Top Twenty of 2012

Christmas is going, the geese are presumably losing weight and it's the end of another year. Which means it's time for me to cast my eye back over the year in film and pick out twenty of my favourites.

But first, a New Years Resolution

Over the past few months, several (okay, about three) people have asked me what happened to this blog, and even told me to start writing again. Unfortunately over the last semester I was swamped by university work and ran out of time for blogging. I want to apologise for anyone who feels they've been unable to attend the cinema without my guidance (indulge me) and I promise I will be back to wasting my life writing about things I've seen on a screen very shortly. We're heading into awards season now, so I'll have plenty to chew one. Sorry for the absence, and thanks for reading.

And now back to the list...

A few disclaimers:

• This is not an attempt to make a definitive 'Best of the Year' list. Neither is it entirely down to personal preference. Instead it is an attempt to bridge those two, although it ended up being a completely arbitrary list of films that tumbled into an order that looked about right.
• All entries are based on UK release date.
• I tried hard to catch up with as much as possible, but here are a few films that I wasn't able to see in time to be considered: Argo, Rust & Bone, The Grey, Tabu, 5 Broken Cameras, The Innkeepers, This Is Not a Film, Silver Linings Playbook, Goodbye First Love, Life of Pi, Room 237

20. Into The Abyss- The year wouldn't be complete without anything from Werner Herzog. His documentary on the American death penalty found time for small moments of humanity and compassion while still tackling the big questions of what drives a person, and indeed a state, to kill. Although the sense that he's preaching to the choir makes this something of a lesser Herzog film, he makes clear his objection to the death penalty early on and remains objective throughout.

19. Magic Mike- One of the most unexpected surprises of the year came from Steven Soderbergh's ageing male-stripper drama that took its cake, then decided to eat it anyway. It's an exploitation film that doesn't exploit and a film with morals that doesn't moralise. Soderbergh never once seems to be excusing his subject matter, and it's the sort of film where a group of male strippers sit on a beach discussing share prices and the economy.

18. Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai- Takashi Miike has never been a director know for his restraint, which makes this slow burning remake of a Japanese classic (which I'll confess to never having seen) all the more surprising. It's an elegantly bleak peeling back of the Samurai myth to reveal the gangrenous flesh beneath. If there's a problem, it's that after the ominous opening, the middle is so restrained that it almost grinds to a halt, but it finds its feet again for a stunning finale.

Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai

17. Cosmopolis- A surprisingly low showing for Cosmopolis, given my love for David Cronenberg and my endless gushing about it after leaving the cinema. Perhaps in hindsight it's a little too cold for its own good, lacking in re-watchability. Still, it's an intelligent and razor sharp offering from the Canadian auteur, and it proves there's more to Robert Pattinson than sparkly vampires.

16. The Hunt- Thomas Vinterberg mainly has old ideas to put forward in his tale of an innocent man accused of child abuse, but he screams them with a forceful sincerity that's impossible to fault. It's a disturbingly timely release, and the magnificently downtrodden central performance from Mad Mikkelsen takes you into the heart of a community gripped by hysteria.

The Hunt

15. Skyfall- Skyfall seems to contain all the usual building blocks of a Bond film, but they're carefully slid into place to show off their unexplored angles in one of the most solidly enjoyable entries in the entire franchise. Maybe it's goodwill after the awful Quantum of Solace, the foregrounding of the formidable Judi Dench, or the titanic presence of a scenery chewing Javier Bardem. Even the usually portentous Sam Mendes seems to be enjoying himself as he blows the cobwebs off a creaky old skeleton of a franchise, and it's hard not to share in his enthusiasm.

14. Killer Joe- 2012 marked the resurgence of Matthew Mcconaughey, and nowhere was he better than as the title character in William Friedkin's Southern-fried noir. His blood-freezing performance gave an icy core to the swampy waters of the rest of the film, but less obvious is the brilliant Juno Temple. It does for fried chicken what Reservoir Dogs did for Stuck In the Middle With You.

Killer Joe

13. Berberian Sound Studio- Toby Jones remains one of the most dependable character actors working today, and it's his solid presence that holds Peter Strickland's not-quite-horror down where otherwise it might blow away. It's a magnificently creepy film about the insidious possibilities of sound, but it has a third act that goes up one gear too many. Strickland pogos head first off the diving board of narrative sense, but overshoots his mark and ends up further out in uncharted waters than he probably intended.

12. Beasts of the Southern Wild- It falls short of the poetic masterpiece status thrust upon it at it's festival showings, but this debut from Benh Zeitlin is still packed with a creativity and imagination that's hard to fault. Its amateur cast rise to the challenge admirably, with the impossibly young Quvenzhané Wallis proving to be a miniature force of nature. Its reach ultimately exceeds its grasp, but its ambition is admirable. 

11. Marth Marcy May Marlene- Of all the films I was forced to leave out of my top ten, this was the most heartbreaking decision. But in the end, it had to be done, even if it is a beautifully constructed horror story of shifting identities, and the central performance by Elizabeth Olsen is one of the year's very best. Take it then not as a failure for this film, but as a testament to just how good a year 2012 really was.

10. The Cabin in The Woods- There's no shortage of writers and directors trying to be the new wild child of cinema. Drew Goddard and Joss Whedon seem content to be Hollywood's resident smart-arses. The Cabin in the Woods is at once a loving tribute and a parentally concerned satire of horror that pokes around in its very mechanics with a pair of rusty, blood-stained tweezers. It is also, quite possibly, the funniest film I saw all year, and features the finest use of a unicorn ever.

9. Sightseers- There's something sick at the heart of Britain in this perfect storm from director Ben Wheatley and stars/writers Steve Oram and Alice Lowe as the couple on a caravan killing spree. Like Mike Leigh making Video Nasties, it's a delicate balancing act between icy black humour, mean spirited horror and some delicate social commentary. It's a testament to the three main talents that it never once falters. It doesn't have the sheer disarming weirdness of Wheatley's Kill List, but it will ensure that you never hear The Power of Love in quite the same way again.

The Imposter

8. The Imposter- 2012 was a brilliant year for documentaries, and few were finer than Bart Layton's The Imposter. Its 'so mad it must be true' story sees the missing child of an American family miraculously returned to them, albeit the wrong age, hair colour and with a French accent. Could it be that he's not who he says he is? (Hint: he isn't) It could be a film about the fluidity of identity or the elusivity of truth, but mostly its worth the watch for the moments where you wonder if it's all a hoax.

7. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia- Once again we find ourselves watching a search for the truth. This time it's a long dark night of the soul as a group of police, a doctor, a prosecutor and a murder suspect search aimlessly for a body on the Anatolian steppe. Unfolding at a languorous pace, we slowly come to learn more about these disparate characters, and that all of them hold their own secrets. It's the kind of film you can watch over and over again, picking up new layers of meaning from the tiniest of nuances every single time. Even now I'm wondering if it should be slightly higher. Perhaps time will see it slowly creeping past the next few titles.

6. Searching for Sugarman- It seems that all the best documentaries this year were concerned with finding the truth. Searching for Sugarman was about the search for the truth behind the myth of Sixto Rodriquez; an American singer from the 60s who faded into obscurity everywhere except South Africa. There he became a hero to anti-apartheid liberals, who assumed he was as big as Dylan or The Beatles in America. It's a powerful and uplifting exploration of the necessary building of a myth, and it will introduce you to the poetic protest-folk of Rodriguez himself.

5. The Raid- Some films make you consider the infinite possibilities of life, the universe and everything. And then there are some where people get their heads smashed to a pulp and their shins kicked into splinters. The Raid is one of the finest, most blood-splatteringly violent action movies I have ever seen. The feats of physicality are more impressive than a dozen histrionic Oscar-bait performances and director Gareth Evans puts Hollywood to shame with his demonstration of the way great action should be shot. Perhaps the best praise I can give to The Raid is that I can imagine it still being passed around by word of mouth many years from now.

The Raid

4. Amour- The title is in no way ironic. Haneke may have spent his career lambasting bourgeois complacency, but this is a painfully frank and honest depiction of love in the twilight of life. It helps that the performances by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva are so rounded and beautifully understated. But its refusal to look away from their suffering makes it a hard film to watch. A perfect film then, a beautiful one and a truly great one. But I don't think I can ever watch it again.

3. Moonrise Kingdom- No one could ever doubt Wes Anderson's formal brilliance or his off-kilter humour, but with Moonrise Kingdom he finally found what he seemed to have lost: a heart. He clearly cares about his lovestruck young runaways just as much as the adults searching for them, making this his warmest and funniest dissection of American dysfunction in a long while. An esteemed cast inlcuding Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Frances McDormand and Tilda Swinton bring their deadpan best, but this is a film that belongs to its child stars. There's no smugness of precociousness here, just brilliant performances and rounded characters trying to find there place in a world of skewed wonders. Is it a better film than Amour? No, but this is my personal list, and I say it goes here.

Moonrise Kingdom

Which brings us to the top spot. That's right, after making you read through the whole list I still haven't given you a simple Number 1. I found it impossible to choose between these two, and so here are my joint first films of the year:

1. Holy Motors & The Master

The Master

The Master- I have to confess first that I'm an unashamed, card carrying member of the cult of Paul Thomas Anderson. He's one of the bravest filmmakers working today, continuously casting off the shackles of his influences as he expands upon his own mercurial vision. With The Master, he continues forward on the journey into America's heart of darkness that he began with There Will Be Blood. This is a post-war America of shattered lives and aimless souls, bathed in the glow of stunning cinematography as they desperately search for meaning and for the comfort of the past. It features three of the year's best performances from Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams, but it's as much a triumph for Anderson himself. He's assembled it in an almost collage manner, free-wheeling between disconnected scenes of character study. I fully understand why this put so many people off, but personally I'd be happy to sit through every second that Anderson shot.

Holy Motors

Holy Motors- What can I tell you about Leos Carax' Holy Motors? That it's a kaleidoscopic, surreal, pyschogenic fugue of myriad meanings? All that is true, but it would only serve to make it sound horribly portentous, and to make you stop reading. It would fail to take into account just how enjoyable, how funny and how full of life Holy Motors really is. The extraordinary Denis Lavant plays Oscar, an enigmatic man ferried around Paris in a limousine, adopting a series of disguises for his increasingly surreal encounters. It is strange and it might well be meaningful, but it also has a gleeful wit and brio as it pinballs from one bizarre scenario to another. Perhaps we're supposed to read meaning into this jumble. Or perhaps we're supposed to sit back and enjoy the ride as Oscar becomes a mad vagrant, a disapproving father, a violent thug, a smooth businessman. It's cinematic spectacle without the restraint that comes with making sense, and it's all the better for it. Oscar tells us this himself, when asked what makes him continue: “What made me start”, he replies “the beauty of the act.”