In a week where the Golden Globes proved once again how much of a navel gazing joke and an obvious excuse for televised drunkenness it is, one has to look at this morning’s freshly announced Academy Award nominations and hope Academy voters will renew a little faith in the practice of picking out the best and brightest of the year in cinema.

The Revenant and Mad Max: Fury Road—both a bit more action-oriented than we’re used to seeing in Oscar forerunners—were the favorites with 12 and 10 nominations given to the two films respectively. And if suffering for your art earns you an Oscar these days, Leonardo DiCaprio might just finally take home a little gold dude. Fifth time’s the charm, Leo!

This year we have eight films vying for Best Picture and not a single person of color nominated in a lead or supporting role, which likely has more to do with the lack of diverse films being greenlit and less to do with biased voters, but still an unfortunate truth. Those who so dutifully championed Tangerine this past year are likely feeling the sting of rejection.

Despite nabbing Lead and Supporting nominations, Carol was shut out of the Best Picture and Best Director categories. Ridley Scott was also noticeably absent from the Best Director list for The Martian (which, in case there’s been confusion, is NOT a comedy). Quentin Tarantino might also be feeling a bit overlooked this morning, with only three nominations for The Hateful Eight, but, at least, one is for cinematography, supporting Tarantino’s decision to shoot on 70mm. Star Wars: The Force Awakens asserts itself plenty in technical categories, another unsurprising feat for this box office behemoth.

All in all, it’s not an especially unpredictable list of nominations, but the real fun comes in guessing the winners. The 88th Academy Awards will be held on Feb. 28th and will air at 7 p.m. ET/ 4 p.m. PST on ABC. Check back for our continued 2016 Academy Awards coverage and read on for the full list of nominees.

List of 2016 Oscar Nominations

Best Picture
The Big Short
Bridge of Spies
Brooklyn
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Martian
The Revenant
Room
Spotlight

Best Actress in a Leading Role
Cate Blanchett, Carol
Brie Larson, Room
Jennifer Lawrence, Joy
Charlotte Rampling, 45 Years
Saoirse Ronan, Brooklyn

Best Actor in a Leading Role
Bryan Cranston, Trumbo
Matt Damon, The Martian
Leonardo DiCaprio, The Revenant
Michael Fassbender, Steve Jobs
Eddie Redmayne, The Danish Girl

Actress in a Supporting Role
Jennifer Jason Leigh, The Hateful Eight
Rooney Mara, Carol
Rachel McAdams, Spotlight
Alicia Vikander, The Danish Girl
Kate Winslet, Steve Jobs

Actor in a Supporting Role
Christian Bale, The Big Short
Tom Hardy, The Revenant
Mark Ruffalo, Spotlight
Mark Rylance, Bridge of Spies
Sylvester Stallone, Creed

Best Director
Adam McKay, The Big Short
George Miller, Mad Max: Fury Road
Alejandro G. Inarritu, The Revenant
Lenny Abrahamson, Room
Tom McCarthy, Spotlight

Visual Effects
Ex Machina
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Martian
The Revenant
Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Best Foreign Language Film
Embrace of the Serpent, Colombia
Mustang, France
Son of Saul, Hungary
Theeb, Jordan
A War,Denmark

Best Animated Feature
Anomalisa
Boy and the World
Inside Out
Shaun The Sheep
When Marnie Was There

Best Screenplay
Bridge of Spies
Ex Machina
Inside Out
Spotlight
Straight Outta Compton

Best Adapted Screenplay
The Big Short
Brooklyn
Carol
The Martian
Room

Best Documentary
Amy
Cartel Land
The Look of Silence
What Happened, Miss Simone?
Winter on Fire: Ukraine’s Fight for Freedom

Editing
The Big Short
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Revenant
Spotlight
Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Production Design
Bridge of Spies
The Danish Girl
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Martian
The Revenant

Best Original Score
Bridge of Spies
Carol
The Hateful Eight
Sicario
Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Best Original Song
“Earned It” from Fifty Shades of Grey
“Manta Ray” from Racing Extinction
“Simple Song No. 3” from Youth
“Til It Happens To You” from The Hunting Ground
“Writing’s on the Wall” from Spectre

Achievement in Makeup and Hairstyling
Mad Max Fury Road
The 100-Year Old Men Who Climbed Out The Window and Disappeared
The Revenant

Best Cinematography
Carol
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Hateful Eight
The Revenant
Sicario

Achievement in Sound Mixing
Bridge of Spies
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Martian
The Revenant
Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Achievement in Sound Editing
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Martian
The Revenant
Sicario
Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Best Costume Design
Carol
Cinderella
The Danish Girl
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Revenant

Best Live Action Short Film
Ave Maria
Day One
Everything Will Be Okay (Alles Wird Gut)
Shok
Stutterer

Best Documentary Short Subject
Body Team 12
Chau, Beyond the Lines
Claude Lanzmann: Spectres of the Shoah
A Girl in the River: The Price of Forgiveness
Last Day of Freedom

Best Animated Short Film
Bear Story
Prologue
Sanjay’s Super Team
We Can’t Live Without Cosmos
World of Tomorrow

One of the more awkward topics in the early points of a romantic relationship involves the discussion of past loves. The reality is most people are not their current love’s first love, and yet some struggle to admit there was someone before them. This topic can be most sensitive in the early months of a relationship, especially if there is a concern that feelings for an ex might still exist. Fear about this isn’t exclusive to new relationships, however. In Andrew Haigh’s sublime 45 Years, a couple who has been together for nearly half a century finds their relationship suddenly tested by a voice from the past.

That couple is the Mercers: Kate (Charlotte Rampling), a retired teacher, and Geoff (Tom Courtenay), a retired plant worker. They live a quiet life in the British countryside where they go about their business the ways most retired couples do: walking the dog, puttering about the house, running errands in town, etc. Those halcyon days of their golden years take a sharp turn just a week before their 45th wedding anniversary, when Geoff receives a letter that the body of a long-deceased former love has been found. “My Katya,” as Geoff refers to her when he breaks the news to his wife, was the love he knew before Kate. The discovery of Katya, whose body was frozen solid and lost for half a century in the mountains of Switzerland, changes Geoff. That change, along with the subsequent discovery of other information, changes Kate.

There’s a high degree of difficulty in properly presenting 45 Years without it devolving into some mawkish soap about old age and young love and regret and whatnot. Fortunately, it’s a challenge Andrew Haigh (who adapted the screenplay from David Constantine‘s short story In Another Country) more than rises to. The filmmaker has a keen awareness that a 45-year marriage is simultaneously strong and vulnerable, and he has a clear understanding that the frailty of the human ego is something that doesn’t fade with age.

The strength of the Mercers’ relationship is the most obvious aspect of the film. A couple doesn’t get to its 45th wedding anniversary on cruise control. Marriages take work to get that far, and the Mercers have put in that work, but their success is measured by more than just a number. It’s also measured by their contentment and ease with each other. It’s a subtle but important thing. This is an elderly couple not portrayed as bitter or cantankerous or even slyly dismissive of each other; they love each other and have for a long time. The fact that they are planning a 45th-anniversary party is a great example of that. They had planned a party for their 40th—a more logical milestone—but illness got in the way. They didn’t reschedule it for as soon as possible, nor did they clamor to try again at 41. They shrugged their shoulders, knew in their hearts they’d be together no matter what the year, and rounded to the next 5-year marker to throw a replacement party.

The part that’s less obvious, the part that’s more important, is the vulnerability of a relationship that has lasted so long. It isn’t a vulnerability that comes with boredom or complacency because these aren’t people looking for something new. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. These are people who are comfortable with, perhaps subconsciously cling to, the familiarities and rituals they have built up over 45 years. The film is rich with little suggestions of this. So when something like the unexpected reemergence of the corpse of a past love enters this familiar space, it might not crumble the house, but it chips the paint, and chipped paint is the kind of thing that gnaws at someone because they know it’s there and they can’t leave it alone.

And therein lies the never-aging frailty of the human ego that Haigh gets so right. With the reemergence of Katya’s body, Geoff is whisked back to the past and once again reminded of a love realized and yet left incomplete by tragedy. If he were a 40-something who had run into a high school flame at a reunion, he might buy a flashy car. He’s not that guy. Instead, he starts smoking again. He tries reading Kierkegaard again. He moves a little closer to being that irritable old man who wonders if he did it right. He worries that his old love’s frozen body has not aged a day while his has aged thousands. These little changes, these little comments, this renewed interest in a time he long filed away keeps the paint chipping and threatens to crack a wall.

Kate is in tune with it all. Acutely.

At first, it’s not that big a deal. Sure, it’s an old love, but it’s a dead love. However, as Geoff’s interest in Kierkegaard and finding old mementos increases, and as those moments when the couple would share quiet small talk turn into a discussion about Katya (again), Kate wears down. She asks questions—little ones—that illustrate the stoic and supportive face she wears on the outside hides an unraveling self-confidence on the inside. Learning something new and unexpected only exacerbates the problem because now it feels like Geoff is hiding something. When she starts poking around in the attic, her disbelief is crippling. The stakes are immeasurable because it’s not as if she might lose her husband to some fling the way a 40-year-old might; she might lose her husband to a ghost, and there’s no fighting that.

Rampling plays her incredibly deep and complex role to perfection. There is no scenery to chew, no impassioned speech to make, no confrontation to be had with “the other woman,” so in the absence of that, Rampling wields subtlety like a surgeon with a scalpel: precise, efficient, effective. It’s an amazing performance, and one made greater by the fact that Haigh keeps her the focus of almost every scene. But Courtenay is no slouch either, and it takes a real actor to be convincing in his late-life change and give Rampling everything she needs to shine.

Love does not have a finish line. There is no point along the timeline of a relationship where someone can say, “We made it this far; nothing can come between us now.” A relationship is like any other living thing: it needs constant care and attention, and it is always susceptible to damage, whether it’s a budding flower of romance or a mighty oak of marriage. With 45 Years, Andrew Haigh and his pair of stars prove this to be true, and they do so in the most well-measured yet mesmerizing of ways.

The worst part about creating a Best Of list is usually what’s not on it as opposed to what does wind up getting a place. There are simply too many films to go around in a year, and therefore too many good or great films to contain in a (relatively) small list. Even if we expanded our list to 50, the same problem would remain; there will always be something that misses out.

We like to be inclusive here at Way Too Indie, so we asked our writers to pluck a movie out of their individual top tens that didn’t make the cut and write about it. Below you’ll find what comprises our honorable mentions, fantastic films whose only problem was that the collective numbers didn’t work out in their favor. These are films that, just because a ranked number isn’t beside their title, doesn’t mean they can’t enlighten, entertain or duke it out with what makes up the consensus. And while our Top 20 is only a few days away from being revealed, we hope you’ll look at these films as an extension of that list, and a further sign of just how good of a year it was for film.

Way Too Indie’s 2015 Honorable Mentions

45 Years

Imagine sharing your life with someone for nearly half a century and then, a week before you celebrate your 45th wedding anniversary, you see and feel a side to them that makes you reevaluate your whole life with that person. The basic premise of Andrew Haigh’s 45 Years is as horrifying as it is simple; laying the foundation to one of the most quietly riveting pictures of the year. Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay portray Kate and Geoff Mercer with a kind of timid eloquence that makes you feel effortlessly and unequivocally attached to them not as characters, but as people. Living, breathing, fragile people. As it’s really Kate’s journey of introspection and observation, Charlotte Rampling takes up more of the central stage. Thanks to Haigh’s gentle and delicate direction, it almost feels like we hold Kate’s hand as she goes through the motions, with Rampling evoking more through the slightest of movements, whimpers, and fleeting glances than most actors can dream about. Two single-takes—one featuring a projector and another playing out to The Platters’ “Smoke Gets In Your Eye”—bring Haigh’s direction and Rampling’s performance to peak heights, confirming (in my opinion) the film’s status among the very best of the year. [Nik]

Amy

Amy Winehouse’s life story—the rock-n-roll fable with the unhappy ending—is a familiar one. And with Amy, director Asif Kapadia taps that familiar vein, hitting all the key points in her life as a good bio-doc director should. But that’s where the routine filmmaking ends and the dazzling presentation of the singer’s story begins. Kapadia mines exhaustive video footage of Winehouse’s life, particularly her pre-fame years, so much of which was captured on camera, allowing him to do more than just present Winehouse’s life; he is able to fully immerse the viewer in it, which is most impactful in Winehouse’s more mundane moments like hanging out at home, goofing off, sleeping in a car, etc. And because it’s mostly a linear presentation, it feels like you are growing up with Winehouse. When Winehouse’s later life devolves (and devolves again), Kapadia creates a sense of recall, of looking back at small things the viewer had “lived through” with younger Winehouse, ultimately creating the realization in the viewer they are watching Winehouse spiral downwards in real-time…and there is nothing that can be done about it. [Michael]

Blackhat

One of the most unfairly maligned films by mainstream audiences this year was Michael Mann’s Blackhat. After a six year hiatus following his 2009 masterpiece, Public Enemies, Mann has made what’s likely the best of the many films to tackle our relationship to technology this decade, a film deeply rooted in the identity of the 21st century. What was once tangible, physical, has been reduced to numbers, data, code. Human characters register as tiny, endangered organisms navigating a high-tech metropolis of their own creation. When they’re introduced to one another early on in the film, they work as a team, but it’s all business. They mirror the efficiency of technology in the orchestration of their mission to subdue the titular blackhat hacker. The last third of this film shifts tonally to move toward some of the most purely expressionist filmmaking to ever come out of Hollywood. Lighting and movement no longer distinguish setting or signify plot elements, but reflect mood instead. In this segment, the digital world has collapsed in the presence of man—computer wars have become fistfights. We feel the warm blood of the injured characters. The tangibility of their flesh permeates the screen. Mann suggests that there is no way to escape the infiltrating power of computerized entities, affirming that our humanity, and our ability to connect with those around us, is all we have left. [Cameron]

Girlhood

With a catchy dance song blaring on the soundtrack, Girlhood opens on a high school football game before providing two subversive reveals: it’s an all-girls football game, and both teams celebrate together afterward, focusing on the fun of playing rather than categorizing winners and losers. It’s one of many sly, evocative and welcome twists to the coming-of-age tale about Marieme (Karidja Toure, giving one of the most underappreciated performances of the year), a teenager who doesn’t transition into adulthood so much as get thrust into it by circumstances beyond her control. Sciamma tackles themes of race, gender, identity, friendship, family and more with a kind of naturalism that’s rarely seen; these themes are simply there, embedded in the day-to-day existence and addressed accordingly. Sciamma’s understanding of this is what helps make Girlhood such a powerful, moving and relatable film, even when its ideas are filtered through the specificity of Marieme’s story. Unlike that other coming-of-age tale, which portrayed growing up as a pacified journey through the status quo (a comparison I hate to bring up, given it’s mostly a coincidence of timing and titling), Girlhood shines a light on a perspective seldom seen, a life where becoming an adult is a constant struggle for the freedom from circumstance. If we had more films like Girlhood getting made, cinema would be in a much better place. [C.J.]

James White

James White, filmmaker Josh Mond’s directorial debut, is most likely a film that will garner acclaim solely for Christopher Abbott and Cynthia Nixon’s powerhouse performances. That’s a shame because the film itself is so much more than the sum of its parts, and one of the rawest, most genuine explorations of grief and parental loss in quite some time. James White follows its titular character—a young man in his twenties attempting to deal with the loss of a father he never really knew—while learning to cope with the fact that his mother, Gail, is likely to pass soon too. Mond, for an emerging artist, has a surprisingly vast knowledge of how to direct his actors, so that viewers feel like they’re watching people live their actual lives rather than performances on a set. Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély (Son of Saul) deserves special mention as his extreme close-ups and extended behind-the-shoulder tracking shots increase the intimacy of the relationship, not just between James and his mother, but between the film’s characters and their audience as well. [Eli]

Macbeth

There are many ways that one can bring Shakespeare to the big screen. You could play it safe and strictly adhere to the original text. Alternately, you could change everything, placing a modern day filter over the plot to make Shakespeare’s already universal themes somehow more relevant. With this most recent adaptation of Macbeth, director Justin Kurzel doesn’t quite fall into either camp. He keeps the words and 11th-century setting, but rips it out of its dry “high school English” associations, creating a highly visceral experience that is overwhelming in the best way possible. A deathly pallor hangs over the thing—provided in part by a dread-filled score—and the atmosphere is intensified by a perfectly integrated hint of the supernatural. In addition to the breathtaking visuals, a great depth of feeling is brought to the table by the actors. Michael Fassbender does career-best work with his portrayal of the mad Thane of Cawdor, and as Lady Macbeth, Marion Cotillard is brilliantly icy, but also increasingly disturbed by the monster she’s helped create. While it doesn’t top Kurosawa’s adaptation of the Bard in Throne of Blood, Kurzel’s Macbeth is a formidable achievement and one hell of an experience. [Byron]

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

I’m not sure what happened to the thunderous momentum Me and Earl and the Dying Girl had following its record-breaking distribution deal and glowing reviews from its Sundance premiere, but it’s unfortunate to see its praise evaporate. Loaded with self-aware wit from screenwriter Jesse Andrews (adapting the script from his own novel), director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon crafts one of the most charming and emotional films of the year. The film skirts most teenage drama conventions by putting everything on the table up front (the title says it all, really). With outstanding performances and creative camerawork, Gomez-Rejon offers a fresh take on a familiar story. It’s no secret how the film ends, yet Me and Earl and the Dying Girl remains a tear-jerker and one of the best films that 2015 had to offer. [Dustin]

Mustang

With every new year, I see more women onscreen. More women leading films, and more female casts proving they can carry films. As half of the population, it’s still so disappointing to me how little I see my gender represented onscreen. 2015 worked hard to continue tipping the scales. Many women led us through fantastic stories, expanding the scope and variety of female-centric films. A few of those films made our Best Of list, and our honorable mentions list isn’t nearly long enough (our apologies to The Diary of a Teenage Girl, Grandma, Trainwreck, and many others) but there’s no other film out this year that I am enforcing on all that I meet: first time writer/director Deniz Gamze Ergüven’s Mustang. The story of five rural Turkish girls’ summer break and the huge transitions enforced on them because of cultural tradition and old-fashioned female subjugation. A film as wild as its name implies in its tenacity, hilarity, and thrills, Mustang manages to cast an unblinking eye on the very real way women are still being feared because of their implied sexuality and for the unfortunate sin of being born female. Ergüven shows us modern, free-spirited young women, who think and behave much the same as any teenagers in the US but endure treatment that simultaneously feels alien and yet familiar. A tale of heroes, not victims, Mustang is entertaining, heart-pounding and utterly enlightening.  [Ananda]

Queen of Earth

Alex Ross Perry received indie acclaim last year for his sophomore release Listen Up Philip, an acerbic comedy praised for its intelligent script. His follow-up, Queen of Earth, is a dramatically different film, even as its characters continue to be wholly unlikable. Here, though, the pleasures come not from Perry’s expert wordsmithing but heightened emotions, kinetic editing and the performance of its star Elisabeth Moss. The film takes place primarily at a vacation home used as a summer getaway by two longtime friends, Catherine (Moss) and Virginia (Katharine Waterson). After Catherine finds out about her boyfriend’s infidelity, her growing depression only deepens while spending time with Virginia, a fading friendship that largely continues because of their summertime tradition. Mix in Virginia’s smug boyfriend (Patrick Fugit) as a perfect foil and Catherine’s psyche completely cracks. The film’s unusual structure gives the bleak tone different levels, but Catherine’s descent goes completely dark by film’s end. Queen of Earth is more of an impressionistic look at depression than a clinical one and the results are incredibly artful and soul-punching. [Aaron]

The Revenant

Leonardo DiCaprio and Emmanuel Lubezki do career best work in The Revenant, if that’s not enough to get you insanely excited for this film then nothing will. Lubezki (who probably will and should win a third straight Oscar for his work on this film) is a big reason for the effectiveness, beautifully capturing and making you feel the harsh conditions and environments that are present. This even tops Lubezki’s stunning work from The Tree of Life. DiCaprio deserves an equal amount of praise, for an actor who just did great work in The Wolf of Wall Street using his natural charm and the public’s perception of his own crazy lifestyle to drive the performance. It’s amazing to watch him strip himself of everything that naturally works for him. This is DiCaprio at his most restrained and physical and he knocks it out of the park. Combine these two with a strong supporting cast featuring Tom Hardy and Domhnall Gleeson, and the solid direction of Alejandro Inarritu, and we have one of the better films to come out of this awards season. [Ryan]

Seymour: An Introduction

There have been a lot of under-the-radar movies in 2015 I’ve kept in my back pocket, ready to pull out at parties when people ask me what they should be watching in the theater or on their sofa. Without exception, the one I reach for first is Seymour: An Introduction, the ravishing documentary by Ethan Hawke about retired concert pianist Seymour Bernstein. It’s not just the best documentary of the year; it’s one of the best movies of the year, period. There’s almost nothing I treasure more than being able to spend time chatting with a master of their craft, and this is the filmic version of such an experience, allowing us to sit at the feet of an artist who ceaselessly gives back to the art form he loves. There’s a tinge of melancholy to the filmmaking that sends chills down your spine when you least expect it, and you can tell Hawke approached the project with utmost appreciation, respect and humility. Once you hear Bernstein’s fingers touch his vintage piano for the first time, filling the room with a glorious sound like you’ve never heard, you understand why. [Bernard]

Spring

Good genre-benders are somewhat hard to come by because they generally lean too far on one side of the spectrum, resulting in elements on the other side falling flat. Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson’s romantic horror movie Spring is the exception—equal parts eerie and adorable, due in part to phenomenal performances from leads Lou Taylor Pucci and Nadia Hilker. Despite their abundance of shortcomings, the characters are relatable and likable, and their cursed love is emotive in all the right ways. Pucci and Hilker share a wonderful chemistry, but Moorhead and Benson make it clear that a happy ending is unlikely for the duo. As a result, the moments when things actually go as planned are joyous in a realistic, believable way. The frightening moments and phenomenal special effects are a horror fan’s dream, but the sequences are bittersweet as they mean certain danger for the protagonists. Spring is one of the most original films to come along in years, an absolute must-see piece of genre filmmaking that doesn’t play by the rules. [Blair]

Tangerine

From the moment that Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and Alexandra (Mya Taylor) spill out of a Donut Time and onto the streets of downtown Los Angeles, Tangerine becomes an entrancing, chaotic journey about two transgender prostitutes, the pimp boyfriend who cheated on one of them, and an Armenian cab driver with a taboo indulgence. Sean Baker’s fifth feature film is bathed in orange sunlight and joyfully lurid, but the strongest element of this ultra low budget feature is its resounding empathy for all involved. Both Rodriguez and Taylor—actual transgender women—imbue their characters with raw, acutely self-aware performances that have depth and humor to them.

Baker’s intimate perspective turns a funny, trashy exploitation film into a more profound and heartfelt character study. These are characters that are exceedingly charming despite their behavior, and relatable in unexpected ways. The fact that Baker achieved all this with a movie shot on the iPhone might be the most impressive aspect to Tangerine. The movie is easily one of 2015’s most pleasant surprises. [Zach]

Another year, another collection of unforgettable films, and another collection of unforgettable moments. Our list of unforgettable films is still on its way, but like last year we feel compelled to single out some scenes from 2015 that bowled us over and stayed in our brains. Some of these scenes are moments we cherish from our favorites this year, and others are great highlights from films that might not have been able to squeeze into our top tens. But as varied as this list may be, everything on it is another reason why we still love watching movies (even if that means watching a lot of duds). Read on to see what we loved from this year, and be sure to let us know what moments or scenes you couldn’t forget.

45 Years – The Anniversary Party

I’m a little hesitant to go into much detail on the anniversary party scene of Andrew Haigh’s 45 Years, as it is the culminating scene of this fine film, but it without a doubt deserves recognition. By the time the characters and audience have arrived at this scene, so much emotional turmoil has been quietly digested. In a typical film, this would finally boil over, acting as the ultimate breaking point that the film was literally building to from the beginning. Here, however, it becomes a beautiful and very sad interplay between its celebrated couple. Charlotte Rampling is particularly stunning here, all the way up to the film’s final shot—she has gone through so much internal struggle that you almost want her to explode, but for the actress’ better judgment, she gives the scene so much more complexity when the cracks begin to show. [Aaron]

Arabian Nights: Volume 2 – The Desolate One – The Tears of the Judge

Miguel Gomes’ Arabian Nights trilogy is filled with highlights and lowlights, but of the many stories told over the trilogy’s combined ~6.5-hour runtime, this bravura 40-minute segment in Volume 2 is by far the best part of all three films. Taking place in an outdoor courtroom, a judge (Luisa Cruz) presides over a case involving apartment tenants selling furniture belonging to their landlord. The judge declares it to be a simple case of theft, but when she decides to probe further (“to share thoughts and moralities with you all,” she explains to the crowd watching the case) she triggers a convoluted blame game. The defendants argue that their landlord is a vile person, which leads to testimony saying he abuses 911 operators, and from there genies, cows and polygamy get thrown into the mix. This is blunt, on-the-nose political filmmaking of the best kind, with Gomes increasing the absurdity of the situation at an exponential rate with each new development. It’s smart, hilarious stuff, and the story’s bookending sequences—involving the judge’s daughter losing her virginity—adds the kind of sting that turns good satire into great satire. [C.J.]

Bone Tomahawk – Meal Prep

Bone Tomahawk opens with the image of someone getting their throat slit with a dull knife, a grisly scene that helps establish writer/director S. Craig Zahler’s preference for brutal, realistic violence. But that opening won’t prepare anyone for what comes much later (almost 90 minutes later, to be precise), well after Zahler’s film has settled into a pleasantly poky groove. Our four heroes, on a trip to save their friends and loved ones from cannibalistic cave dwellers, find themselves captured by their foes, and Zahler shows what happens when one person gets selected to be the next meal. It’s a horrifying sight that’ll have viewers covering their eyes and plugging their ears (God only knows what was used to create those sound effects), and Zahler puts splatter filmmakers like Eli Roth—who tried his hand at cannibal horror this year with The Green Inferno—to shame. Just remind yourself to watch this film on an empty stomach whenever you get the chance to see it. [C.J.]

Eastern Boys – Home Invasion

The opening minutes of Robin Campillo’s Eastern Boys shows middle-aged Daniel (Olivier Rabourdin) approaching young male prostitute Marek (Kirill Emelyanov) and propositioning him for sex. Marek agrees to meet Daniel at his apartment the next day, but Daniel has no idea what he’s in for once there’s a knock at his door. Instead, almost a dozen people come pouring into his apartment one at a time, all of them part of Marek’s gang run by the charismatic and intimidating Boss (Daniil Vorobyev). It’s a surreal sequence running just over 20 minutes in length, and it’s all the more fascinating by Daniel’s unorthodox reaction to the situation; he quietly lets Boss and his underlings steal everything out of his place, and when the boys start an impromptu dance party in his living room he joins in. It’s a remarkable experience watching it all unfold, with Campillo oscillating between the intensity of the scenario (culminating in an unexpected act of violence) and how alluring it is for Daniel to be surrounded by so many objects of his desire. The rest of Eastern Boys doesn’t maintain the same quality, but Campillo has created an undeniable mini-masterpiece with this one sequence. [C.J.]

Entertainment – The Heckler

Rick Alverson, who’s quickly established himself as a master of cringe humour, creates yet another masterpiece of discomfort with this scene in Entertainment. While doing a show at a tiny bar somewhere in the California desert, The Comedian (Gregg Turkington, aka Neil Hamburger) gets interrupted by what he thinks is a heckler (Amy Seimetz, making the most of her brief screentime). But Alverson shows what Turkington’s character didn’t see: that the heckler was getting harassed by a man at the bar, her outburst directed at the man beside her and not on stage. That doesn’t stop The Comedian from tearing into her, hurling a barrage of nasty (and funny) insults her way. The sequence works so well because of the way Alverson constructs it within the familiar framework of a drama or character study; take away the context behind Seimetz’s “heckling” and the scene can look like Turkington defiantly taking down a critic. Instead it’s something much uglier, going against expectations and turning the protagonist into a villain. Alverson’s films are never easy, but that’s what makes them great. [C.J.]

The Forbidden Room – “The Final Derriere”

A musical interlude about a man’s addiction to female rumps (and the bizarre method he chooses to overcome it) would be strange in most any film, but it even stands out in Guy Maddin’s wackadoodle masterpiece The Forbidden Room. In the scene, the great Udo Kier plays a man tormented by a whip-wielding “Master Passion” (a fine cameo by Geraldine Chaplin). The song is incredibly catchy, a mix of styles just like the film, with a bit of a Beach Boys sound, a bit of Queen’s theatrics, a bit new wave and even a bit heavy metal—but it is without a doubt a singular piece, telling a singular story. It’s also an incredibly catchy tune; I’ve been humming “a little more off the top, a little more off the top” since I first watched the film. This plays beautifully off how morbid and grotesque both the song’s content and Maddin’s images are, tapping into the absurdity that The Forbidden Room wears so well. [Aaron]

Girlhood – “Diamonds”

From the outset, Céline Sciamma’s Girlhood establishes the hard conditions of its main character Marieme (Karidja Touré). She’s doing poorly at school, stuck in an abusive situation with her family, and feeling alienated. It’s only when she meets a group of three outspoken girls who eventually befriend her that she starts to feel a sense that she belongs somewhere, and Sciamma beautifully shows the precise moment when Marieme finally embraces her new identity. The girls rent out a hotel room for the night, a means of escaping their problems, and Marieme watches as her new friends sing along to Rihanna’s “Diamonds” under a blue light. Marieme sits back watching before finally joining in on the fun, and Sciamma (who lets the song play out in its entirety) lights the scene to make all four girls look like they’re glowing. It’s a touching, celebratory moment, where Sciamma gives her characters the opportunity to break free from their lives and truly be themselves, even if it’s only for a moment. [C.J.]

Mad Max: Fury Road – The Bullet Farmer’s Final Charge

Pulling a cartridge from his mouth, the villainous leader of the Wasteland’s arms faction croons: “One angry shot…for Furiosa!” Decked out in a bullet belt headdress, perched atop a golden tank tread vehicle and literally armed to the teeth, he speeds into the night. Meanwhile, our tough band of defectors and escapees struggle to pull the stalled War Rig out of the mud, their ears perking up as distant shots ring out. In a film loaded with explosive, go-for-broke chase sequences and wildly eccentric displays, the Bullet Farmer’s solo charge might be my favorite combination of both elements. The character’s blind machine gun spray (perfectly accented by an impassioned appeal to the heavens and Verdi’s booming “Dies Irae”) is a gloriously mad affair. However, the sequence is grounded by a wordless interaction between Furiosa and Max in which Furiosa uses her comrade to stabilize her rifle, making a perfect shot and shattering the Farmer’s searchlight. The foggy atmosphere and deep blue day-for-night lighting only add to scene’s deliriously intoxicating effect. [Byron]

Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation – Vienna Opera House

The Vienna Opera House sequence is the “Burj Khalifa moment” of Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation. It may not be as spectacularly white-knuckle or as death-defying in its stunt work, but for my money, it’s the biggest show-stopper in a thriller boasting several great candidates. Partially set to an emotionally stirring performance of “Nessun Dorma,” the scene offers intense hand-to-hand combat and a mysterious cat-and-mouse game. Christopher McQuarrie’s intricate direction closely details a number of moving pieces, Tom Cruise does a solid job of conveying his character’s conflicted feelings, and everything builds to an intelligent climax. It’s one of the best set pieces of the year. [Byron]

Mustang – The Soccer Game

More of a plot point than a specific scene, the events that lead to and come from the attendance of a soccer game really scores the special quality of Deniz Gamze Ergüven’s female-driven Mustang. Due to violent hooliganism, Turkish officials decide that all men will be barred from an upcoming match. This sparks soccer fan Lale to enlist her sisters (who don’t care too much for the sport) to sneak out from their small town and sheltered lives and take part. It’s really a minor part of the first act, a short sequence that could probably be the greater plot of another film, but it encapsulates the spirit of its characters so incredibly well. What’s more, it leads to a wonderful and surprising action from the girls’ aunt in what soon after becomes a very haunting and serious film. [Aaron]

Phoenix – “Speak Low”

There aren’t enough superlatives to describe the ending of Phoenix, Christian Petzold and Nina Hoss’ latest collaboration. For most of its runtime, Petzold’s film is a narratively straightforward and psychologically complex tale of disfigured Holocaust survivor Nelly (Hoss) trying to regain her old identity after receiving facial reconstruction surgery. But when Nelly finally accepts the reality of her situation and rises from the ashes, Petzold closes Nelly’s story with a breathtaking wallop. Without going into specifics (seriously, stop reading and go watch Phoenix already), Nelly sings the song “Speak Low,” and through her performance the story unravels and resolves itself in a way that inspires chills. It’s by far the best ending to any movie this year, and could easily go down as an all-timer. [C.J.]

A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence – The Third Meeting with Death

Roy Andersson’s filmmaking style makes for easy inclusion in lists like this, as his work often takes on an episodic quality. Many of the funny, poignant or disturbing scenes in A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence could make the cut, but it’s the third in the film’s opening trilogy of scenes (marked as three meetings with death) the leaves the biggest impression. The first two scenes are brief bits of physical humor: a man who collapses while struggling to uncork a bottle and a woman on her death-bed desperately clutching a handbag. These are audacious and quite funny, but the third scene adds Andersson’s incredible dryness. To set the stage: a man has died while in line at a cafeteria. While three obnoxiously stiff officials wonder aloud what they should do with the body, the nearby cashier pipes in with a question: what should she do with the food he purchased? The matter-of-fact, monotone response, thought out way too meticulously, and the reaction of the gathered crowd of diners are wonderfully characteristic examples of Andersson’s odd look at human nature. [Aaron]

Steve Jobs – John Scully vs. Steve Jobs

A showcase of a writer at the height of his powers. this scene can be classified as a verbal set piece. Just moments before taking the stage to introduce the NeXT Computer, Jobs is challenged by Apple CEO John Sculley (Jeff Daniels), about the myths surrounding why Jobs was ousted. What follows is a bravura sequence seamlessly weaving between past and present at breakneck speed. Aaron Sorkin’s dialogue is sharper and more acidic than ever, and the sequence has dips and climaxes that are more potent than most action movies. For a scene that is essentially two men standing in a room and talking, it’s overwhelmingly energetic and the performances really help viewers invest in the words being spoken. [Byron]

Wild Tales – Pasternak

Anthology films are rarely as successful as Damián Szifrón’s Wild Tales. The film’s six shorts are thematically linked, but I would argue their strongest connection is in tone, which is beautifully set by the film’s opening segment. Without giving too much away (because there is a brilliant twist in there), we open on an airplane where a man makes small talk with a beautiful woman across the aisle. They realize, through what seems like blind luck, that they have a common acquaintance—a failed composer who used the date the woman and studied under the man. You won’t believe what happens next. Once the scene ends, anyone watching Wild Tales is ready to know just how dark the film is willing to go, and just how creatively it can get there. Of all the films within the film, the opening is the most wildly enjoyable and the most successful in marrying the film’s themes with its point-of-view. Without this segment or its placement in the film, Wild Tales wouldn’t click so well as one of the best films of the year. [Aaron]

What else?

We’d be foolish not to give some sort of shout out to other terrific scenes throughout the year, like the hilarious funeral sequence in Li’l Quinquin, which had us doubled over from laughter; both the border crossing and night vision sequences in Sicario; the ending of Carol, which should get an emotional response out of even the coldest souls; the opening long take in Buzzard, a painfully funny experience much like Entertainment; the bonkers final act of Jauja; a scorching scene from The Fool where the town mayor lays into her corrupt staff; everything that happens at Mamie Claire’s house in Mistress America; the intense argument between Gerard Depardieu and Jacqueline Bissett in Welcome to New York; the tightrope sequence in The Walk, and much, much more.

Following its Berlin Film Festival premiere at the end of last week, 45 Years has sold its North American distribution rights to IFC Films partner Sundance Selects. The latest film from director Andrew Haigh (Weekend, Looking) opened to a strong reception in Berlin, with many reviews admiring the performances from Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtney in the lead roles.

In the film, Rampling and Courtney play a couple a week away from their 45th wedding anniversary celebration when a letter arrives for the husband. The letter explains that the body of his ex-girlfriend, who died 50 years earlier, has been found frozen in the Swiss Alps. This discovery rekindles old memories and threatens to unravel Rampling and Courtney’s marriage. 45 Years is based on a short story by David Constantine and was adapted by Haigh.