Photo credit: Sony Pictures
Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
It’s always hard to write a year-end film list if you’re a film critic (or buff) in Milwaukee. The problem is that many movies acclaimed by critics on the coasts have not yet or will never be booked commercially in our city. Even Oscar nominees trickle into town during the early months of the new calendar. And so, to write about this honestly and not pretend that I have access to some Korean cult director beloved by the L.A. Times but unseen in these parts, I’ll stick to films that actually opened on Milwaukee’s big screens in 2019.
Also, I have trouble with the term “best-of” and would rather go with the more honest “favorites” of the year. I don’t claim godlike powers to proclaim what’s best and what’s worst. Like everyone, I have favorites but—as a critic—I have to support my choices with well-reasoned opinions.
Two of my favorite films from last summer were criticized for being long and slow by people with truncated attention. For those folks, four minutes of YouTube is like Lawrence of Arabia. The two “long” films from last summer, Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood and Ari Aster’s Midsommar, have little in common aside from length and leisurely pace—and the willingness to look deeply at a particular set of characters and situations. Jump cuts and quick editing are a valid style but so is an aesthetic (especially prominent in Midsommar) that slows down the passage of time and allows viewers to fully absorb the story and setting.
The year 2019 was good for films that creatively explored the grim psychology underlying our present-day world. Director Todd Phillips’ Joker isn’t just an origin story for a comic book character but an imaginative exploration of social and personal problems. Victor Kossakovsky’s documentary, Aquarela, is a visual poem on the destruction of our world through climate change. Imagination was one draw for picking my favorites. The time-travel aspects of Danny Boyle’s Yesterday may be silly but served as a launch pad for a fascinating—and yes, imaginative—tale of pop culture and nostalgia.
And speaking of nostalgia, anyone who cares about Hollywood history should seek out the overlooked picture on the last days of the comedy duo Laurel & Hardy, played endearingly by Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly in Stan & Ollie. Also moving in its depiction of a star from Hollywood’s golden age, Judy starred Renee Zellweger as the doomed Judy Garland. Unlike the lip-synch practice in those golden years of moviemaking, the film’s star, Zellweger, actually sang her parts.
From the art house came at least two films exquisite in their cinematography and storytelling: Kenneth Branagh as William Shakespeare in All is True and Oleg Ivenko as Rudolf Nureyev in director Ralph Fiennes’ The White Crow. From the American indie sector comes Julianne Moore as the title character of Gloria Bell, a woman midway through middle age with an uncertain present and an even less certain future.
The Elton John biographical picture, Rocketman, was enjoyable despite historical infelicities. For people looking for fact-based films on music, at least three good documentaries surfaced in Milwaukee theaters this year. Hosted by Jakob Dylan (son of…), Echo in the Canyon sifts through the L.A. music scene of the ‘60s, especially the influence of The Byrds and Brian Wilson and includes performances of period music by some of Jakob’s generational peers. David Crosby: Remember My Name is a surprisingly fascinating running dialogue between the singer-songwriter and director A.J. Eaton with stops on the way for places from the past. Marianne & Leonard: Words of Love looks at the formative first chapter of Leonard Cohen’s long vocation as the troubadour of souls seeking the palace of wisdom along the road of excess. The lively Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice is built on a priceless trove of archival footage and photos and is told in Ronstadt’s voice—with the help of a slew of collaborators such as Ry Cooder, Bonnie Raitt and David Geffen.
Departing from the grim themes of several favorite films of 2019 is an amusing yet serious dramatization of Mister Rogers, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood. Tom Hanks fully inhabits the cardigan-wearing figure familiar to millions who grew up with him—or grew up with the parodies. Rogers is easy to spoof, but Hanks dials it right. He gets that pinched but authentic smile, that awkward yet assured body language, that peculiar emotional essence. A Beautiful Day explores Rogers’ subversive mission. Aware that American television existed largely to sell things, with kids shows mining an emerging market, Rogers used the medium instead as a way of giving children vivid examples of how to live.
