. It’d be a graceful way out” – Francis Ford Coppola
Outside of Coppola’s mental breakdown, Fax Bahr and George Hickenlooper also partially directed the documentary, contributing interviews with the cast and crew. In my opinion, the best interview is with Martin Sheen when he takes us through the process of the film’s iconic opening scene. That segment shows off more incredibly revealing footage showing Sheen’s own breakdown after cutting his hand against a mirror.
“Francis tried to stop it, and he called for a doctor, and I said, ‘No, let it go. I want to have this out right here and now, it had to do with facing my worst enemy, myself.” – Martin Sheen
“The room had been charged with the possibility that Marty might lunge at the camera or attack Francis. There was an electricity in the room. Anything could happen.” – Eleanor Coppola
Eleanor Coppola narrates the documentary and amazingly stays calm, showing little emotion as we’re played the most intimate behind-the-scenes footage we’ve ever seen. Though she’s witnessed her husband face insurmountable odds and talk about suicide right in front of her, her calm reflective voice wonderfully elevates the tense and outraged voice recordings she plays for us.
If you’re a fan of such documentaries as ‘Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond’, I can’t recommend this more. ‘A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse’ is one of the most important documentaries I’ve seen and shows the true horror of being an artist, risking their livelihood on a pure vision that has suddenly corrupted.
Daniel’s Final 3
True Grit (2010), dir. Joel and Ethan Coen
“People do not give it credence that a young girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood. But it did happen.”
The Coen Brothers exploded into Hollywood in the mid-nineteen eighties and did not slow down for over thirty years, releasing an uncountable number of classics in that time. They are a unique voice in the movie business and I believe much of that comes from their obvious and distinct love of literature. From their first few outings, they were up-front about their appreciation and near adaptation of Dashiell Hammet noir novels. They didn’t undertake full textual adaptations until the 21st century with 2000’s O Brother Where Art Thou? It is their near 1:1 adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men which may be their masterpiece but their near 1:1 adaptation of Charles Portis’ True Grit is certainly a close second.
If I had to choose a story I thought about more than any other this year, at least in the latter half, it was probably True Grit. I’d seen the Henry Hathaway classic starring John Wayne, Kim Darby and Glenn Campbell many times during childhood but it had been at least a decade since I watched it before revisiting it earlier this year. I never gave the film much consideration as anything other than a slightly above average sixties western. Of course, “Fill your hands, you son of a bitch!” followed by the charge toward Robert Duvall’s Ned Pepper and his gang was a highlight of the film for me as a kid but the more melancholy and sombre notes of the story were wasted on me. This is, after all, a story about a child losing her childhood to senseless violence and the gruff lawman who makes every attempt to preserve it.
In September, I read the astounding Charles Portis novel of the same name. Portis’ True Grit is undoubtedly one of the great American novels, at least great westerns, and should be mentioned in conversation with his contemporaries who operated in the genre like McCarthy, McMurtry or Williams. It has all of the humour of that classic Hathaway movie yet an undercurrent of solemnity and heart that will have you getting misty eyed in the final paragraph. The prose is simple, concise and sharp. Elegant in a singular way, much like the works of Joel and Ethan Coen.
Of the 2010 film, the cast and crew is perfect. Cinematographer Roger Deakins, Composer Carter Burwell, Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin, and Hailee Steinfeld who as a 14-year-old expertly carries the movie on her back and holds her own against – and even outshines – the older, more experienced cast members.
The Coen Brothers’ adaptation of True Grit makes me cry. However, the tears are unusual – they do not come from the overwhelming of a single emotion, they come from the overwhelming of all. The story of True Grit is beautiful, the striking, and simple sadness of the final lines, the unexpected compassion of Rooster Cogburn, and the grit of the young Mattie Ross all combine to make a filmic experience unlike any other.
Ace In the Hole (1951) dir. Billy Wilder
“I can handle big news and little news. And if there’s no news, I’ll go out and bite a dog.”
As one can expect from a Billy Wilder picture, Ace in the Hole is a quick, and deceptively dark tale that zigs right when the audience is expecting a zag. The snappy screenplay, grimy and sweat-soaked performers and deep cynicism makes for a viewing experience only Wilder could pull off – the master’s fingerprints are all over this underseen tale of humanity at its most twisted.
Inspired by the true and devastating story of Floyd Collins and the Sand Cave incident which became a press fixation and public sensation in 1925, Ace in the Hole follows a newspaperman named Chuck Tatum who will compromise everything in his life, physically or morally to revive his failing career. Tatum grapples with his own humanity and it’s natural empathy and compassion – only he can save a doomed man, but why shouldn’t he make a quick buck on the side? Kirk Douglas is excellent in the role and is an ideal leading man for Wilder, with the effortless charm of Jack Lemmon and the capacity to act the gritty self-interested parts of William Holden. It is a shame Wilder and Douglas didn’t work together a second time.
Noir is a genre which has fallen out of fashion in recent years, sure Nightcrawler is incredible, The Batman does an amazing job twisting the genre and breathing new life into the rapidly staling superhero barrage, and Zodiac is nearing its twentieth birthday. It’s a shame, really. No other genre, especially not one as mainstream and popular as noir in the 40’s and 50’s, has the capacity to so viciously turn the mirror to the audience. Fritz Lang’s ‘M’, Huston’s ‘The Maltese Falcon’, take your pick from Hitchcock, Wilder, early Howard Hawkes or Carol Reed, make for some of the most fascinating films with sharp scripts that are dark and dour and spiteful, and magically, almost infinitely watchable and rewatchable.
No one was making movies like Billy Wilder, no one makes them like him now, and no one will make them like him in the future. He was a singular cinematic voice who gave the art of film over a dozen certifiable classics and directly inspired innumerable more. While Ace in the Hole is not his masterpiece (that is a near impossible distinction to make among so many greats) it is absolutely worthy of a watch. If not for Wilder’s impeccable direction, the fascinating story or the amazing lead and supporting performances then as a gateway to the films of Billy Wilder or to the world of noir cinema unfortunately largely neglected in Hollywood today.
La Chimera (2023) dir. Alice Rohrwacher
“Those things aren’t made for human eyes, but those of souls.”
With La Chimera, Alice Rohrwacher has made an understated, sombre, meditation on love, loss and the allure of the past through the lens of glorious 16mm film stock. It is a movie that defies genre definition with elements of drama, over-cranked slapstick in the vein of Buster Keaton, rousing adventure and one of the greatest uses of magical realism in film.
La Chimera is not an easy movie. Like the Etruscan tombs Josh O’Connor’s Arthur and his ‘tombaroli’ comrades raid, its many meanings and conclusions lie below the surface where only human souls have any right to go. Xan Brooks interviewed Rohrwacher for The Guardian and when questioned about the challenges in understanding La Chimera she provided this response; “We don’t need to get inside everything, break down every door, storm in like conquistadors. There are other ways to approach a film. We can gently knock. We can walk around it in circles.” It’s a great answer to a bit of an obtuse question and at the same time it gets to the core philosophy of the film itself. Put simply Rohrwacher’s response to Brooks’ question means: meet the film on its own terms, a notion I can’t help but support. There is no reason to approach La Chimera as one would ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ despite the latter’s obvious influence from the former. Arthur is no Indy, and he isn’t intended to be.
Rohrwacher introduces the audience to Arthur at his lowest; just released from prison, mourning a lost love, and trying his hardest to ignore a pushy travelling salesman. He reluctantly falls back in with his old gang of ‘tombaroli’ (an Italian term for the wave of grave robbers who raided Etruscan tombs in the Italian countryside beginning during the nineteen eighties) With Arthur’s seeming supernatural ability to locate the relics from the past the gang hope to make it rich exploiting the dead and the living alike. Pulling Arthur away from this life is Italia (played excellently by Carol Duarte) – a woman who, like Arthur, does not belong where they’ve ended up. Arthur must decide who he will be in this new, spiralling chapter of his life while picking up the threads of the life he’s lost.
It is Josh O’Connor, with his dusty white suit and scrappy beard who carries this film from the amazing opening on the train (trust me when I say you will be hooked by the end of that scene alone) to the final scene as he reaches the end of the threads left behind by his lover’s death. O’Connor is one of those talents who really seemed to appear from nowhere in the last few years and I am incredibly excited to see what he makes next. As for Rohrwacher herself, I’ll be at the cinema for every one of her films from now on, a generational talent who will be spoken about for decades to come.
Emma’s Final 3
Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996), dir. Mike Judge
What, if anything, do you think of when you hear the words ‘Beavis and Butt-Head Do America’? I mean, what does that sound like to you? Is it a road movie? A witty social commentary, perhaps? Or maybe you’re already familiar with the series, and you can imagine exactly what a Beavis and Butt-Head film will involve, from the irreverent humour to the low-res visuals. You, of course, are right – the film is exactly what you’d expect from two of the 90s’ most recognisable slackers, with as many quips about scoring and bungholes as you could possibly dream of.
But actually, the others are right too. ‘Beavis and Butt-Head Do America’ IS a road movie, in a sense, and it’s definitely a social commentary of a certain kind, although we may need to use ‘witty’ loosely. The story is this: hopeless layabouts Beavis and Butthead lose their television, and, in their search to find it, end up being America’s most-wanted criminals. What begins as a walk to a local motel becomes a cross-country road trip in pursuit of sex and money that sees them, among other highlights, becoming inadvertent hit-men, sending the national military into meltdown, and hallucinating a White Zombie music video while high on peyote.
For a little context, Beavis and Butt-head are the title characters of one of MTV’s most beloved animated sitcoms. The show, as a general rule, features its metalhead protagonists in one of two situations: either sitting on the couch in their dilapidated living room, staring gormlessly at music videos on the TV and making such inane remarks as ‘this sucks’, or getting up to mischief – which can be anything from cow tipping to causing riots – in their small Texas town.
Although fans of the show will be disappointed by its lack of droll music video commentary, it more than makes up for this shortcoming in all other areas. For a start, the soundtrack is just as good as that provided by the music videos in the show. It may even be better, because viewers get all the heavy metal goodness of the music videos without having gripping moments interrupted by the videos. Songs by the Butthole Surfers, Ozzy Osbourne, and AC/DC among others help give the film a distinctive quality that elevates it above standard comedy farce.
Indeed, ‘Beavis and Butt-Head Do America’ is on all counts a unique film. Not only is it hilarious (special shoutout to Cornholio for that) but it also, as I said, can be thought to make some deceptively interesting points. The film satirises teenage culture in all its wastoid glory, while the plot itself lampoons society’s obsession with security; in the film this obsession is heightened to the point of absurdity. In doing this, the film scores on all fronts, and establishes an important position for itself in history as a riotous, fast-paced, and unforgettable paragon of lowbrow culture.
Head On (1998), dir. Ana Kokkinos
The aptly named ‘Head On’ is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Although I’ve read the book it was based on (Loaded, by Christos Tsiolkas) and loved it, the film and the book are wholly distinct works. As such, nothing about Loaded properly prepared me for the jaw-dropping masterpiece that is ‘Head On’.
It’s everything you could ask for and more from a film with such a title. Fierce and confrontational, but also sincere and occasionally heart-rending, not to mention truly significant in its exploration of culture, family, identity and tradition. The film follows Ari, a young Greek-Australian man rebelling against his family, their traditions and their expectations of him with drugs, clubs, unemployment and anonymous sexual encounters. Ari, much like the film itself, it seems, is angry at everything, from the hostile Melbourne suburbs he grew up in to his overbearing but ultimately weak (to his mind) parents.
Ari, played by Alex Dimitriades, is entrancing for all the reasons protagonists in films are normally unwatchable – his only real discernible motivation seems to be a lack of motivation, a single-minded commitment to doing nothing; he’s a far cry from the driven, searching characters who populate most cinema. Ari is self-destructive, aggressive, volatile, and often misguided, but it seems to me his unsympathetic nature is the core of what makes him so compelling. He doesn’t want any audiences’ sympathy. He hates us, the intruding viewers who, in watching the film, take on the authority to judge his life, as much as he does those around him, and it’s for this that he’s compelling – films that refuse to pander to, and even reject their viewers, are rare.
However, the film’s power is not all on Ari. Although Dimitriades is magnetic and extraordinary, his fellow cast members (almost all Greek-Australians themselves) are equally forceful, every performance simmering with unspoken malice or despair. Paul Capsis in particular is remarkable as Ari’s friend Johnny, quick-witted, dignified and self-possessed even in the face of the most horrifying brutality.
As well as all this, ‘Head On’ is visually breathtaking. The atmosphere is electric, the colours are dark but furious, the cinematography is fresh, and every part of the film is gritty and exhilarating. Similarly, the mix of modern electronic music and traditional Greek music in the score underpins Ari’s tense fight with his cultural roots and perfectly encapsulates the drama inherent in his battle for selfhood. Unapologetic, raw and with some of the most striking last lines I can ever recall hearing in a film, Head On is an astonishing feat of cinema, and without question one of the best films I’ve seen this year.
Three Months (2022), dir. Jared Frieder
As Three Months opens, it’s the summer of 2011, and Caleb Khan has just graduated. His days are shaping up to be more of the same usual blur of meaningless sex, work at the local convenience store, laying by the (beach)side and getting high with his best friend Dara. But everything changes when he finds out that he might be HIV positive. Caleb’s whole world is shifted by the realisation that even someone with as little direction as he has can still have their life changed irrevocably in a single second.
The film seeks to change viewers’ worlds, as well. It encourages us to do more with our time than just waiting for things to change. Make something of your life, it tells us, even when it just feels like living’s too hard, because you never know when everything might be dragged out from under you. In sharing this, the film is more human than possibly anything else I can recall watching. Every scene is a study in the mundane nuances of existing – the characters chew on the end of backpack straps; pull faces unconsciously; toy with necklaces when they’re bored. They’re idiosyncratic and deeply ordinary, and, in this, fulfil their roles exceptionally.
In this cast of standout performances, Troye Sivan shines as Caleb. In his first starring role as an adult, Sivan manages to vanish entirely into his role as the bored Florida punk, allowing Caleb to bloom as a vibrant and relatable character. The rest of the cast, including Academy Award winners Ellen Burstyn and Louis Gossett Jr., are equally outstanding. Their performances perfectly blend affection with exasperation, and ensure the film levels a profound emotional charge right to viewers’ hearts.
Combine this with an ecstatic, vibrant visual palette and a sweeping soundtrack of alternative rock and pop – everything from David Bowie to Le Tigre, plus two original songs by Troye Sivan – and Three Months is unequivocally a masterpiece. The film invites profoundly important conversations around religion, identity, and family, and is almost guaranteed to imbue viewers with a rush of desire to make their lives into something beautiful.
This might mean remembering to take a photo of something precious, or letting yourself get drunk with your best friend one quiet night, or anything, really, so long as you know you’re living. Make the most of life, even if you’re waiting; a little piece of heaven might be just around the corner.
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