The Best 10 Films of 2020
Well, that’s that. 2020 is finally finished, and 2021 is going to (hopefully) be the time to recuperate and get back to a bit more of a normal state again. This goes for the films released this year as well. I won’t lie. Things are a little different feeling with this best-of list, but that’s reflective of the 2020 we just experienced. Of the few works we had to flip through, a number of works acted as great escapes of these difficult times, while other films enhanced the many political thoughts of the year: fears of a challenging society, the call to end injustice, and a new appreciation for life outside of the world we once knew. In a way, this list feels much less strong than the usual lists I’ve made (I could only comfortably get to ten films this time around, also partially because I’ve been partaking in the Films Fatale decades project all year and have been out of the loop). On the other hand, this is a humble list that still boasts the greatest cinematic moments that the year had to offer, and it’s noble in this way. So, let’s get right to it. Here are my selections of the best ten films of 2020.
Note: I know that there haven’t been reviews for all of these films throughout the year. Forgive me, as I have devoted a lot of time on writing and researching for the decades project and other content ideas this year, and a number of these films I watched in my spare time. If the following films without reviews end up getting Academy Award nominations, you can expect future reviews for them.
10. First Cow
Right before the initial lockdowns happened, Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow captured the stillness of a world full of isolations. Her signature meditative form of storytelling allows the themes of prosperity to hit harder (especially when attempts to survive prove to be futile). Reichardt is somewhat of a more literal storyteller usually, so seeing her get strictly poetic here has resulted in what is possibly her finest hour. First Cow was likely the last film many people saw before COVID-19 changed the theatre going experience for many independent and arthouse fiends, and it’s an ethereal picture that surely stayed with each viewer throughout the year.
9. Mank
David Fincher’s attempt at recapturing the glow of the Golden Age of Hollywood is yet another triumph in his current hot streak of motion pictures. Mank was written by his father Jack, and son David finally carried this vision out when the time was right: cinematic technology can mimic distant eras rather well, and political climates were at an all time high. Using a warmer take to tell the turmoils of Herman J. Mankiewicz’s writing of the screenplay for Citizen Kane, it’s interesting to see Fincher and company working against type (including usual collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who went for an old-Hollywood score this time around).
8. Another Round
It’s clear that Thomas Vinterberg and Mads Mikkelsen are a match made in heaven, after The Hunt shook every viewer to their core. Another Round is a subsequent example of the magic the two visionaries can create together; this time, we have a dramedy about a new way of life that gets out of hand. The experiment (slowly injecting alcohol into the everyday lives of four teachers who are curious about the repercussions and remedies of such a hypothesis) is stupid, but Vinterberg allows Another Round to develop at a steady pace so we understand why this is so important for the subjects of the film. It concludes with uncertainty: a bleak future where addiction may be taking place, or this was the final hurrah (we will never know for sure).
7. I’m Thinking of Ending Things
Usually, Charlie Kaufman wishes to connect audiences with his abstract ideas. With I’m Thinking of Ending Things, he sprints far ahead and sees who can keep up with him this time around. For some viewers (like myself), I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a gorgeous amalgamations of memories, ideas, and dreams, that creates an impossible tapestry of existences. It might not make explicit sense, but that’s precisely the point (I’d argue it does tell a coherent story, but this is likely just my own personal take that might not match Kaufman’s intentions). Either way, it’s always fascinating to see a narrative get destroyed and reassembled correctly (albeit unorthodox in nature), and Kaufman has pulled off this feat yet again.
6. Da 5 Bloods
Following up BlacKkKlansman is no easy achievement, and any successor would prove if Spike Lee had made a miraculous film or hit a new stride. After Da 5 Bloods, it’s clear that he’s in a renaissance era. This explosive adventure of war veterans trying to rediscover their buried treasure (whilst identify who they themselves are as people many years later) is some of Lee’s finest filmmaking to date. Da 5 Bloods feels by-the-numbers and conventional for a little while, until the picture pulls the rug from underneath you, revealing its true intentions: a test of survival. I cannot begin to describe how refreshing it is to see Spike Lee operate on such an imaginative level (and consistently, too).
5. Time
Every minute of Garrett Bradley’s moving documentary Time passes, the more aware of how one’s life gets wasted away in prison you are. Fox Rich and her husband Rob were arrested for robbery during a dire moment of their lives, and Fox has used every moment after her release from prison to try and get the same second chance that her husband deserves. The fusion of footages (documentary, home video, cinematic) makes Time a flurry of thoughts, like a daydream of endless events that a mind full of worry would be experiencing at once. Time is a mandatory picture in 2020, and it includes only one voice of millions who carry the same sentiments.
4. Soul
When Pixar is good, it’s damn good. Could we have used Pete Docter’s invigorating Soul earlier this horrible year? Absolutely, but better late than never, right? Even at the end of the year, Soul has enough cleansing power to heal you even just a little bit; it reminds you that we must appreciate the eventual time we are allowed to walk around freely and healthily again. In a year where many of our spirits have been crushed, a picture as creative, lovingly-made, and magical as Soul is exactly what we needed. It’s another staple in Docter’s flawless filmography, and the placement of Pixar back on the winning side of contemporary animation.
3. Nomadland
With the economic devastation of 2020, Chloé Zhao’s memories of the last recession we had sting a little more than intended, I’m sure. Nomadland is strung together by the fleeting nature of a life that has gone off the grid, as a middle aged woman experiences her entire existence she once knew having been stripped away from her. So, she treks all of America. Instead of turning Nomadland into a road picture, Zhao makes this particular tale more of a pensive take on discovery and loneliness. She captured actual nomads in her film, providing them the chance to tell their unique stories within the beautiful frame of hidden America that Zhao has always been able to replicate.
2. Small Axe
Even if the separate components of Small Axe don’t all carry the same weight, Steve McQueen’s overall anthology project is extraordinary. It accomplishes its commentary on current day injustices, which were also once rampant in the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s in the West Indian communities of Britain. At its worst, Small Axe is still a gorgeous honouring of cultural achievements. At its best (I’ll single it out: Lovers Rock), you have one of modern day cinema’s finest directors operating at peak level once again, to the point of being difficult to pinpoint. McQueen has joined the collection of auteurs that have accomplished the daunting task of making a sensational film anthology, and it almost feels effortless for him.
1. Minari
I’ve got to be honest, there are some years that just don’t have a film I can label as perfect. Perfect means perfect: I can’t change a single thing or second guess them at all. Some years carry out 5/5 ratings in spades, and other years don’t churn out a single instance of such a rating (and that’s okay; you can’t just expect perfect films to exist). I was ready to move on with this reality of 2020, especially given the wobbly nature of the year’s output. Then, I got around to Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari, which I was certain of seconds after it was completed: it is the best film of 2020, and I don’t think I can be persuaded otherwise. Through and through, Minari is such a beautiful, heart-wrenching coming-of-age picture that goes against the obvious train of thought at so many points.
Chung tells us many tales of his own childhood as a Korean immigrant whose family is trying to make it in America. Minari gets into the realization that a tough life in one place might not be made any easier by relocation, and it’s a difficult pill to swallow (especially given the amount of effort that the Yi family puts into their jobs and their ambitions to live better lives). Chung explores all of these avenues, including the rebellion of a child that might not understand the gravity of this situation, and is acting out because of the many changes and frustrations at home. Oddly enough, Chung doesn’t film Minari entirely from the perspective of a kid, and we spend enough time with two parents that are drifting apart (after their vows of commitment from many years before no longer feel true to either of them).
Minari is the only film of 2020 that I finished and knew immediately was a five out of five. Part of this accomplishment comes from how it resolves (without spoiling much, I hope): the opportunity to keep at it, and know that tomorrow is just another day. Some goals are endless, and you have to spend every day trying to pull them off. No matter what comes in your way (and Minari has many curveballs of varying sizes), you have to keep trying: for yourself, and for your loved ones. It’s a rough realization that some of us will forever keep trying, but it’s one that Chung clearly made peace with. After creating his opus — and the unquestionable film of 2020, in my opinion — he will hopefully no longer have to worry about hustling. I await the many opportunities for greater budgets for him. The road to Minari was already a great one for him (his filmography is solid), and I can’t wait to see what will come next after this exquisite picture.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.