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Year in Tiers 2021 - Dan Flash's

The Top Tier in this Year's recap is dedicated to the best of the best, unimpeachable standard of quality set by fashion icon - Dan Flash. These are the industry gold medalists that all of entertainment should aspire to and can be priced at easily over $1000 because of how complex their tapestry of filmmaking artistry has been woven. First up is a sequel to the third remake of a 40 year old slasher movie...

#9. Halloween Kills

While David Gordon Green's 2018 re-quel garnered a lot of praise for bringing franchise favorites like Jamie Lee Curtis, Nick Castle and John Carpenter back into the fold - it didn't really do much to further the story of Michael Myers as a whole. But while a lot of the surface level aspects of Halloween Kills may be flawed (some of the acting, dialogue, or nearly everything involving Big John and Little John) the message of this film resonates far beyond any other Halloween since the original. The story is so much larger than just Laurie or Michael, it's about the lasting trauma and inner evil that can not be attached to or extinguished by any one person. It's simultaneously the most brutally violent entry in the series and most philosophically challenging. And even though this all seems to be leading to yet another inevitable Laurie v.s. Michael showdown in the next installment (2022's Halloween Ends), this potentially leads the series into an exciting and bold new direction. For now...



#8. Riders of Justice

Mads Mikkelsen really makes some phenomenal choices. This incredible Danish film about processing grief and revenge takes a number of unexpected turns in exploring the psyche of a family mourning a tragedy. It's a psychological deconstruction of vigilante justice, wrapped in dark comedy and family drama that delivers a much more realistic and sobering conclusion than you typically get in this kind of venture. It's a subversion of the entire revenge-porn subgenre. Toss in the incredible performances from Mads Mikkelsen, Nikolaj Lie Kaas and Andrea Heick Gadeberg and you've got one of 2021's can't miss film experiences.


#7. The Harder They Fall

With a loaded ensemble cast of generational talents, somehow you still walk away from from The Harder They Fall more impressed with the man sitting behind the camera than anyone in front of it. Don't get me wrong; Jonathan Majors, Zazie Beetz, Regina King and Lakeith Stanfield are spectacular (as always) but the true breakout star here is director Jeymes Samuel and his ability to deliver a bold new take on the western genre that oozes with so much style and confidence that it's only modern rivals might be Django Unchained or No Country For Old Men. Which, for a director, puts him in some remarkable company. Incredibly fun and impeccably well written, this is the emergence of a filmmaker to watch going forward for sure and the perfect scratch to remedy that lingering Red Dead Redemption 2 itch.


#6. Spencer

How blessed are we that 2021 brought us not 1 but 2 incredible new scores from Jonny Greenwood? This one in particular featuring all the spastic dissonance of a Godspeed! You Black Emperor album. The music is so present, it almost plays like a central character in the film. Rivaled, of course, only by the revelation that is Kristen Stewart as Princess Diana. There's an unrelenting tension buzzing beneath the surface of the entire film and despite it's semi-pompous mockery of tradition, the exploration of Diana as a prisoner in her own life makes for a moody showcase of exquisite character study. With this and Jackie, director Pablo Larrain is carving out quit the niche for himself in depicting historically misrepresented women.


#5. C'mon C'mon

There were a lot of black and white films this year, huh? C'mon C'mon is a fascinating dissection of adult-child relationships and how young people view their futures. It's perhaps one of the most comprehensive movies about raising and understanding children that I've ever seen and yet the central theme of the story basically states that you shouldn't get too wrapped up in hyper-analyzation. Just be thoughtful, honest and present. Keep up. Don't use the over examination of your child as a distraction from feeling your own life. Joaquin Phoenix and Woody Norman's relationship feels remarkably genuine and therefore the entire film does. It's not overly syrupy on the feel good, but still captures an optimistic portrayal of how rewarding and raising a child can be.


Check out our list of The Top 10 Movie Dads of All Time


#4. Passing

Actress Rebecca Hall's directorial debut carries with it the classical elegance of a black and white cinematic staple you might catch being rerun on TCM back in the day. It's a remarkable debut for the first time director as she tells an incredibly insightful tale about race and identity that feels very timely, despite being based upon a book written in 1929. The universal themes of self-acceptance and insecurity still ring true today and the central performances from Tessa Thompson, Ruth Negga and Andre Holland are absolutely phenomenal. Thompson herself is becoming something of a can't miss talent that demands attention to every project she's involved with. But the entire picture feels like a lost early Hollywood masterpiece, properly restored for Netflix at just the right time.


#3. Licorice Pizza

Paul Thomas Anderson is one of my favorite directors of all time. And with this light-hearted coming of age story set amongst the backdrop of the 1970's California Valley, Anderson seems to be accepting himself and reverting to his roots - much like Alana Haim's character in the film. After being pursued by a series of profane, rich, man-children looking to exploit her for fame (Sean Penn), sex (Bradley Cooper), and prestige (Benny Safdie) - Alana finally accepts herself and the person that's been by her side through it all. She's done chasing empty admiration, learned that waterbeds don't offer any real support and even the clout of running for mayor won't allow you to ever be your true self. What matters is the people that stand with you through it all. Anderson is still a master of his craft and this offbeat, genuinely touching love story feels like a return to form for one of this generation's best.


#2. Don't Look Up

In what seems to be the most polarizing film of the year, Adam McKay's disasterpiece theater may not be as slapstick or laugh out loud funny as Dr. Strangelove, but it certainly captures the tone of a doomsday political satire like no other film has in the wake of Stanley Kubrick's dark comic triumph. Okay, maybe Mars Attacks. Or Idiocracy. But still, the film carries an admittedly odd tone, which I for one enjoyed in that it wasn't nearly as condescending as McKay's previous efforts - Vice or The Big Short. Instead it revels in our shared despair at the hands of selfish and inept institutional leadership that finds us all helplessly watching our imminent demise be weaponized for political and financial gain. The film really never points blame at specific political parties or actions, but rather castigates the entire culture of our overly politicized times; where we can't even agree on an impending apocalypse. Even our would-be heroes end up following their own primal instincts of running towards pleasure and away from pain. To live life without the stress of living and escaping through sex, drugs, and mind numbing technology. It's a stunning and bold picture that captures what life in America has been like for the past 3 years brilliantly. And unlike McKay's previous award contenders, Don't Look Up doesn't bother even pretending to have the answers. Instead, Don't Look Up is a collective spiritual cry for reason in a world without any. A plea for perseverance from a species seemingly hellbent on self destruction.


#1. The Humans

There are plenty of classic holiday films out there but maybe none that capture the modern experience of a family gathering from an adult perspective like The Humans does. It's exquisitely well written, with poignant and realistic dialogue that paints a vivid portrait of what it is to be alive in our anxiety riddled times. The family at the focus of the Humans are an unvarnished ensemble that are equally playful and cruel to one another, brought to life by a remarkable cast lead by Richard Jenkins as the father figure. But the real breakout here for me is Amy Schumer, who does an extraordinary job embodying the dark humor and inherent despair this film conveys so brilliantly. And although the humans themselves can be easily cast as the root of their own anguish in this story, first time director Stephen Karam does a marvelous job of imbuing the setting as perhaps the most haunting character of the film. The deteriorating, dingy apartment exudes a stoic sadness with it that looms over the entire proceedings. It's an ingenious symbolization of the rotting impermanence of everyday life that we find ourselves incased in while conveying a desire for vulnerability and understanding with one another, only to turn and mock it. But even more than that, it's a representation of the decomposing structure of late capitalism rot that has Aimee being pushed out of her job due to a medical condition, Brigid undercutting her father with jealous passive aggressive remarks about how little her parents can support her financially while pursuing her artistic endeavors and has Richard Jenkins asking "Don't you think it should cost less to be alive?" punctuated with a desperate laugh. It's a truly phenomenal film from Stephen Karam, adapting his own Tony Award winning play into a sobering encapsulation of inherent human hopelessness and existential dread. In other words, the perfect holiday film for 2021 and hands down, the best film of the year.



View the Rest of the 2021 Year in Tiers Here:



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