Best of 2019

The best films I saw in 2019:

Honourable mentions for Rocketman, Toy Story 4, How to Train Your Dragon 3, The King, The Irishman, John Wick: Chapter 3.

1. Le Mans '66

An absolutely riveting story told through two crowd pleasing performances from Matt Damon and a magnetic Christian Bale. The film is funny, old school and at times thunderous, with the racing scenes being utterly enthralling. The sequence where Bale's Ken Miles is told to go full throttle is euphoric. And then that scene is one upped by the 'perfect lap'. It is neither too fancy or too artistic and nor is it too cliche. It is just a simple story told brilliantly. 

2. Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood 

Another buddy film, this is a Quentin Tarantino paradox; being both indulgent for old Hollywood but also the least indulgent in QT's filmography. The violence only occurs right at the end, the narrative is largely told chronologically... apart from the feet shots this is the least Tarantino film going. Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt make for two stellar leads, a Paul Newman and Robert Redford for 2019. Margot Robbie, as en emblem of innocence and fun as Sharon Tate, is great, and the sprawling supporting cast all make the most of their short scenes. On first viewing this was unbearably tense, knowing the story of Sharon Tate. Watching her laze around Hollywood made me constantly uneasy, allowing the third act twist to be one of the most cathartic cinematic experiences ever. A hang-out film with top performances and lavish period detail, but this felt like a film made for me: its nods to westerns and back-lot studios being extremely awesome. 

3. Joker 

The hit that nobody saw coming, Joker gassed its way to over $1 billion worldwide and a place in the cultural zeitgeist. Joaquin Phoenix is sensational, the score is grimy and unsettling and the photography is impressive. But its the ambiguity that stays with you; a second viewing reveals and contradicts things from the first viewing. For other films this would be a continuity problem, for Joker, with its unreliable narrator, it makes for thrilling discussion. And to think all that controversy was for nothing. 

4. Marriage Story 

Adam Driver is becoming one of the finest actors of his generation thanks to his work in Star Wars, BlackKklansmen and Silence among others, and Marriage Story will surely land him a Best Actor actor nomination. He is effortlessly emotive, and Scarlett Johansson also stops by to give her strongest performance of her career. Randy Newman backs the story, about navigating a divorce and custody, with gentle piano. Its more a film to watch, feel and be entranced by then one that I can really sell with words. 

5. Ad Astra 

Four of these films are original releases, with Joker being original in its backstory but also derivative of Scorsese classics. These films all reaffirmed my faith in original cinema, and Ad Astra, a gentle science fiction odyssey with a nine figure budget is an example of taking risks, Whilst not the most profitable of films, this is a gorgeous space film. Brad Pitt shines as an introverted astronaut and Hoyte van Hoytema's photogrphy drips with colour and clarity. A chase on the moon is astonishing in its sound design (or lack of) and the opening is edge of your seat. Not many boast the heady themes and philosophy to accompany the set pieces, Ad Astra does. 

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (and the pitfalls of poor planning)

In 2015's The Force Awakens we are introduced to Kylo Ren and his helmet. It is intact and well maintained. In 2017's The Last Jedi, that helmet is shattered into fragments in an act of  anger and defiance. And now, in 2019's biggest disappointment The Rise of Skywalker, that helmet is reforged and stuck back together, though the cracks still show. If there were was ever a metaphor for Star Wars' 'sequel' trilogy, then it's Ren's helmet. TFA was made to revive nostalgia for the originals and bring abroad the three generations of Star Wars fans onto a new story. TLJ  effectively retconned its predecessor, obliterating the narrative arc that was set up and trying something new and bold. TROS clutches at the few remaining straws that TLJ didn't eradicate in an attempt to fix and restore some sort of continuity to an overall poorly produced and written trilogy. What went wrong?

I think there is a unanimity that JJ Abrams' TFA is an acceptable Star Wars film; it does retread A New Hope's mythic story but audiences enjoyed it, saw it again and were keen to see where the story headed next. I watched the film several hours before the midnight screening of TROS and whilst there are an abundance of changes I would make (remove Starkiller Base for starters) it is a breezy and fun enough film to sit and enjoy. Then there is TLJ. Unanimity does not apply to this sequel; in fact the only unanimity towards this film is that it is, ironically, divisive. Replacing Abrams for directing duties was Rian Johnson, a talented enough filmmaker. But given both script and behind the camera duties allowed Johnson a reasonable degree of carte blanche and so audiences were given a film that they did not know how to respond to: the heroic Luke was a grumpy hermit, super baddie Snoke was briskly done away with and the film introduced new rules that effectively make you look at other Star Wars films differently. Johnson is a man who likes to challenge genre, to subvert it and the audiences, unlike safe hands Abrams, whose filmography shows more of an appreciation towards George Lucas and Steven Spielberg and the childlike wonder he clearly got from their movies. These two filmmakers are in a way represented by Rey and Kylo Ren: the Jedi who wants to continue and uphold a legacy versus a *Sith* who wants nothing to do with the past. 

TFA made over $2 billion worldwide, becoming the third biggest films ever at that point. TLJ made $1.3 billion. The $700 million decline shows that the novelty of a new Star Wars film had run its course and that audiences were not as enthused toward Johnson's bold, risk taking vision. Cries of 'my childhood is ruined' and 'Disney and Kathleen Kennedy are SJWs that don't know Star Wars' echoed around comment sections. Six months later Solo: A Star Wars Story came out. A lackluster film by all accounts, it neither bombed nor profited and the reactions to these films caused Disney and Lucasfilms to shelve all other projects. TROS was to be the last feature film for a while. 

Was there hope for this movie? Well, I do not think so.

The changing of directors and writers between TFA and TLJ showcased the flaws in this system. A trilogy should be connected and planned if it going to deal with the same conflict over three films. There needs to be at least one constant; one figure with the vision to oversee the project. George Lucas directed and wrote all three prequels, and regardless of their quality, there is undeniably a vision there and the story that wanted to be told was told. Of course, the original trilogy was not so well planned. 1977's A New Hope could be a standalone film and the Vader and Leia reveals were added late into shootings those films. And yes, the originals had three different directors, but George Lucas was always about and wrote the stories for the screenwriters. And that all worked a treat. 

But audiences now are used to intricate, interconnected stories because of the might of the Marvel films. Continuity is vital in franchises. So to take cinema's most beloved property and characters and craft a new set of films without a plan in the age of social media and 'everyone's a critic' is utter stupidity. You know you might have mucked up when the prequels, the most hated big budget blockbusters ever at one point, are now treated with a reverence because of how original they are; Revenge of the Sith is just pure imagination and for Star Wars fans, that can trump things like acting and dialogue. Imagination is pivotal, and the lack of Lucas for the Disney batch is painfully obvious: the planets, vehicles and sets just don't seem as rich and fun anymore. 

Which brings us into TROS. JJ Abrams was brought back to direct the final film, sandwiching Rian Johnson's 'stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb' middle chapter. One can imagine the meetings that occurred after TLJ's response: do they continue with what Johnson did or try their best to revert back to what Abrams originally set up? The answer is a mix of the two and that is where the problems lie (in fairness, TFA did not help matters when it came to setting up the future: Luke going into exile and not wanting to be found but also leaving a map in R2-D2 and with the old guy on Jakku that we know nothing about?). 

In the film's opening crawl we are instantly told that Emperor Palpatine is still alive (unexplained) and has a fleet of Star Destroyers that, with rather small guns, house planet destroying capabilities. No I do not need to know where they came from or who designed them, mainly because the first thirty minutes is so relentless in playing catch-up there isn't time to question anything. Abrams also made a point about how this film sees the new trio of Rey, Finn and Poe together for sustained amounts of time. Great! That would be fun if they actually had established the somewhat convoluted relationships between them all (so Finn we assume really likes Rey, but then there's Rose who likes Finn but she wasn't popular so has been sidelined, Poe and Rey have great chemistry but he likes this other girl from his past and Rey and Kylo have sizzling chemistry and then it looks like Finn and a new Resistance fighter are going to get it on and oh boy this is too much). 

Abrams is a director for audiences, able to make quickly paced crowd-pleasers. But his skill does not include metaphors or ambitious camera work; there is a sense that you are going to get a nice long tracking shot but they seem to cut too early and compared to Johnson's blistering cinematography in TLJ, Abrams' films just seem like any other blockbuster. There are two lightsabre fights between Kylo and Rey, one quite original concept that uses their Force connection, and one on the ruins of a Death Star. The latter felt like the big set-piece fight but there is no John Williams score or excitement to the choreography. I was shocked to find myself less than entertained by it all. And the big final space battle: mediocre. There is a grand Return of the King - Avengers Endgame arrival scene, but in comparison to Rogue One or even the last Lando-in the-Falcon space battle it does not feel as exciting. Then there is the barrage of 'TLJ corrections': Rey is important, Leia is somewhat Force trained, Snoke was just a minion of Palpatine, Luke did make a mistake in giving up and Y-wings are the best bombers. I wonder what Rian Johnson thinks. 

The film is not without some quality mind you so here are some of the films I did like: Chewbacca getting his medal, Luke being able to lift his X-wing out of the water whilst Yoda's theme plays, Sheev Palpatine saying "do it", the lightsabre switcheroo at the end, the final scene, the Luke and Leia training flashback, Rey's training and C-3PO who is that annoying friend you just can't live without, getting most of the laughs and some of the only memorable lines. 

But this is one rushed film, one that doesn't know the best course to run and relies on going along with things rather than questioning them. The best comparison I have for this film is 2017's Justice League. There was a changing of directors, a predecessor with a divided fanbase, and an attempt to fix a lot of the criticisms at the cost of a too-much-too-soon narrative that overwhelms and yet is hard to remember.
It is a travesty to see a series start with promise, with TFA showing that Star Wars was in the hands of people who love it and all it needed was a fresher story. And four years later the charm has fizzled out. You can blame Rian Johnson, or Abrams or Kennedy or Disney, you could even blame the people that hated on George Lucas so much he sold it in the first place. I personally would blame the generational divides that split the fanbase: the people who watched the originals as the kids then hated the prequels, the people who watched the prequels as kids and loved all original six, and the kids that watch these films and hopefully really like them. You cannot please all these groups, and I think the powers that be know this, but at least a coherent, continued story across all three would be a good way to start. 

Le Mans 66 (and the failings of the current studio system)

$100 million dollars. A director you may be more familiar with their work than their name. Two renowned lead actors. No connection to an existing brand or franchise. How on earth did Le Mans 66 get made in 2019?

It is no secret that Hollywood is struggling. Streaming and the monumental rise in television quality (as in the shows, not the object) has shaken the onscreen entertainment industry. Audiences are more selective, only turning up in droves for the films they know they will enjoy; the Marvel extravaganzas, the Star Wars behemoths and the Disney live action remakes: films with already established universes and characters. Studios pour their blockbuster budgets into these tent poles, and, minus a few bombs, it is a seemingly smart move. Films hitting the billion dollar mark was a big thing back in the early 2010s, now it means nothing (unless you're Joker). But whilst the market is swamped by these universe and character-centric films, it means a certain era of Hollywood is over: that of the movie star. 

Risks are few and far between these days among the studios. $100 million and upwards is generally only reserved for films with established audiences, promising at least some people to turn up to its release. The mid-budget film has all but vanished; what once dominated cinema in the 1980s and 1990s, with films like The Negotiator and Heat being made on modest $40-70 million budgets, allowing another effects and action but without being a massive financial risk. Those two films in particular also had star power: Kevin Spacey and Samuel L Jackson in the former and of course Al Pacino and Robert De Niro in the latter. These are actors who can put audiences in seats. Or, they once could. There is an argument to be made that star power has gone: Dwayne Johnson films aren't always hits (Skyscraper) and neither are those A listers that make up the bulk of the Marvel franchise ensemble. Do audiences watch Avengers films for Robert Downey Jr. or do they watch it for Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man? 

There is resistance, notably with people like Leonardo DiCaprio, who has had an immensely strong commercial decade (Inception, The Wolf of Wall Street, The Revenant and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood), and then with directors such as Christopher Nolan and Quentin Tarantino who have established themselves as brands despite their largely original and fresh stories they tell. This means companies like Warner Bros. can provide Nolan with $160 million to make a heist film about dreams within dreams: people will turn up because they expect (and get) consistently impressive slices of cinema. 

But back to Le Mans 66. If you ignore the recent efforts of Tarantino and Nolan on the basis that they are 'event' cinema, when was the last time a studio put a nine figure sum into a non-franchise film that had a powerful movie star in the lead? Off the top of my head it seems like 2015's The Revenant. Whilst its original budget was $65 million, it ballooned to $135 million and then went on to do over half a billion worldwide. That was directed by a talented filmmaker (though not a household name) and had a vaguely true story narrative acted out by two popular actors (DiCaprio and Tom Hardy). 

There is an argument for Ready Player One but that had the novelty of its mish-mash of 80s and 90s pop culture, but The Meg is another good example. Yes its adapted from a book, but it was sold as Jason Statham vs a giant megaladon, and it made half a billion worldwide. A worthy risk. But three films off the top of my head from the last five years or so is an awful ratio. Luckily Ad Astra and Le Mans 66 gave us two in a month. 

Le Mans 66 is without a doubt a star driven film. Without leading actors Christian Bale and Matt Damon you would only have petrol heads going to see this film. But with these two popular and (largely consistent) actors, you have a broader appeal for audiences. Throw in director James Mangold who has made some solid films (Logan, 3:10 to Yuma, Walk the Line) and the inspiring and thrilling true life story and you have vintage Hollywood. Perhaps to be even more specific, when was $100 million given to an original film that is not a CGI driven blockbuster? Mangold's direction and immersive sound design makes this feel authentic; like you can feel the heat of the engine and the smell of fuel. It hasn't been marketed as a must-see cinematic experience, but it certainly is. 

One of the supporting characters, Leo Beebe (Josh Lucas) is a stereotypical senior management man. His heart is not in the racing, it is in the money and image. Throughout he harbors a disdain for the risky and seemingly uncontrollable individual Ken Miles (Bale). Beebe feels like a current Hollywood executive: what they want is safety for their company and their business, even at the cost of others' individuality and freedoms. The film raises and answers the question about taking the skilled over the unskilled, even if they can be stubborn and hard to work with. Risks are worth taking and this film is a perfect demonstration of that: Le Mans 66 received a rare A+ CinemaScore, showing that audiences absolutely loved it. Hopefully its box office sees it turn a profit, as Ad Astra (on an estimated $80-100 million budget) has failed to do so, despite its brilliance. Le Mans 66's potential success could see a few more risks, a few more star driven stories that are best told with a hefty budget behind them. It is a crowd pleasing enough film I think to secure a Best Picture nomination, and that at least should signify its importance. Brilliantly acted, funny, inspiring and technically faultless. Le Mans 66 is old school filmmaking roaring back onto the big screen. 

My Top 20

I have tried to avoid doing rankings and lists; they do become tiresome and repetitive, even if it does feel good to put pen to paper to know where you stand on certain things. That being said, I have caught myself out far too much recently saying things like "that's definitely in the top twenty" or "I reckon that makes my top twenty films at least". I don't know why I say twenty, but in conversations it seems my top twenty goes into the forties and fifties. It is a seemingly endless list.
So I'm documenting this as proof of what those twenty films actually are. They are in a rough order as it is too tight to keep pondering which ones I prefer over others.

1. The Lord of the Rings 
Dir. Peter Jackson, 2001-2003.

2. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
Dir. Sergio Leone, 1966.

3. Mad Max: Fury Road
Dir. George Miller, 2015.

4. The Last Samurai
Dir. Edward Zwick, 2003.

5. The Dark Knight
Dir. Christopher Nolan, 2008.

6. Goldfinger
Dir. Guy Hamilton, 1964.

7. The Empire Strikes Back
Dir. Irvin Kershner, 1980.

8. The Outlaw Josey Wales
Dir. Clint Eastwood, 1976.

9. Heat 
Dir. Michael Mann, 1995.

10. Interstellar 
Dir. Christopher Nolan, 2014.

11. Blade Runner 2049
Dir. Dennis Villeneuve, 2017.

12. Finding Nemo
Dir. Andrew Stanton, 2003.

13. The Incredibles
Dir. Brad Bird, 2004.

14. La La Land
Dir. Damien Chazelle, 2017.

15. The Curse of the Black Pearl
Dir. Gore Verbinski, 2003.

16. Home Alone
Dir. Chris Columbus, 1990.

17. The Dark Knight Rises
Dir. Christopher Nolan, 2012.

18. Once Upon a Time in the West
Dir. Sergio Leone, 1968.

19. Big
Dir. Penny Marshall, 1988.

20. Back to the Future
Dir. Robert Zemeckis, 1985

The World of Film 2010-2019: A Decade Of...?

Film has changed this decade. In fact, film has changed as an industry and an art form more in the last ten years than any decade prior. If the 1930s saw the 'talkies' take over, if the 1940s saw colour photography begin to take over, if the 1960s experimented with size and scale, if the 1970s removed clear cut heroes and villains in favour of morally ambiguous stories, if the 1980s paved the way for blockbusters and special effects, if the 1990s saw the emergence of mainstream independent films and CGI, and if the 2000s continued to experiment with technology during the birth of franchise dominating blockbusters, then the 2010s is all about progression.

To think that in 2010 DVDs were still doing well, streaming or online renting was not a popular thing, Blockbuster was going strong and everyone was crazy for 3D movies. Cut to 2019: it is immensely hard to find laptops with DVD slots (or DVD players for that matter), Netflix and Amazon Prime are the leading platforms for online streaming, the Oscars no longer have a host and representation is oh so important at the moment.
Politically, Hollywood has swung into the left-wing; with a focus on balancing pay, having a proportional set of Academy members and for its huge promotion of films like Black Panther, Get Out and Wonder Woman / Captain Marvel. Regardless of opinions of it, the shift has been seismic.
And when it comes to the big blockbusters, anyone who has access to a keyboard and a social media platform can become a vocal critic, waging war on those that liked or didn't like a film. Small minorities have allowed opinions to become facts, and even smaller minorities have besmirched the authenticity of their fandoms (Star Wars?), associating their groups with the sort of playground bullying that should be left in school.
On a more positive side of the change, technology has continued to impress, though it has been misused or overused. Motion-capture has become immaculate thanks to films like Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, whilst de-ageing or recreating departed characters / actors is also a hot trend, such as in Captain Marvel and Rogue One respectively. Another trend gone wrong is the 'Avengers Effect'. After making $1.5 billion in 2012, Avengers Assemble announced to the other studios that shared movie universes can be immensely profitable. Warner Bros. tried playing catch up with the DC universe, which started promisingly and then derailed due to trying to set up far too much. There was also the failed Dark Universe franchise, that began with The Mummy and ended with The Mummy. The only promising one is Legendary's Monsters Universe, with two Godzilla films and a King Kong film under their belt and a wave of possibilities for future installments. The other hot trend that fizzled out was nostalgia porn: reminding audiences of what they loved as a kid and trying to replicate or honour that love. Jurassic World got there first, then The Force Awakens made $2 billion out of it and then the flood gates opened: everything suddenly needed its own film and small things needed explanations in the form of a TV show etc etc. Disney's all conquering success as allowed them to remake beloved animated classics into live action stories, which retain the strength of the stories but lose the charm. Franchise revival has been done correctly: Creed, Blade Runner 2049 and Mad Max: Fury Road all told new stories whilst honouring those that came before it expertly. These are the kind of sequels the world needs, yet we do not get.

Genre has a concept has had a brilliant decade. Previously, genre films (horror, action, superhero, fantasy) enjoy high box office receipts and can also garner critical praise, but they very rarely enjoy the same success come awards season as the more 'prestige' films: dramas, biopics, historicals... This has changed dramatically in the last few years. Jordan Peele's Get Out received a Best Picture nomination and secured an Original Screenplay win; Logan got a screenplay nomination, romantic fantasy The Shape of Water took home a Best Picture and Director Oscar, and Mad Max: Fury Road hoovered up six awards whilst being nominated for Director and Picture gongs. The changing of Academy voters has allowed younger generations in who have rightfully platformed these genre films not just as 'one of the best [action] films' but also as 'one of the best films, period.' It took a long time, but these larger than life films are finally getting the attention they deserve, a trend that will only improve as we enter the 2020s.

I have made a list of my favourite films of the decade; having chosen 25 as a reasonable number to showcase. Whilst a Top 10 would be symmetrical, it would encourage choosing one film per year, which would mean a bunch of better films would go without mention, especially when 2014 and 2017 yielded far greater films than 2011 and 2013 for instance. And whilst 25 might promote selecting a couple of the best from each year, it still didn't feel like all my favourites were being represented. Another issue is that I have seen but a fraction of the hundreds and hundreds of films that came out since 2010 (I was 10 then to be fair) so my list is barely reflective of all areas of cinema, hence why I am saying my favourite films, and not an objective 'great' list of the best films.
So here is my incredibly opinionated list:

25. Annihilation  (2018)
24. Isle of Dogs  (2018)
23. The Hateful Eight  (2016)
22. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story  (2016)
21. Bone Tomahawk  (2015)
20. First Man  (2018)
19. Arrival  (2016)
18. John Wick: Parabellum  (2019)
17. Coco  (2018)
16. Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood  (2019)
15. Inside Out  (2015)
14. Dunkirk  (2017)
13. Whiplash  (2014)
12. The Nice Guys (2016)
11. Toy Story 3  (2010)
10. Hunt for the Wilderpeople  (2016)
9. Joker  (2019)
8. Mission: Impossible - Fallout  (2018)
7. War for the Planet of the Apes  (2017)
6. The Revenant  (2016)
5. Inception  (2010)
4. La La Land  (2017)
3. Interstellar  (2014)
2. Blade Runner 2049  (2017)
1. Mad Max: Fury Road  (2015)

What can we learn from this list? Well I am obviously very fond of strongly executed, mid to high budget productions that fuse the artistic with the entertainment. I was surprised that threepicks were westerns, with another film heavily featuring westerns (OUATI...H) and another that burrows heavily from the genre (WFTPOTA). It also might be surprising that a superhero film does not make the cut; Logan and The Dark Knight Rises came close. Of all the big blockbusters on that list
(a budget exceeding $100 million), the majority are originals, with only six coming from existing properties. Other takeaways are that I love Chris Nolan (3 films), Leo DiCaprio (3 films), Tom Hardy (4 films), Ryan Gosling (4 films) and Hans Zimmer (4 films). Science fiction accommodates seven choices and there are four animated choices. It is not the most diverse list. But then again, neither is the film industry.

JOKER (and film derivation)

Few films have stirred up the media and tapped into the zeitgeist as extremely as Todd Phillip's 2019 comic book film Joker. The box office performance, which has so far shown impressive legs with its very small percentage drops, is evidence that people are seeing this film just to be part of the conversation surrounding the violence and messages the film presents. One nagging question I have had is whether Joker is the result of a progression on from other superhero films, or whether it is a direct reaction to the current climate of interchangeable, big budget spectacles.
There have been a couple of notable blockbusters in recent years that have taken much inspiration from older classic films: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, with its casting of Robert Redford and a tense elevator scene, pays homage and takes inspiration from 1970s political thrillers like Three Days of the Condor (1975); 2017's Logan burrows heavily from 1953's Shane (a scene from the film is shown, and later quoted) and 1992's elegiac masterpiece Unforgiven; 2017's War for the Planet of the Apes takes heavy inspiration from a batch of classics: its story has elements of Apocalypse Now (1979), The Great Escape (1963, and both of which are punned in some on-screen graffiti), The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). These films in particular wore these inspirations on their sleeves whilst also telling a story that was its own thing.
Joker follows suit, riffing on two Martin Scorsese pictures (he was originally on-board as a producer): Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy. Robert De Niro stars in both, as an unhinged man driven to potentially political violence in one, and as a mentally unsound wannabe comedian who idolises an American talk show host in the second. Joker is the birth child of these two films, with Joaquin Phoenix's Arthur Fleck (aka the Joker) being the unhinged 'stand-up comic' whose dark path inevitably leads to violence, and De Niro is actually cast as the talk show host, paying homage to his The King of Comedy performance.
Phoenix makes for a magnetic Joker. Uncomfortable is the correct feeling in viewing many of his scenes, his sporadic laughter and chesty nicotine induced cough afterwards make for an interesting take on the iconic villain, whilst his eyes and smiles are terrifying. One scene early on sees the camera slowly zoom in on his face, the complexion changing bit by bit into an unsettling smile. It is more terrifying than anything Pennywise got up to recently. Yes, he is worthy of an Oscar nomination, and hopefully the selected scene that goes with the nomination is his first stand up performance, trying to desperately to suppress his laughter and tell the first joke. It is a riveting piece of acting.There are numerous other zoom ins which do an excellent job of isolating Fleck from everything else.
In fact, by and large the cinematography is fantastic. The use of lighting is wonderful, particularly on a subway train where the flickering lights allow antagonists to move seen and unseen, and also in the film's third act which inevitably sees the titular character on the talk show he once fantasised about being on.
There grim reality of the film, with its mucky exteriors juxtaposed to the extravaganza of the elites watching Modern Times in a deluxe cinema, makes everything hit so much harder. Previous incarnations of the Joker have seen the clown wipe out dozens, sometimes hundreds of people in one go. Violence in this film is sparing, but when it comes it is horrifying. There is something far more threatening with killing one person in a room with a pistol than with killing a hundred with gas. Because the violence Joker presents is unflinchingly real, never straying into the colourful possibilities of comic book action and staying firmly in modern America. It is violence that could happen and has happened.
It has been refreshing to see Al Pacino have a small role in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and it is refreshing to see Robert De Niro also have fun in a solid if small role in Joker (before both actors make their proper returns next month in The Irishman). The supporting cast is pretty solid throughout, and the musical score is utterly murky, brooding with sinister energy. It is most effective.

Then there is the film's message. Joker is a troubling film; at times it feels like a call to arms against the wealthy politically elite. The newspaper headlines and riots feel all too real that the downtrodden and poor could very easily rise up. Whilst not setting out to be, this is the Taxi Driver of this generation, a film with the ability to brainwash those vulnerable to the film's ideas. I did feel concerned watching some scenes, but overall my take is that rather then calling for political and social justice by force, it is invoking a theory I believe that is called 'noblesse oblige' - it means that the wealthy and powerful in society have a duty to look after and help the poor and disenfranchised. The events of this film show two things: society does not cater or understand mental illness as well as it should, and because of this rejection it stirs up the darker side of the downtrodden, ensuring the hate the system that should be aiding them.
It does derive an awful lot from The King of Comedy, especially with the black girlfriend that may or may not be real, the living at home with his mum set up and the idolisation of a celebrity. Luckily it isn't a scene for scene retelling, and it has enough of its own energy and stance to be its own force to be reckoned with. And hey, if this movie encourages people to watch those two Scorsese films, then that's great.
An unsettling, powerfully made and visceral piece of cinema that promises a new wave of character study superhero films.

Movie Trilogies (a breakdown of the best, and how they operate)

A trilogy is a set of three films. Easy. But in choosing some of the strongest cinema has to offer, it is clear that they can operate on different levels. I wrote down all the movie trilogies I could think of and then whittled it down to ten.
The general criteria is finding a film franchise that consists of three features that follow on from the other. This threw up a few notes: some consider the Indiana Jones films (1981-1989) its own trilogy, with Kingdom of the Crystal Skull sufficiently set apart narratively and stylistically as to not be included. It is a worthy argument, and I would have been tempted to include those three adventure films, except for that little bit of trivia that the second installment, Temple of Doom, is actually a prequel and set before the first film. This therefore excludes the saga from being listed.
This next point might be even harder to swallow. The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit films have also been excluded. This is due to both productions being written and filmed at the same time; they operate better as one large film then as three 'separate but connected' stories. With these movies, the ending is in clear sight as soon as the first film starts production, making them unusual entries in a trilogy list. With the other titles I have selected, the end goal is never set up in the first film, and it will become apparent that most of the first installments in each trilogy also operate perfectly as stand-alones. If I did include the Middle-earth films, then LOTR would be my top pick, and, seeing as I am actually very fond of The Hobbit, that would also be high up.
Finally, the ten films are split into eight and two, owing to a different style of trilogy. the eight represent narrative continuations whilst the two are more stylistically connected. This is also not a ranking of 'Top 10 Movie Trilogies of All Time', rather than a list of note worthy franchises that are great examples of telling stories inside one larger story.

The Back to the Future Trilogy (1985, 1989, 1990)
The Back to the Future films are broken down into parts, with parts 2-3 being notable for being back-to-back productions made a couple years after the first dazzling one. Back to the Future (1985) is a true 80s classic, embodying the energy and wit of the decade and being as close to perfect a blockbuster as possible. Michael J Fox and Christopher Lloyd are Marty McFly and Doc Emmet Brown respectively, whizzing around in the iconic DeLorean time machine. What makes the trilogy great is its interwoven stories that means events from the first film become the background and a threat in the second film for instance. It is the kind of smooth and smart storytelling you could not have in a stand alone. If the first film takes us back to 1955, then the second one takes us the future in 2015, before taking us to an alternate 1985, leaving the third film to go back to a different era entirely: 1885, and the Old West. This allows each film its own freshness and unique style, before bringing everything together in a neat bow. 

The Before... Trilogy (1995, 2004, 2013)
By far the lowest budgeted pick on the list, Richard Linklater's indie trilogy consists of Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight, with the films very casually telling the story of Ethan Hawke's American Jesse Wallace and Julie Delpy's French Celine, who meet for an evening and fall in love, agreeing to meet six months later. The film's take place nine years after the last, as do the release dates. Very thin on plot, each film is essentially a collection of tracking shots of the two characters discussing the world, philosophy, politics, family and everything in between. Before Sunrise could have been a stand alone, leaving the viewer to decide what happens next, and Before Sunset equally could have left things there with a little more ambiguity. Before Midnight is a little more indulgent, showing us what we want to see and raising difficult questions. It is not necessarily a satisfying closure, but the evolution of the story (first night in Vienna, second time in the day in Paris, third time on holiday in Greece) and the 'fill in the gaps' conversations the characters have to catch up on what the other has been doing allows a very wholesome relationship to blossom on screen.

The Dark Knight Trilogy (2005, 2008, 2012)
The films that introduced director Christopher Nolan as Hollywood's premier style and substance and scale director, this trilogy is notable for its gritty, realistic feel for a superhero film, done so in such a way as to pretty much transcend the superhero genre. Christian Bale is Bruce Wayne / Batman and Michael Caine is Alfred, with a Hans Zimmer score, fantastic practical effects and narratives with real weight all amalgamating into some of the most beloved films of the 21st century. There is a crowd who felt dissatisfied with the finale, The Dark Knight Rises, but I am someone who doesn't look at that film in comparison to the almighty The Dark Knight, instead viewing it as a continuation of the story. Nolan and co. were originally going to leave it at The Dark Knight, but soon they worked out a satisfying way to the end the story. And thank god they did, because it would be bleak to end the series on Batman having to flee into social exile. Each film works because they bring a different theme of idea to the overall story: Batman Begins is a psychological thriller that gives Batman a mental test to overcome, with a focus on fear; The Dark Knight is an action crime film in the vein of Heat, with Batman being given a moral test as the Joker introduces chaos and choice to Gotham; and with The Dark Knight Rises Nolan opts for full blown historical epic and gives Batman a physical challenge in a story that focuses on revolution and legacy. With Rises we get a truly great send off as Batman is transformed from a man into an idea, a symbol for others to aspire towards. The variety in genre and theme across the films provides a very watchable and dense trilogy.

How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy (2010, 2014, 2019)
As a lover of the book series growing up, I can firmly say that these films are perfect examples of film having one over the books. These three films chronicle the story of Hiccup, a scrawny son of a Viking chief who, rather than hunt them, befriends a dragon called Toothless. In one of cinema's most beautiful friendships, the films follow the evolution of the Viking community with dragons, led by Hiccup and Toothless. The animation gets consistently stronger, and the musical score (particularly for the first film) was sorely snubbed of Oscar nominations. What makes the trilogy work is similar to the Before trilogy with the time jumps between each film. Hiccup goes from a pubescent teen to a man, allowing visual cues for the change between each film and how their home of Berk grows. The first film deals with having to exist and fight dragons, the second deals with living alongside them and the third concerns losing dragons and having to separate them. There are thrilling aerial sequences and some profoundly moving moments, with a warming epilogue for the ages. The Hiccup and Toothless relationship is the focus, but the growth between Hiccup and Astrid is also great long term planning. A fantastically told set of stories.

Kung fu Panda Trilogy (2008, 2011, 2016)
Another DreamWorks trilogy, Kung fu Panda concerns Po the Panda (Jack Black), a fat panda who grows to become a legendary master of kung fu. With an all star cast across all three films, this unlikely trilogy is the ultimate story about not judging and self-belief. The first film works great on its own; Po finishes the film as the Dragon Warrior and everything is full circle, with a few strands that could open doorways to a sequel (his parents / backstory for instance). That we get, with the surprisingly dark Kung fu Panda 2. This sequel deliberately sets up the third film in its ending, or rather sets up one aspect of it (Po's father). Much like The Dark Knight trilogy, each of these animated films offers a different villain based on what Po needs to overcome and grow from: in the fierce Tai Lun we get Po's physical challenge; a child raised with expectations vs a child raised with love, in Shen the peacock we get Po's emotional challenge as he grapples with his troubled past on the way to finding inner peace, and in Kai we get Po's spiritual challenge on his way to mastering chi. All three villains are effective at their role (and Tai Lun is easily the greatest antagonist in an animated film) and the individual themes in each film means by the end, Po is an all round master. Throw in exceptional fight choreography, Master Oogway quotes and awesome music and you have one of the most overlooked series of this generation.

Original Star Wars Trilogy (1977, 1980, 1983)
Inevitably being picked, this groundbreaking, universally worshiped set of movies may not be the perfect trilogy to analyse (there is a drop in quality with Return of the Jedi), but it does so much right. Star Wars would have worked alone: the bad guys introduced are all defeated, Luke is successful with using the Force and they all become heroes. There is set up such as wishing to see Luke become a true Jedi and the Leia romance, but by and large its a satisfying stand alone. Then Empire Strikes Back comes along, inspiring darker sequels forever. The world building is stretched, more characters are introduced and Luke's journey progresses. With its iconic cliffhanger ending, a third film was already on its way. Not of all the franchise was planned from the get to go; Leia as Luke's sister was introduced later on as a way of resolving the love triangle with no hard feelings. There isn't a thematic change between each film like Kung fu Panda or The Dark Knight, but the overall good vs evil or not giving up on those that are lost theme is constant throughout.

Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy (2003, 2006, 2007)
Hear me out on this one. I did state that the criteria had to be a film series with three entries, and whilst Star Wars has ten films, it is comprised of three trilogies. Pirates of the Caribbean is annoyingly made up of five films, but it should have stopped at three. The first three are too interconnected to not be considered a trilogy and it was filmed the same way as Back to the Future: one break out hit followed a few years later by a big back-to-back production to wrap it up in epic style. I love these films; the first is the go-to adventure film, the second one is so crazy and inventive it works, and the third brings the satisfying closure despite its congested narrative. This is trilogy for a bunch of reasons: Will and Elizabeth meet in the first film, meant to get married in the second and then have the bittersweet conclusion in the third; Jack Sparrow in introduced alone on a small boat, and last we see of him is alone in a small boat with the Black Pearl in Barbossa's hands; we also have the end of the British redcoat trading companies; the closure to Norrington's arc; the restoration of Bill Turner... there are no strings left by the third film. Pirates of the Caribbean is more escapism and entertainment than an impactful series with a message, which means the trilogy is more defined by the narrative then a goal or idea. Regardless, they are clever and inventive films, with some fabulous visual effects and music (you may have noticed Hans Zimmer has been involved with three of these trilogies).

Planet of the Apes Trilogy (2011, 2014, 2017)
As The Dark Knight trilogy was set to conclude, a new, gritty film franchise was beginning, one that would be so convincingly realistic through its tone and effects that its science-fiction narrative would be treated like a genuine story, in the same way Batman was. In Andy Serkis' ape leader Caesar is one of the greatest film characters of the decade, a biblical figure stunningly acted and rendered. The first film, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, works on its own (common theme here eh) by closing on the liberated monkeys as a disease begins to spread. That could have been it, setting up how one ape led a revolution that took out human life. But along came Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, a very dark and poignant epic that upped the action and emotional stakes amidst a post-apocalyptic landscape. With an ending promising war, we got War for the Planet of the Apes, which took a smart approach of depicting a more psychological and inner war for Caesar than perhaps the all out conflict people expected. That isn't to say there is no action; the film is book-ended by two breathtaking battles, but this is more a war film in the vein of Apocalypse Now, The Bridge on the River Kwai and The Great Escape. The trilogy charts Caesar's journey from revolutionary to leader to a biblical hero who saved his people. Its a fusion of Moses and Jesus, and the film does't skimp on some of the images. Its a fascinating evolution, and the third film is an emotional sendoff that wraps the stories together, ending in hope.

As mentioned before, the final two are in their own little group for being a different take on a trilogy. The previous eight have all been connected through character and narrative; they are internally linked trilogies. I like to refer to these two trilogies as external ones; linked by things outside of the worlds they are set in. These are films connected by director, genre or style, and cannot be compared critically to the internal trilogies I have just listed.

The Man With No Name / Dollars Trilogy (1964, 1965, 1966)
These films introduced three vital parts of cinema: Clint Eastwood, director Sergio Leone, and the Spaghetti-western genre. With A Fistful of Dollars, the sub genre was invented; a bleak landscape where men, separated on the frontier from law, religion and women, are reduced to morally bankrupt rogues, bandits and bounty hunters. Here Eastwood's character pits two sides of a town against the other before ridding the area of bad guy Ramone and his gang. In For a Few Dollars More, the Man With No Name teams up with Lee Van Cleef's Colonel Mortimer to hunt a gang and claim the hefty bounty. In the almighty The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Eastwood is the 'Good', Van Cleef is the 'Bad' and Eli Wallach joins in as Tuco 'the Ugly'. The first film has one main character, the second film two main characters and the third has three, so there is a nice evolution, as well as the progressively longer film length. The films act as demonstrations of style, the extreme close ups juxtaposed to massive wide shots, with rapid fire editing, stillness, casual violence, black comedy and outstanding music all forming the Spaghetti-western genre. The Man With No Name seems to be the connective tissue between the films, thanks to that green poncho, but nothing is carried over to other films. And if anything, he should be the Man With Many Names, as Eastwood goes by Joe, Manko and Blondie across the three films. The duel roles for Van Cleef and Gian Maria Volonte (antagonist in 1-2) also suggest these films do not necessarily inhabit the same world. But stylistically it is a trilogy, you can buy them in a Blu-ray set and Eastwood is the face of it, even if he is barely a character and the stories are in no ways follow ons.
Leone also directed a second 'trilogy', the Once Upon a Time... trilogy, which contains Once Upon a Time in the West, Duck, You Sucker / A Fistful of Dynamite / Once Upon a Time... in the Revolution and Once Upon a Time in America. The relationship between these films is even more minute than the Dollars movies; two are westerns and one is a multi-generational crime film. All that brings together is the director, Ennio Morricone's music and their titles if you are European.

The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy (2004, 2007, 2013)
Edgar Wright's cult classic set of films, the Cornetto trilogy is similarly disconnected. Here is how they are linked: same director, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost as the two leads, a Cornetto ice cream cameo and being a comedy hybrid with another genre. Shaun of the Dead is a zombie rom-com, Hot Fuzz is a buddy cop action comedy and The World's End is a science-fiction alien invasion comedy. This playfulness with genre is the main focus of the trilogy's style and when viewed as three thirds, it is a fantastic deconstruction of genre and tropes inside those genres. All three movies are brilliant, endlessly quotable with some quality moments. Shaun of the Dead goes from hilarious to tense, Hot Fuzz goes from hilarious to gory to badass, The World's End goes from hilarious to political to quietly moving in its third act. It is a fantastic set of three original movies that riff on well known stories, and it makes for an unusually intriguing trilogy.