Skip to main content

YEAR IN REVIEW: 2023

    Confession: I spend all year waiting specifically to design the annual collage for my "Year in Review." What can I say? I really like commemorating things. And there was a lot to commemorate this year for Films and Feelings because, even if my overall post count was slightly lower than usual, I did on occasion experience that fleeting sensation of being proud of the work I put out.

    My lower review count is probably the biggest reason for my desert of posts. I only put out nine reviews in 2023, and only three in the last half of the year. This is only barely over half of what I pulled off two years ago. (I was going to review The Color Purple to get me into the double digits, but Christmas day ended up being a busy one for me.) This year's top-performing review was for this summer's live-action remake of The Little Mermaid, as it should have been--I doubt whether I have ever subjected a film to more intense scrutiny before, or ever will again. I'd say that I'll try harder next year, but with the Hollywood landscape looking so dry over 2024, I don't know if that'll be possible.

    My essay count also came a little short in 2023. A part of this is a direct result of me trying to allow more time to elapse between premiering essays so that they each benefit from the extra attention, and of course wider cuts means fewer pieces of pie. I also just dropped October's essay too late to come up with a suitable replacement. This more than any other year has been plagued with essays that died halfway through development. Strands of some of these may find their way into future installments, so I don't want to give away what any of these ghost essays actually were (though one of them might have talked extensively about Die Hard, and that's all I'm gonna say... ). But take from this the assurance that the essays I ultimately landed on survived multiple screening processes and are much stronger for it. Rounding them up, this year's essays included the following: 

    -Are We in Another Golden Age of Musicals? - A survey of recent Hollywood musicals, probing the possibility of a modern creative and commercial resurgence of the genre. 

West Side Story (2021)
    -Lamb: The Controversy of Vulnerability - An in-depth study of the motivations behind the controversial film centering the precarious friendship between an older man and a neglected pre-teen girl.

    -A Thousand Words for Mamoru Hosada's Belle - A deconstruction of the common argument, that a film's visual splendor is at best a tertiary concern in film analysis, featuring the anime film Belle by Mamoru Hosada. 

    -The Night of the Hunter: Redefining Childhood Innocence - A look at the paradox represented by children's films through the lens of 1955 noir-classic, The Night of the Hunter

    -Bright Young Women: The Legacy of Ariel and The Little Mermaid - A celebration of Ariel, the titular heroine of Disney's The Little Mermaid, in the context of female representation in and out of Disney.

    -Where Are All the Netflix Classics? - An exploration of why Netflix's bounty of exclusive films leave little to no cultural impact. 

Netflix's The Old Guard (2020)
    -Making Room for Classic Movies - An advocation for the continued viewing and discussing of classic films even in the modern age.

    -I Will Not Forget that Power Rangers Reboot - A retrospective on the 2017 feature film reboot of "Power Rangers" and why it deserves far more attention and enthusiasm than it found upon release.

    -Hating Disney Princesses Has Never Been Feminist Pt. 1, 2, 3 - A three-part dive into the backlash against Disney Princess culture, weighing its motivations, truthfulness, and repercussions. 

    -Changing Film History With a Smile--and Perhaps, a Tear: Charlie Chaplin's The Kid - A tribute to Charlie Chaplin and the way his body of work shaped the development of film's place in popular culture, with special emphasis on his 1921 film, The Kid.

    I took to heart many of the goals I expressed in years past. For last year's Year in Review, I aired an idea of perhaps putting out pieces that tracked ideas or concepts within the film discussion that weren't themselves anchored to any specific film or series. I was able to get out more of those out this year than any year previous. This helped expand the total range of films that got attention, though I would be remiss to not acknowledge that I do feel most at my element doing deep-dives into just one or two films at a time. 

The Docks of New York (1928)
    I had also long wondered when I would finally have the gumption to premiere an entire essay about a silent film, and so I was really happy when things finally came together for one such film, and it didn't really surprise me that this film ended up being Charlie Chaplin's The Kid. I wonder when I'll get around to adding more to the roster.

    A common theme through this year's run of essays had a lot to do with how we define "classic," how films and audiences interact to create this thing called "the zeitgeist," and what happens when a film even gets there. I believe that is ultimately why we even discuss film in the first place. The whole conceit behind even throwing my hat into this oversaturated market of online self-appointed film critics is the urgent need to keep film literacy alive, and the foolhardy notion that I could ever be a link on that chain. Film criticism as an institution, across its many manifestations, is only valid to me if we accept the existence of a pantheon--if we abide by the notion that films and film have relevance beyond the transient window in which they premiere, which is why I believe we need to deliberately engage with films that aren't favored by an algorithm.

It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
        I have said before that the essay I am proudest of is always the one I just finished. I consider that to be an honest reflection of the love I have for my process and my ever-expanding body of work, but from this vantage point, I think I can identify one specific essay from this year that has perhaps served my ends more than any other: my piece on the necessity of viewing and discussing classic cinema. I invested a lot into the development and promotion of this essay, which is perhaps why it ended up being my most popular piece, even in a year where a lot of my posts performed exceptionally well.

    The last two years, I also gave some passing notion about spotlighting more niche films in this space. I was able to cash into that early this year with my piece on indie-film Lamb and anime-film Belle. And while I certainly enjoy tossing my hat in on why superhero movies are struggling as much as the next guy, I do feel a special urgency to try to give coverage to underappreciated movies of today. Because while I do think all media commentators have some obligation to keep the verified classics alive in the conversation, consideration also needs to be afforded to newly hatched classics that are just trying to crawl to safety before being erased. Earlier this year, director Richard Linklater bemoaned a certain loss of interest among contemporary film journalism surrounding niche films, saying, 

“There were these outlets that were very curious about what was going on in the avant-garde and the underground. And at some point, I don’t know if it’s just Hollywood or capitalism in general, the equation became, ‘Well, that thing’s small, no one’s going to see it anyway.’ Instead of amplifying this cool thing. It doesn’t qualify to be written about in our pages because it’s just not culturally relevant. And I think indie cinema has fallen prey to that. You don’t see a lot of serious writing about it.”

Ben is Back (2018)
    And there used to be better resources for tracking this sort of thing. IMDb used to have an indie-film spotlight on their main page that I actually referred to regularly. That is how I discovered Lamb, among many other films. I have seen many other critics of all pedigrees share similar anxieties, not only about the state of cinema, but of the frightening notion that maybe there's just nothing anyone can do about it. The inability for viewers to engage with niche cinema is only outpaced by their growing apathy toward it. This year has shown that we can't even lay the blame on tried and true targets like superhero movies. 

  In this riptide where media is everywhere yet media literacy is just kind of out the window and basically every kind of film is in desperate need of attention, I'm honestly still trying to figure out what my specific obligation is in this circle: What is the appropriate rate for niche essays? How do I even draw that line? But these are also things I am willing to figure out. 

    Anyways, to get this ball rolling, I'll be closing out this "Year in Review" with a non-comprehensive reference list of movies that desperately deserve more coverage. Here's hoping that they will be the happy recipients of many more conversations. 

    -Dave Made a Maze (2017): Discouraged by years of failed ambitions, a struggling artist retreats into a giant cardboard maze-fort he built in his living room; when his friends attempt to rescue him, they discover his maze is a lot bigger (and more dangerous) on the inside. 

Skeleton Twins (2014)
    -
Skeleton Twins (2014): After a failed suicide attempt, a man is reunited with his twin sister he hasn't seen in ten years, opening up old wounds for both of them but also posing an opportunity for genuine healing and reconciliation.

    -Beautiful Girls (1996): In the days leading up to their ten-year high school reunion, a group of friends with very specific ideas about love, reflect on their romances, their failed hopes, and their relationship with one another. 

    -Ben is Back (2018): A mother is surprised when her son, a recovering drug addict, shows up on her house on Christmas to spend the holiday with his family, but his demons aren't far behind him. 

    -Pieces of April (2003): An estranged daughter and her family prepare for what might be their last Thanksgiving dinner together before the mother succumbs to her terminal illness, a reunion that none of the parties are actually looking forward to.

    -Time Out (2001): A man who was let go from his job over six months ago spins increasingly elaborate deceptions to hide the truth of his unemployment from his wife, children, and friends. 

Running on Empty (1988)
    -
Running on Empty (1988): A teenager raised by two runaway fugitives starts to yearn for a life with roots and stability. 

    -Millennium Actress (2001): Two television reporters interview an aging actress and are swept up in her journey of self-reflection and self-discovery. 

    -April and the Extraordinary World (2015): In an alternate timeline where all the scientists of the early 20th century have been kidnapped, a young girl searches for her parents among the missing scientists and uncovers an elaborate conspiracy.

    -In Your Eyes (2014): Two strangers living on opposite sides of the country discover a telepathic bond that allows them to feel and sense each other's experiences.

    This world of film can be a fantastic thing when we bring our hearts and our heads with us and create the zeitgeist together. Let's keep doing this for a long time, folks, and let's make room for a lot of people at the table. 

                       --The Professor

The Holdovers (2023)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Toy Story 4: Pixar's Tribute to Regression

          It was about this time last year that I came across the one person who actually hated Toy Story 3 .          I was reading Jason Sperb’s book “Flickers of Film: Nostalgia in the Age of Digital Cinema” as part of my research for my essay on Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Pokemon: Detective Pikachu . It was in one of his chapters on the Pixar phenomenon that he shared his observation from the ending of Toy Story 3 , essentially casting the film as this nostalgia mousetrap for adults: “ If Andy lets go of his childhood nostalgia and moves on, then Toy Story fans don’t really have to , as the narrative recognition in the potential value in such an act is sufficient. Actually moving on becomes indefinitely deferred in an endless cycle of consumption (rewatching the movies, purchasing new versions of the movie, purchasing more and more Toy Story-related merchandise, rewatching them yet again with the next generat...

The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy of Clash of the Titans

  Anyone else remember the year we spent wondering if we would ever again see a movie that wasn't coming out in 3D?      T hat surge in 3D films in the early months of 2010 led to a number of questionable executive decisions. We saw a lot of films envisioned as standard film experiences refitted into the 3D format at the eleventh hour. In the ten years since, 3D stopped being profitable because audiences quickly learned the difference between a film that was designed with the 3D experience in mind and the brazen imitators . Perhaps the most notorious victim of this trend was the 2010 remake of Clash of the Titans .        Why am I suddenly so obsessed with the fallout of a film gone from the public consciousness ten years now? Maybe it's me recently finishing the first season of  Blood of Zeus  on Netflix and seeing so clearly what  Clash of the Titans  very nearly was. Maybe it's my  evolving thoughts on the Percy Jacks...

Thawing Disney's Frozen Heart

  As a millennial Disney fan and film student in utero, I often thought about what it would have been like to be there when Aladdin or The Little Mermaid , or even “Snow White” or The Jungle Book , premiered to the culture. It’s one thing to grow up and realize you have a piece of film history with you here in your living room. It’s another to get to watch the culture transform as it engages for the first time with something  And I have this envy for a great many cinematic works. Like, what I would give to go back to 1946 and tell those losers who dismissed It's a Wonderful Life how they had no idea what they were sleeping on. But the Disney canon’s place within the culture is also specific. Their interest in delivering hopeful stories to an audience that believes itself beyond such frailties as faith or kindness is unparalleled, and that makes their contributions worth studying and celebrating. And so I didn’t take it for granted during that period in late 2013/early 20...

REVIEW: Project Hail Mary

    The elements in Project Hail Mary are all mostly straightforward and build to a fairly familiar end: drop an average Joe into an extraordinary situation where he is required to be extraordinary also, and watch extraordinary things happen. This is proven territory.      And I spent most of the time drafting this review trying to decide whether that was a point for or against the film, helmed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller--and whether that made a difference for a non-franchise piece like this, the exact kind of film we need to succeed at the box office in order to have a healthy landscape. I think the answer to that question is honestly bigger than any one film, even a reasonably well-done one such as this.     But I will say that a movie like Project Hail Mary gives me some hope, and it's my wish that the film continues to find people who will receive it with zeal. And I hope that the people who do will continue to search for other films that they...

Some Much Needed Love for Megamind

    Following this year's Oscars ceremony, filmmakers Phil Lord and Chris Miller, directors of The Lego Movie , penned an op-ed for Variety bemoaning the stigma around animated films. They report taking issue with Naomi Scott, one of the presenters for best animated film, saying that animated films are some of the most formative experiences a kid has, and that kids tend to watch these films over and over, further noting "I think some of the parents out there know exactly what I'm talking about." Lord and Miller seemed to take this as implying that adults can't appreciate animated films, saying "Surely no one set out to diminish animated films, but it’s high time we set out to elevate them."                    I didn't personally find Scott's observation that kids make their parents watch the same animated films over and over again innately demeaning--certainly not any more than Schumer joking that her toddler made he...

Saying Goodbye to Stranger Things

     There's a quote from critic Mark Caro that I think about a lot. I shared it back when I did my critical survey of Pixar movies . Writing about Finding Nemo , Caro wrote in the  Chicago Tribune in 2003 , "Classic film eras tend to get recognized in retrospect while we take for granted timeless works passing before our eyes. So let's pause to appreciate what's been going on at Pixar Animation Studios."      I think that captures the aspirations of all active-minded media consumers. Or at least, it ought to. "This good thing won't last forever, so savor it before the sun goes down."  Modern Times (1936)      But this is also a very hard mindset to access in an online culture that is always seeking to stamp labels and scores on a thing before we shove it on the conveyor belt and move on to the next parcel.       It's something I have been thinking about for the last year or so as the completion of the Stranger ...

REVIEW: Supergirl

      Some will say, "We don't need another edgy superhero!" But that's not what makes the utter mediocrity of DC's new Supergirl so devastating. People were saying "We don't need another X superhero" since 2012, and the post-Infinity saga stupor we've slogged through was not triggered by piling one-too-many superheroes onto the camel's back.     The Flash sucked because its perversion of the butterfly effect theory was convoluted and ham-fisted. Black Adam sucked because nobody on that film knew what a moral dilemma actually looks like. "Love and Thunder" sucked because, despite what everyone thought in 2017, Waititi's style only barely worked in "Ragnarok" and was not going to work in a script which feels like it was farted out half-past midnight.     Supergirl had none of those issues. The real tragedy of Supergirl is that it so easily could have worked.     Drifting around the universe has mostly worked for Sup...

Children of a Lesser God: Between Sound and Silence

    So ... you all remember how I was really annoyed by The Power of the Dog ?      Despite being an early prediction for the big trophy, I found that attempt rather shallow and self-congratulatory. I am more than perfectly fine that the Best Picture award went to the much better CODA . I thought it was much more enjoyable as a piece of film, and unlike The Power of the Dog , it did showed honest interest in the community it was reporting to champion. In the case of CODA , that was, of course, the deaf community.      But it's actually not CODA I want to talk about in detail at this time. That movie's milestones exist along a timeline that extends ... further back than I can track today, but at least as far back as  March 30, 1987, when Marlee Matlin became the first deaf actor to receive an Academy Award for her performance in Children of a Lesser God . Randa Haines’ 1986 film centers on the romance between a hearing man and a deaf woman a...

Reveling in the Mixed Messages of Miss Congeniality

In book ten of Metamorphoses, Greek poet Ovid tells the tale of Pygmalion, a talented sculptor living in the height of ancient Greek society.      According to the story, Pygmalion’s sculpting prowess was so impeccable that one of his pieces, a marble woman he christened Galatea, was said to be the lovelier than any woman of flesh and blood. Pygmalion was so taken by his creation that he brought her exotic gifts, kissed her marble cheeks, even prepared a luxurious bed for her. Pygmalion so pined to be loved by Galatea that he prayed to the goddess Aphrodite to allow Galatea to reciprocate his love and affection. Aphrodite was apparently in a good mood that day, so she granted Pygmalion’s wish, giving life to Galatea, whom he then wed. The story of Pygmalion is in essence the story of a man who creates his own idealized woman out of whole cloth (or more appropriately, marble), endowing her with all the traits that he finds appealing or alluring. The story also provides a m...

The Notebook Has No Excuses

     The thing about film is … the more you think about it, the less sense it makes. Film tells us, even in a society obsessed with wealth and gain, “Remember, George, no man is a failure who has friends.” Film warns us that the most unnatural evil lies in wait at the Overlook Hotel and peeks out when all the guests leave for the winter–and that the heart of it resides in room 237–knowing we'll trip over ourselves wanting to open that door. Film is what makes us believe that the vessel for the deepest human emotion could be contained in a cartoon clownfish taking his unhatched cartoon son and holding him in his cartoon fin and telling him he will never let anything happen to him.  Nights of Cabiria (1957) Even when it tries to plant its feet aggressively in realism, film winds up being an inherently emotional realm. We feel safer to view and express all manners of passions or desires here in the space where the rules of propriety just don’t matter anymore. So a fa...