What a year it has been. The inevitable death of English football,
the long-awaited War of Independence up north, and not to mention enough
#neknominations, #nomakeupselfies and #icebucketchallenges to keep our over
occupied social-media lives filled to the brim. Film-wise, it hasn’t been a bad
one either: turns out Matthew McConnaughey, despite his best wishes 5 years
ago, is going to go down as one of the acting greats, and that someone can make
a good animation outside of Studios Pixar and Ghibli (see The Lego Movie if you haven’t already). So here I present to you,
my hotly-anticipated, critically-definitive, and massively oversold Review of
the Year (the film year, here, starting post-Oscar frenzy). Devour.
Considering his glorious career of star-making performances, from Donnie Darko to Jarhead and Brokeback
Mountain, Jake Gyllenhaal might just be earning a name for himself as the
next DiCaprio: all applause and no awards. Gyllenhaal might just be breaking
that curse here, with a character that’s equal parts petty thief as it is
Patrick Bateman. Slightly autistic and near psychotic amateur cameraman Louis
Bloom dominates the screen in this morally troubling neo-noir, spouting out
regurgitated online business hints as he happily films families being murdered
and car crash victims bleeding out. Mixing Gyllenhaal’s everyman charm with a
chilling air of insanity, here we have perhaps the earliest frontrunner for the
Oscars.
Wes Anderson is known for, among many other things, his ability to
assemble casts of acting royalty, both a blessing and a curse: the curse being
that impressive performances can often get lost in the mix. Here, Fiennes, as
the flamboyant and sharp-tongued M Gustave, consistently steals the show, quite
a feat when coming up against Bill Murray, Adrian Brody, Harvey Keitel, Tilda
Swinton, et al. A wonderful mix of charm and scheming, Fiennes gives an
outstandingly understated comic performance, perhaps the most memorable in all
of Anderson’s backlog.
Back in March, my excruciatingly over-excited piece on Jonathan
Glazer’s Under the Skin tipped
Scarlett Johansson’s central performance as an all time great, and nine months
later I still stand by my brash statement. Johansson’s unnamed
extra-terrestrial communicates an emptiness and coldness beyond human
conception, one who unflinchingly seduces members of the public into her fatal
‘den’: as a character which speaks minimally throughout the film, Johansson’s
predatorial eyes and steely expression consistently convinces as a hunter
stalking the hunted.
Poor poor Rosamund Pike, for after this film undoubtedly any family
or friends, were I in their shoes, ought to run for the hills. As the so-called
‘Amazing Amy’, the thrilling rollercoaster ride of the film is all pinned on
the conniving and manipulative performance of Pike as the eponymous ‘gone
girl’. Shout out for perhaps the most white-knuckle scene of the year as Amy
appears to, er, change her mind about a possessive ex-boyfriend, played by Neil
Patrick Harris.
Tom Hardy seems hardly able to put a foot wrong these days, in a
spate of films that has seen him in a scene-stealing role in Inception to full on supervillain Bane
in The Dark Knight Rises. Here,
unfortunately, he has been plonked in what might be considered the most boring
film of the decade so far. The quantity of reviews along the line of ‘See how
good Tom Hardy is when its just Tom Hardy being Tom Hardy in a car’, oh and
‘how good is his welsh accent?’. Well, Locke
is a film which becomes increasingly claustrophobic, not on account of its
thrilling suspense or superb cinematography, but simply because you are
wondering how long of your life you have wasted this completely yawn-fest. Oh,
and Hardy’s accent isn’t even that fantastic.
Sold as a cheap horror comedy and slipped under the radar in the
early months of the year, this outstanding horror-comedy presents what is
perhaps the most spot-on social commentary in years, to both hilarious and
horrific results. Two out-of-work losers bump into each other after a number of
years apart: their evening turns sour as David Koechner’s eccentric playboy
propositions them with what seems like an easy money-making exercise, which
quickly twists into possibly the worst evening of their lives. A spot-on
commentary of consumerism and the extent one would go for money, especially at
our lowest moments.
Top
Five Films:
5) Frank (Lenny Abrahamson)
Possibly the weirdest film of the year, we follow experimental band
Soronprfbs based loosely on Jon Ronson’s account of his time with Chris
Sievey’s Oh Blimey Big Band on tour. Michael Fassbender excels as the
half-genius half-mentally deranged Frank, despite being masked by an enormous
papier-mache head for the majority. 
4) Interstellar (Christopher Nolan)
Christopher Nolan’s long awaited arrival in the science-fiction
genre left heads itching for weeks to come. A space epic with stunning visuals,
a mindblowing score, and a script that just might be too clever for its own
good. Given all this, plus top-flight performances from Matthew McConnaughey
and Anne Hathaway, this did by no
means disappoint.
3) Boyhood (Richard Linklater)
To the hordes of critics saying Interstellar
was the most ambitious film of the year, look no further: Boyhood, if you haven’t heard already,
was filmed over the space of 12 years! 12 years! Passion projects don’t come
bigger than this, as Richard Linklater not only pours vats-full of emotion into
this, but in a beautiful way sums up his illustrious film career so far. Cameos
of contemporary references, including the Gameboy, US elections, and a plethora
of music which wonderfully encompass the year, make this particularly pleasing
to an adolescent who has practically undergone the same thing. 
2) Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer)
Still the most thrilling alien invasion film in years, Jonathan
Glazer strikes a chord that’s less Steven Spielberg and more The Old Firm.
Glazer and Johansson plucked unknowing strangers off the streets of Glasgow,
both fictionally and real life, to be devoured by unseen force. Mica Levi’s
score echoes Close Encounter with heaps
more suspense, a fantastic work of art in its own right. Prize for the most
spine-chilling scene of the year, involving a trusting surfer, a baby, and the
relentless power of the ocean.
1) Gone Girl (David Fincher)
Never before has a film left me unable to walk, let alone speak.
David Fincher’s dissection of marriage twists, turns, and crashes like a
rollercoaster that has fallen off its tracks. An analysis of the media, a
redefinition of trust, a fresh perspective on love, and an incredibly
unreliable narrator, Fincher leaves no ground untrodden. Gillian Flynn’s
outstanding script is brought to life by Fincher’s characteristically shadowy
cinematography, and at the centre a career-high performance from Ben Affleck,
notable considering his recent directorial rebirth. Most certainly not for the
faint hearted, and hard to describe as ‘enjoyment’, this is truly the full
package, and certainly the most ‘on-the-money’ film of the year. Viewing
compulsory, caution advised.
Best of the Rest
Album of the Year – Alt-J, This is All Yours
Song of the Year – Jungle, The Heat
TV Show of the Year – True Detective
Hero of the Year – Pope Francis
Villain of the Year – Nigel Farage/Russell Brand (joint winners)
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