"2020 In Film: A Recap" (Part 1/3)
- Cizonite
- Apr 28, 2021
- 10 min read
Updated: Apr 29, 2021
Good a time as any to recap 2020 now that the Oscars have wrapped up in similarly anti-climactic fashion.
This is my bi-annual, not-really-consistent, earnest recap of the year in film (2020 Edition). I was compelled to post a review spread leading up to the Oscars last year, due to how unprecedentedly strong the line-up was. The films in 2019 ranged from blockbusters (Joker, 1917) to feel good acting masterclasses (Marriage Story, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood) to great films not even being nominated (Uncut Gems, The Farewell), all culminating in an absolutely deserving win for Parasite.
Then the world ended.
To quickly recap, lung-destroying virus, economic crises, human rights protests, online classes, presidential election, vaccines, European Super League. You know, your typical apocalypse.
That also meant the shuttering of cinemas all over the world. Film studios filed reports after reports of “shuffling schedule”. Some films fared better in the “Getting Seen” regard, being slapped onto streaming services for free or at a $30 dollar premium on top of the subscription (yes, looking at you Disney+).
Warner Bros. went one better, releasing their multi-million blockbusters simultaneously in theaters and HBO Max, an ingenious financial move for the homegrown streaming service if the results are anything to go by: They now own nine of the 17 number one openings at the box office, per Deadline.
Last year, I did a review spread of my 5 most favorite films in 5 days, uncharacteristic for yours truly inconsistent publication. With that being said, there weren’t many actual films released in 2020: films and productions were delayed months, even years into the future. So the 5-film spread seemed unrealistic in a year where many did not even see 5 films, concerned with other life-and-death stuff.
But I watched films. A lot. 287 of them, in fact.
It was my coping mechanism to the delayed reality, and it opened my eyes to an interesting mix of old-school classics, underseen gems, and, yes, films released in 2020.
After all, who am I to judge films if not someone doing films for a living?
So without further ado, here is “2020 In Film” (Part 1 of 3). And I am cheating a bit by including some films released in 2021: As they say, a film calendar begins and ends with the Oscars. But part 1 will not be on Best Picture.
Instead, these are Films Released in 2020/2021 that I Think Were Pretty Good AND Pretty Bad.
The good films are not necessarily “the best of the best”, nor are they Oscar-worthy, but are highly recommended nonetheless, either for them being rather easy and entertaining viewings, or that they offer some artistic values and emotional responses. And please do not be alarmed if you don’t see a 2020 film you like on this list: it’s probably being saved for another part in this series.
The bad films, on the other hand are just plain bad.
LET’S DIG IN TO OUR TITANIC TWELVE!
2020 Consensus: 4/10
Just to quickly get this out of the way: contrary to popular belief, 2020 had many films, but they were not widely or commercially released, and the general quality was truly lackluster, hence the phrase “Oh, no films were released in 2020.”
2020 films were littered with out-of-this-world bangers (Sound of Metal, Hamilton), understated gems (Palm Springs) and absolute bottom-bin junk (Corona Zombies, and yes that is an actual film I watched this year). It was a truly “indie” year for films, as seen through the Best Picture line-up consisting of low-budget dramas and thought-provoking genre offerings.
Films I Saw in 2020/2021 that I Think Were Pretty Bad
Well, we’re certainly starting on a happy note. And a controversial one by the first name on the list.
Da 5 Bloods: “A different kind of racism.”
I am saying it right now: Da 5 Bloods was my least-liked film in 2020. Cue pitchforks.
Spike Lee is an auteur, and we will never see anyone like him, but his style of filmmaking is not for everyone. He can be unsubtle, loud and too political for some tastes, but that makes for impressive filmmaking as well: he is a singular voice, and I admire him for his boldness and courage to represent Black people as truthfully as possible.
That being said, Da 5 Bloods was horribly offensive to Vietnamese people.
The film contains all the hallmarks of a Spike Lee joint: provoking imagery, sledgehammer dialogue and political commentaries on the state of structural racism against Black people and specifically Black soldiers. But it also paints Vietnamese people as unapologetic, backwards and violent, when in fact, none of those things are actually true.
Those who might say that I am missing the point of the film, that it represents the struggle of Black Americans soldiers during and after the Vietnam War and that Lee is not purposefully representing Vietnamese in a bad light, I say that you’re also not getting how disrespectful the film was: Lee knew better than to include real-life footages of massacres and moments Vietnamese do not want to relive. The fact that Lee tries to cover it up with anti-racism messages, PTSD and well-known Vietnamese actors does not excuse his American fever dream of Vietnam being this tropical jungle of exotic women and hidden treasures, serving as the backdrop or antagonist to the American struggle. Writer Viet Thanh Nguyen expressed this sentiment perfectly when asked about the film:
“I think what's basically missing is the perception of the Vietnamese people as humanity, pure and simple…”
The film certainly has its moments: Delroy Lindo and Chadwick Boseman are excellent, and the cinematography of Vietnamese landscapes are frequently impressive. But it does not detract from the poor pacing and the slapdash overbearing style of filmmaking Lee is so used to; his status does not give Lee the right to live his own American fantasy, or to poorly represent other minorities while doing so.
I Care A Lot: “Rosamund Pike plays a bitch, again.”
Rosamund Pike has been stereotyped into a very niche role: the psychotic, manipulative witch of a woman with great PR. She excels at it, and is a capable leading woman in any film which gives her this role. But whereas “Gone Girl” had a great plot surrounding her character, with characters you love-to-hate and a gripping mystery, I Care A Lot is just the cynicism dialed up to eleven: Pike plays an even more despicable character who tricks old people into nursing home, then liquidates their assets for her own monetary purposes.
The film is filled with unlikeable characters and unnecessary narcicissm, especially during the context of last year. As much as Pike shines in the lead role, I Care A Lot is all style and no substance, and neither entertains nor provokes much introspection afterwards.
Gretel & Hansel: “Pretty garbage.”
The subversive adaptation of the classic fairy tale, Gretel & Hansel was one of the rare theatrical release before COVID hit, and went away as quietly as it came. Why? Because it was pretty bad.
As beautiful as the cinematography is, and as good as Sophia Lillis is as Gretel, the film plays like an uninspired origin story for Gretel as a psychic superhero, and fails at surrounding its few creepy moments and atmospheric production design with a worthwhile story.
A big skip.
Peninsula: “4 years… for this?”
Perhaps the biggest disappointment of the year, if not for its full title (Train To Busan Presents: Peninsula), no one would have given this dumpster fire a second thought.
A sequel only by name, Peninsula is a weak, meandering mess of a film, filled to the brim with PS2-era visual effects and slapdash, uninspired set pieces. Its biggest weakness, however, lied in the characters: the original film lived and died by its colorful cast of relatable misfits. Director Yeon Sang-ho, in trying to capture more out of the novel zombie genre, ended up with so much less, resulting in forgettable and frequently unlikeable characters.
A soulless, Americanized hybrid of a bore, it's a hard no for me.
Now that we have ended that sour note, let us move on to greener pastures.
Cậu Vàng: “It’s not even funny bad.”
To mirror Brad Pitt’s Moneyball quote:
"There are good films and there are poor films. Then there’s fifty feet of crap, and then there’s Cậu Vàng."
The absolute worst film I watched in 2020/2021, and perhaps in the last 5 years, Cậu Vàng was funny to a point, and then it was just painful. This film is what happens when lacklustre filmmaking meets poor production, shrivelled in a box of money, and capped off with horrendous PR management.
Not a single thing about this film was good, and I do not say that often.
Honorable Mention - Kiều: “What a way to waste $25 billion VND”
Vietnam’s best so-bad-it’s-good film of 2021, Kiều is so frequently hilarious and stupid that I would not dare say that it is bad: I had a really fun time in a theater with 6 other people, who all laughed at the unintentional comedy, bad VFX, wooden performances, and nonsensical script. But that’s not a ringing endorsement: the film is so poorly put together, so full of vanity from the director (who also has an extended role in the film), that to see it is to believe how bad it truly is.
Disclaimer: Remove any knowledge of “Kieu” by Nguyen Du at the door. It’s…a big departure in quality to put it lightly.
Films I Saw in 2020/2021 that I Think Were Pretty Good
Ròm: “Vietnam’s Mad Max.”
Ròm is not a perfect film, far from it even. The film clearly went through a rushed production, and the low budget frequently shows its weakness, and the overall reaction to the film was a nondescript shrug, as indicated through its front-loaded box office performance (it made the bulk of its money on the first Friday).
But it’s still better than 90% of what was offered in theaters last year, made all the more significant by it being so obviously a labor of love from Tran Thanh Huy.
Ròm is essentially an 80-minute adrenaline rush derived from the simple concept of a boy running and selling lottery results. It is hard not to admire how much effort went into shooting the film, even with all the production hardships (Tran Thanh Huy needed 8 years to fund and finish the film) pushed aside: every single moment in the film feels carefully calculated and shot with such energy that you can’t help but go along for the ride. The characters are extremely likable, fronted by two committed, star-making turns from Huy’s brother, Tran Anh Khoa and newcomer Tu Wilson. The action is visceral, the cinematography is beautiful, the colors pop from the screen, and the soundtrack is *chef’s kiss*.
A highly recommended watch if you haven’t seen it.
The Rental: “Is Dave Franco secretly better than his brother?”
Dave Franco’s directorial debut, The Rental is a high-concept horror about two couples’ trip to an isolated AirBnb villa, where betrayals, tensions and lust take over for a whirlwind weekend. To top it all off, there’s a murderer trying to bash their brains in.
For his first film, Franco shows a good eye for building atmosphere and characters: the cinematography is crisp and full of ominous blue hues, and the main cast (led by Dan Stevens and Franco’s wife, Alison Brie) puts in top-drawer performances. The jarring tonal shift between drama and horror might not be especially smooth, but it’s an effective, contained thriller nonetheless, and puts Franco amongst the most promising talents for the future.
Tigertail: “Your typical Netflix tearjerker.”
A loving ode to Taiwanese filmmaking from Master of None’s co-creator Alan Yang, Tigertail is a quiet, often moving film about familial bonds and the Eastern sense of nationality under Western influences. Tzi Ma, who played the father from The Farewell, carries the movie as Pin-jui, a poor Taiwanese labor worker who changes his life upon marrying the wealthy Yuan Lee, whose family had agreed to pay for their migration to the U.S.
A generation-spanning film, Tigertail is representative of the flawed American Dream through Pin-jui, who, trapped between a loveless marriage and a sense of duty to his idyllic version of America, is forced to live a life full of regrets and broken relationships. It shares similarities with Minari, but Tigertail is its own beast, and well worth a watch for any Asians who might feel disenchanted with how their lives have ended up.
Uncorked: “No movie about sommeliers should be this interesting”
Released just before lockdown happened, Uncorked was unfortunately lost in the stream of daily Covid numbers as well as the paranoia from people trying to navigate a new way of life, which is a crying shame because it’s a handsomely made, entertaining movie.
Uncorked is an in-depth look into the novel world of wine and sommeliers, capturing the trials and tribulations of Elijah to become a Master Sommelier, all while he has to carry the family BBQ business forward. It sounds boring, but Uncorked does to wine what The Social Network did for Facebook and what Moneyball did for baseball analytics: it’s an intoxicating film filled with love and a beating heart, and you would be remiss not to give the film a chance.
Ordinary Love: “Liam Neeson’s special set of skills vs. Cancer”
Headlined by arguably the two most masterful and understated performances of the year, Ordinary Love is a story about, well, an ordinary love. And then breast cancer beats that love up with a rock-sized mass. Heartbreak ensues.
Dubbed as The Fault In Our Stars for adults, Ordinary Love takes a very grounded and deeply somber look at cancer, and its rippling effects to the central couple of Joan and Tom Thompson, played to utter perfection by Liam Neeson and Lesley Manville. The story is nothing groundbreaking, but the film is made with such subtlety and care that it’s hard not to feel compelled by the end.
A much slower and moving film than others on the list, but a great one nonetheless. Seek it out for the performances, and stay for the emotions.
The World’s A Little Blurry: “Billie had a boyfriend?”
And no, I’m not saying the best part of the film is that a successful female artist has a boyfriend. It’s simply the most surprising reveal in the documentary, and it would probably be how I get my friends to watch the film.
The World’s A Little Blurry is Apple TV’s glitzy, monumental achievement of a documentary, offering a deep (and I mean, DEEP) dive into teenage music sensation Billie Eilish, the creation of her debut album “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?”, as well as her process of coping with the newfound stardom.
Most musician documentaries run the risk of being boring, surface-level exploration of superstars: just this year, Shawn Mendes graced our Netflix subscription with Shawn Mendes: In Wonder, a wet blanket of a documentary that never goes beyond what we already know about the artist. Others which encountered the same problem include Justin Bieber: Never Say Never, Gaga: Five Foot Two, and Apple’s very own Beastie Boys Story.
But if we’re lucky, every now and then a Miss Americana, Beyonce’s Homecoming and Katy Perry: Part of Me will come along, and The World’s A Little Blurry makes a very strong case for being the best of the bunch, giving incredible insights into the DIY superstar, packaged with incredible home footage and the usual high standards of production value. It also helps that Eilish herself, despite endless online slander, is extremely likable and down-to-earth, making for a protagonist we all want to see succeed. The only reason why I am putting it here instead of the Oscar post is because it was released when the nominations have already been finalized.
Running at a meaty 140 minutes, this is a film not only for Billie Eilish die-hards, but it is for anyone who might feel lost in this world, or that it might seem a little blurry at times.
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And that’s it for Part 1 of “2020 In Film: A Recap”. I’ll see you all on Part 2.
If you’ve made it this far, you’re either my best friend, or you just love films as much as I do. Give these films a watch and see if you feel the same way.
Signing off.
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