There were more than 900 movies released in theaters in 2019. Even more went directly to streaming platforms. These are the 50 best, according to the Film School Rejects team.
More often than not, calling a film “personal” is an unnecessary and assumptive descriptor that says little to nothing about the movie itself. The Souvenir is the exception. Joanna Hogg’s semi-autobiographical drama concerns a young filmmaker in the 1980s played by Honor Swinton Byrne in what deserves to be a star-making performance. Julie (Swinton Byrne) is upper-class and attempting to negotiate the tension between her status and her desire to make films about those without the privilege she too often takes for granted. Through this, she finds herself in a relationship with an older, troubled man. What is so incredible about The Souvenir (and, in turn, why I think it’s been so ignored by many) is that despite being crafted with a degree of hindsight, the film never offers any clear answers to the questions it mulls over. There’s no epiphany or moment of catharsis that tells us we’re now allowed to feel good about the story. It all feeds into the idea that these formative moments for Julie — and, by extension, for Hogg — aren’t problems that get cleanly resolved. These aren’t events that she lives through, they’re what she lives with. (Anna Swanson)
After her 2014 debut with The Babadook, Jennifer Kent became a name to look out for in the horror genre. Then came her second film, The Nightingale, which is truly horrifying but for very different reasons. With The Nightingale, Kent brutally puts on display the atrocities that occurred in the penal colonies of Tasmania in the 19th century at the hands of the British. Centered on the story of Clare (Aisling Franciosi) and her aboriginal guide Billy (Baykali Ganambarr), it is a story about seeking revenge on those who have taken everything from you. It is a film often critiqued for its brutality, but I believe that brutality is necessary in conveying its point. Kent does not want to sanitize history or make it palatable; she wants to confront it head-on. It is a daring and necessary take on the rape-revenge tale that is understandably difficult to watch, but extremely important for our current cultural moment. (Mary Beth McAndrews)
It’s rare for franchises to get better with each passing sequel, but the John Wick series is a beautiful exception. The third installment cranks up the action and explores the mythology even further, as Wick (Keanu Reeves) ventures deeper into the criminal underbelly in a bid to clear his name after breaking the Continental’s rules in John Wick: Chapter 2. Along the way, he rides horses to evade assassins and teams up with dogs to destroy those who stand in his way. The film also scores points for giving a prominent role to Mark Dacascos, who’s been lowkey killing it for decades without receiving a fraction of the recognition he deserves. John Wick: Chapter 3 is a reminder that Hollywood is capable of making fun action films that fully embrace the visceral qualities of the genre, and its success is proof that audiences are hungry for more movies like it. (Kieran Fisher)
War is an intense experience by design, but where most war films pair action sequences with plot, drama, and downtime, Sam Mendes’ latest takes a far more urgent and immersive approach. The film employs a real-time, single-shot format — both are played with smartly, but the effect remains — that drops viewers directly into the experience alongside two British soldiers on a mission. We follow them across battlefields, through tunnels, down raging rivers, and more, and the legendary Roger Deakins captures it with equal parts awe, beauty, and terror. It’s a thrilling watch deserving to be seen on the biggest screen possible. (Rob Hunter
Ten years ago, filmmakers Steven Bognar and Julie Reichert earned an Oscar nomination for their short documentary The Last Truck: Closing of a GM Plant, which profiles autoworkers in Moraine, Ohio, in the final days of a General Motors factory. Years later, the former auto assembly plant was bought and repurposed as a glass factory by the Chinese company Fuyao, prompting the local directors to return to the Dayton suburb to document its transition with a feature. And more strikingly, to document the adaptation of the town and its citizens, who depend on the plant for jobs in the community, to a different kind of work ethic. American Factory, which became Barack and Michelle Obama’s first film as presenters following its acquisition by Netflix at Sundance, is revelatory and alarming. While observing a specific story with remarkable access to everyone from the billionaire CEO of Fuyao to the laborers manning the machines to produce windshields, the documentary addresses issues about where employment is heading in America, economically and socially. Bognar and Reichert keep a rather neutral lens on the culture clash and the politics, but that makes the film even stronger as it represents the quiet surrounding the issues on a grand scale. (Christopher Campbell)