Assessing the films that help us see and think
Are Americans so susceptible to media influence that they agree to the condescension that overwhelms us daily — epitomized by the conspiracy of silence over Joe Biden’s infirmity but not his policies? Or acceptance of the J6 show trial and the accompanying political persecutions?
Brainwashing corruption also occurs at the movies, proven by the year’s highest-grossing film, Inside Out 2, a sophomoric rationalization of the psychological effects of Covid psyops. (Think of shelter-in-place remote education and those student laptops symbolized by the Pixar control panel inside teenage Riley’s head.)
The auto-analysis sold in Inside Out 2 proves that more people are duped by media influence and promotional hype than we imagine — thus their dedication to Pixar, Marvel, and adversarial politics.
But ethical, critical thinking and aesthetics survive in the Midyear Reckoning. Against the mind-control fantasy of Inside Out 2, here’s an alphabetical listing of the best films to open this year — the films that really help us to see and think about everything we’re going through.
Challengers, by Luca Guadagnino, uses a tennis-match metaphor for the gender games played on Gen Z, leaving them frustrated, unprincipled and lost.
Coup de Chance, by Woody Allen, almost critiques the bourgie culture that betrayed him, but envy keeps smugness stuck in his head.
Daddio, by Christy Hall, insists on a tender, honest rapprochement between men and women, the sexual archetypes now demeaned as “cisgender.”
Don’t Expect Too Much from the End of the World, by Rade Jude, revives Godard’s cinematic wit to demonstrate how Seventies fascist Romania reflects the current decline of Western civilization. So far, the year’s funniest movie.
Drive-Away Dolls, by Ethan Coen, is the year’s second-funniest film, a lesbian road movie where the conflict between love and choice is alternately dumbfounding and satirical.
Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara, by Marco Bellocchio, is a sumptuously complex history in which Catholicism and Jewish tradition clash. The true story of a boy’s Italian identity crisis is uncannily timely.
Last Summer, by Catherine Breillat, boldly surveys feminist privilege in a legal-vs.-illicit May-December love/narcissism story. An unexpected critique of sexual prerogative.
Loneliness, by Alasdair McLellan, turns a Pet Shop Boys career retrospective (and plangent song) into a memory movie that’s really about contemporary moral awakening.
The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, by Guy Ritchie, shifts from punk nihilism to romantic patriotism to an unexpected James Bond movie.
The Palace, by Roman Polanski, takes aim at the diabolical rottenness of the global elite, then tries to laugh at it. Take a hint, Woody Allen.
Perfect Days, by Wim Wenders, follows an elderly public-facilities custodian facing irrelevance while clinging to beauty and regret. Ozu crossed with trenchant but not obvious pop music.
Rebel Moon – Part 2: Scargiver, by Zack Snyder, is a rough-draft continuation of last year’s A Child of Fire. Snyder revamps Star Wars, rejecting George Lucas’s childishness and Disney’s craven indifference.
Robot Dreams, by Pablo Berger, shows Pixar how to do animation for thinking adults — a poignant meditation on partnership and existential love.
Shirley by John Ridley recalls the life and career of Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm. Regina King’s performance makes us nostalgic for when politicians had principles greater than allegiance to the Democrat Party plantation.
Spaceman, by Johan Renck, adapts Kafka’s “Metamorphosis” for the modern age and is made moving by star Adam Sandler, an Everyman for these Kafkaesque times.