BTS Documentary Bring the Soul Review

"I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow."

A few years ago I would have described myself as a passionate cinema lover and a devoted husband and father, but only one of those things was true. My entire life revolved around what I was intending to watch that evening, and as a result I didn't show my beautiful wife nor my wonderful daughter nearly enough love or attention and I actively spent my time and energy on my own interests, and those were watching and writing about films.

There is nothing wrong with being passionate for the arts, in fact I encourage anyone to embrace anything that moves you. There is nothing wrong with using time and energy towards self-interests and writing can be a cathartic and incredibly important means of self-expression. The problem lies in the moments when that passion and those interests become an addiction, and those moments become days and those days become weeks and those weeks become months and those months become years and that time when I wasn't with my family, when I wasn't adequately showing them my love and appreciation, it's gone and it's never coming back. No matter how hard I try, I can't get it back.

The past is the past and it cannot be changed, and to regret it is to waste more time. The present is now, and it's mine. The future is something I look forward to because my present is constantly dictating it, and my present is constantly full of love for what matters. My wife matters. My daughter matters. They matter more to me than the air I breathe or the beats of my heart, perhaps not in a literal sense but I can tell you with all honesty and sincerity that I don't actively consider nor express my gratitude for oxygen but on a daily basis I try to remind the two loves of my life that I owe them both my entire world.

Earlier this year my daughter expressed interest in watching the Grammys, something she had previously never so much as even mentioned passively so her palpable excitement came as a surprise. At some point during the show I heard her screaming from her room so I hurried in to check on her to make sure she was alright. Her rather audible reaction was one derived from positivity and attraction and fandom as the seven young men that comprise the Korean musical group BTS were on the screen, thus revealing her entire motivation for wanting to watch the award show in the first place. She just wanted to see the Bangtan boys on the screen.

I instantly supported her love for BTS but my initial reaction in regards to their music was mixed, mostly because I was closed off mentally from the idea of a man my age finding value in K-pop that seemed to have a target audience of teen girls. Nevertheless, my wife and I quickly embraced watching videos with her for literally hours on YouTube because we recognized the value or bonding together as a family and my time to be selfish had long since expired because I refuse to waste another minute. I already wasted so many that I can never get back. If I had to sit and watch BTS content day after day I would and I not only wouldn't complain, I would embrace it. I was excited about it. I know now that I am blessed to have the opportunity to love and be loved by the strongest, most insanely gorgeous woman alive and by a miracle of a daughter who is as kind and empathetic as she is beautiful and that's saying something because every room she enters is brighter solely due to her presence.

Whatever they want to do from this moment on, for the rest of my life, I will be there. Sign me the fuck up for literally anything as long as they are by my side. I'm able to recognize now as I reflect on a dark and rather empty time in my life that my decision making in those moments wasn't merely clouded by selfishness or apathy, although there was plenty of each soaked into everything I said or did. I know now that I was depressed, and I won't get into the private details of how I turned my life around but let's just say that I owe my wife everything. She saved me and thanks to her every single day feels like a gift, and every time I look at her I fall more and more in love.

A funny thing happened as I consumed seemingly endless hours of BTS music and content in general: I discovered that I enjoyed them on a deeper level than just the way they brought my family even closer. I discovered a depth to their songwriting thanks to their openness and honesty in regards to issues like their own mental health amongst other things and I connected with their goals and values and their desire to be inclusive with their art and their messages of love, whether it be love for one another or a love for oneself that is essential towards a healthy state of mind. I connected with their obvious appreciation for cinema, some of their influences worn not so much on their sleeves but broadcast with no intention of subtlety like in the video for their song "Fire" when a bicycle engulfed in flames passes by a static camera as the words Lost River are written in the background of the shot, a blatantly obvious reference to the divisive directorial debut from Ryan Gosling. Other influences are more vague and worthy of dissection like a multi-year effort to weave multiple videos together into one dark and dramatic storyline, one that certainly brings a film like Donnie Darko to mind in the end and I'm sure that's only scratching the surface of it.

When I saw that tickets were on sale for a new BTS documentary film I knew instantly that purchasing tickets was a must and my wife, daughter and even my mother and father-in law joined me at the theater to share yet another experience together, and sure enough Bring The Soul is an expertly edited, fun, insightful and moving film that follows the group behind the scenes of their tour as they struggle both physically and emotionally while never losing sight of how grateful they are for their success and the journey they are on together. The footage is raw and honest, at times painful, at times exhilarating, and always a delight to fans of the group and anyone with an open mind willing to potentially embrace something new.

I will never get that time from my past back but I refuse to be plagued by regret. Doing so would just waste more time, time that could be spent with the people I love most in this world, people whom I will be forever grateful that they never stopped loving me back. I choose to move forward focusing on who matters and what bonds us, to always remember that my present is always bound to and shaping my future. If that future includes seemingly endless hours with the amazing women in my life watching BTS, count me in. I hope they both know I love them more than yesterday and less than I will tomorrow. If I spend a lifetime making sure they know that and feel it too, then that's a life well lived.


3.5/5

Eighth Grade Review

"Do I make you sad? I don't know. Sometimes I think that when I'm older, I'll have a daughter of my own or something...and I feel like if she was like me, then being her mom would make me sad all the time. I'd love her because she's my daughter, but I think if she turned out like me that being her mom would make me really sad."

There was a time in my life when I probably seemed fine to the outside world, a fun kid who tried his hardest to face each day with optimism instead of despair, but the image I portrayed to everyone around me was a fallacy. On the inside I was struggling, medicated twice daily from a recent grand mal seizure that resulted in an official epilepsy diagnosis, a subject that should seemingly be off limits to be the source of bullying but being thirteen defies all logic or sensible reason most of the time. I walked through the halls in a malaise in increasingly larger clothes than I had worn only one year earlier thanks to a rapid yet in retrospect totally predictable weight gain. I was called twitch by a certain small but vocal section of my peers that found it very fulfilling to pick the scab over my epileptic wound, each day I wondered if they would feel guilty for their words had they been there that night in that hotel room when my parents and older brother weren't sure what was wrong with me, weren't sure if I would wake up again, a vacation turned upside down with an ambulance ride and speculation of brain abnormalities. Probably wouldn't have changed a thing. 

The worst year of my life was eighth grade. I never liked school all that much, but I can still vividly remember one very specific night of my life, the night in which Christmas break ended in early January of 1998. It's one thing to dread the return of waking up early and strict class schedules and homework, that's to be expected from a vast majority of not only adolescents but from adults forced to return to work after a vacation, but my response on this one particular night was emotional to the point that it would seem irrational to an outsider looking in as I barely slept a minute due to crying for hours straight. Thousands upon thousands of nights have come and go over the years and are never recalled again, but for whatever reason I will never forget that night. I will never forget a lot of what happened during eighth grade.

Bo Burnham's debut film Eighth Grade came at a very interesting time in my life where I am young enough to still not only remember that year but still feel a touch of the pain derived from it as well, and also being that I am a father of an 11 year old girl who will be in middle school in a blink of an eye and I just have to hope she has a better experience than I did. My ability to connect to two characters in the film, the awkward and hopeful yet damaged and sad lead played wonderfully by Elsie Fisher as well as her father Mark played by Josh Hamilton, a man who loves his daughter with everything he has and always wants to be there for her but isn't 100 percent comfortable or confident in his ability to connect. Where I am more fortunate than Mark is that he is a single father in the film whereas I have an amazing wife, but that only made me more sympathetic to his character as I can't imagine having to do this alone.

I connected with Eighth Grade because the film feels so honest. It's really easy to tell a derivative and lazy story about teenagers riddled with cliches and tropes painfully fatigued from overuse but Burnham crafted something extraordinary here because it is laser focused on avoiding bullshit and not manipulating the emotions of the audience. There is one scene in particular in the film that is so harrowing and uncomfortable to watch mostly because you just know how delicate and difficult it likely is to swallow for many young girls as well as women watching who faced something similar, and the reason it hurts is because it plays out with such credible and sincere honesty. I never had to face something like that nor was I ever the person putting someone through such an experience, yet I can still say with total confidence that Burnham captured something raw and real there.

I loved Eighth Grade in part because of how much I hated eighth grade. Emotions from over twenty years ago came bubbling to the surface as I witnessed this superb piece of cinematic storytelling unfold and when the film ended I knew it was special, but over the course of the last couple of days since I have reflected on it and recognized it's even more than that. I hope parents ignore the R rating and allow their children to watch this movie when they are ready because it is important for them to consume stories that feel authentic to what they are really feeling, what they are really going through on a daily basis. My daughter has only recently began fifth grade and even though we are watching her as her eyes grow wider to the world around her and the realities of adolescence, she just isn't in Bo Burnham's wheelhouse yet with this one, but when the time is right we will sit down and watch this together. I already know she will see at least a bit of herself in Elsie. I know I did.

5/5

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture Review

"It is more like carrying something really heavy, forever. You do not get to put it down: you have to carry it, and so you carry it the way you need to, however it fits best."

I have never written a book review before now. For years my focus has been on the images we see on the screen, whether it be television series or films, but while all of that time was spent on that medium I was still trying to read relatively often (not often enough, my wife would say, although I have taken steps to change that). I've had some very strong reactions to various books, especially recently as I have explored the work of Fredrik Backman, and if you have read Beartown you will likely put two and two together reading this review and recognize why that was his work I connected with the most. Even being deeply moved by other pieces of literature, like Beartown, I never felt compelled to put any words down regarding the experience.

My aforementioned wife? She loves to read. A lot. She will complain how she has barely read at all this year while I am overwhelmingly enthused about the steps I have taken to consistently keep turning the pages, and yet she has read over double what I have. She recently checked a book out of the library called Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture and as soon as I saw the cover I knew I had to read it as well. The book is an anthology of essays written by various people including actors Ally Sheedy and Gabrielle Union along with other very talented writers, with all the essays detailing in some manner a personal connection they unfortunately have with rape and rape culture.

The book is a devastating yet essential read, one of those publications many will likely avoid because it is far easier to escape the world through fiction than face it with hard to swallow facts. Don't avoid this book, read it because these are stories being told by extremely brave survivors of both their specific attacks and the culture that allows this to have happened and continue happening, and every single one of them deserves to be heard. I am always reminded of the Oscar voters who anonymously admitted that while they voted for 12 Years a Slave to win Best Picture, they did so despite never seeing the film because subjecting themselves to two hours of horrors based on what people actually had to endure was not possible for them. Why watch something so topically challenging when you can turn on whatever mindless bullshit and pretend like pain and tragedy aren't a reality to so many, past, present and future?

That's exactly why I do watch those movies or read these books. Because real people had to endure such horrific things, such heartbreak, such pain, such trauma, such tragedy, while I have been privileged enough to face so little over the course of my 34 years on this planet. I watch and read those stories because there are real voices screaming out, begging for someone to listen, and I want to listen. We all need to listen.

"The Life Ruiner alone didn't ruin me. The world that made him did - the place that continues to manufacture replicas of him and continues to create the circumstances in which he and his replicas thrive."

It's difficult to really pin down the first time I was introduced to rape culture, because lord knows I probably was surrounded by it in extremely subtle ways from the moment I was born, but I will always remember the moment I first learned of the shocking, awful crime that happened almost literally right in my backyard. One of my best friends growing up had an elderly couple that lived directly behind them and they maintained a pool in their yard and allowed all of the children in the neighborhood to come over and swim without invitation. My friend had a ladder that stayed in the same spot all summer long so that we could safely climb over and spend all day in that wonderful, refreshingly crisp water. It was a place filled with tremendous joy owned and maintained by seemingly tremendous people who were generous enough to open their home and their pocketbook to kids of no relation to them, always making sure the water was crystal clear and kept at the perfect temperature.

Then one day when I was a teenager, I heard the news: the man with the pool was caught raping his granddaughter. I couldn't comprehend it, not only the act of rape which in itself is incomprehensible but his own granddaughter? How could someone do such a thing? Had he ever hurt anyone else? The part I remember the most was a conversation I overheard between two people in the neighborhood shortly after details of exactly what had happened began to trickle out for public consumption.

"She says it had been happening for years!"

"Why didn't she say something sooner?"

There was something about that question being the instantaneous knee-jerk reaction that I found jarring and extremely troubling, not just the question itself but the tone in which it was asked. It's what, years later, I learned was called "victim blaming", a particularly disgusting and shameful practice in which the first instinctual reaction to any crime sexual in nature is to immediately question what the victim did wrong, what they must have done to deserve it. What was she wearing? What did she say? Did she say no loud enough? Why did she go to his house? She must have known this was going to happen? She was probably asking for it.

I feel sick to my stomach just typing those words.

The answer to any and all of those questions, of course, is it doesn't matter. There is no justifiable reason that excuses an assault, and we need to believe women who say they were assaulted. I found myself deeply immersed in the worst clusters of humanity when a local professional hockey hero was accused of sexual assault a few years ago, and I waded too far into the depths of the ugly side of Twitter and discovered just how many people instantly declared his innocence and felt compelled to viciously attack a woman they didn't know and knew nothing about. This was just a young woman who said she was assaulted and because he is great at a sport and people loved to cheer him on she was a "lying whore". What a deeply disturbing, eye opening experience, to see such vitriol towards a stranger, and I think of it anytime a new story comes out about an assault that took place many years ago and the go to comment from so many is, why didn't she say something sooner? The very same thing I heard a member of my community say about a child victim, assaulted by her own grandfather.

Why say something at all if the natural public reflex is "lying whore"? Why speak out if no one wants to listen?

"As I listened to her, as I watched her be an encourager of other people's storytelling, an independent, smart woman and a survivor of sexual assault, I felt, finally, like maybe my story was worthy of telling, too. And maybe I was worth the telling of it."

The answer is to change our cultural response. The answer is to believe women. Have there been phony rape charges filed before? Obviously. But the vast majority of the accusations from women who do find the courage to speak up are true. I read an estimate that came from study once, and I would love to credit the work if I could remember where I saw it, that somewhere in the range of 2 to 5 percent of all rape and sexual assault accusations were "false" and even those numbers are misleading because some cases were labeled that way even though they merely lacked the evidence needed to prove they were true. Let's just take those numbers on face value though, for the sake of this argument: if 95 to 98 percent of accusations are true, shouldn't we listen? Shouldn't we believe women who say they were assaulted?

Of course, not everyone is going to suddenly shift the way they approach this topic. So many people are set in their ways, and unfortunately those ways include calling victims unspeakably awful things due to an assumption that they are lying. All I can hope is that the majority of people keep an open mind and read an outstanding and important book like Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture. Absorb every painful word from each one of these stories and appreciate how brave one must be in order to tell them in the first place. Appreciate that these victims are just asking for someone to listen. Listen to them and believe them so that more victims aren't terrified to speak up in the future. Stop questioning why they are speaking up when they are. Applaud them for having the courage to speak up at all.

"Perhaps the most horrifying thing about non-consensual sex is that, in an instant, it erases you. Your own desires, your safety and well-being, your ownership of the body that may very well have been the only thing you ever felt sure you owned - all of it becomes irrelevant, even nonexistent."

There is no such thing as "not that bad" when it comes to a sexual assault of any kind. Every single one is tragic. Those that want to tell their stories deserve to be heard. We all need to listen.

Thoroughbreds Review

"What else did it say?"

"I don't know. I just threw it away."

Remarkably cinematic considering the script was originally developed as a stage play, Thoroughbreds is the work of a filmmaker in their prime and yet this is the debut feature from 29 year old playwright/director Cory Finley. In fact, Finley had never worked on a film of any kind in any facet prior to writing and directing what is thus far the best film I have seen from 2018.

The film focuses on two upper-class teenagers who were once close friends but have since drifted apart, though Finley doesn't waste any time attempting to paint every inch of his canvas with exposition (and thank goodness for that). We learn of their previous bond through subtle dialogue that hints rather than via elaborate explanations, and at a brisk 92 minute run time Thoroughbreds demonstrates that this young, shockingly inexperienced filmmaker has a natural knack for pacing. Playing the lead roles are Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy and to say they were the perfect choices isn't being hyperbolic in even the slightest sense. It all starts with the script, but these two brilliant young actresses were crucial in bringing Finley's words to life.

Cooke plays Amanda, a teenage sociopath who commits a horrific act of violence on a horse during the opening moments of the film (it occurs off screen, for those who may be turned off by seeing such things) and thus is relegated to spending much of her time seeing shrinks and kept far away from the stables. Taylor-Joy plays Lily, seemingly happier and more stable than Amanda but there is a darkness residing underneath her clean, aesthetically pleasing exterior presentation. They are reunited years after their friendship fell apart because Amanda's mother thinks her daughter needs to socialize more, and a generous financial offer is extended to Lily in exchange for some one on one SAT tutoring. It's during this time that Amanda learns of Lily's awful stepfather Mark (Paul Sparks), which leads to Amanda asking a sinister question with zero emotion or concern:

"Do you ever think about just killing him?"

Thoroughbreds is a film about privilege and affluence and how those things ultimately are only able to mask who you truly are underneath. It's also about how fucking terrifying it is to witness the moment someone becomes self-aware of their status and how it can be utilized to quite literally get away with murder. It's also a film that is darkly comedic and in an odd way a lot of fun thanks to every terrific performance, including one I haven't mentioned yet from the late great Anton Yelchin, who tragically died in a freak accident in June of 2016 at the age of 27. He had finished filming all of his scenes prior to his death and his turn in Thoroughbreds serves as a bittersweet reminder of what an extraordinary talent he was.

Featuring the note-perfect screenplay from Finley who also directs the hell out of the film, along with some really inspired camerawork from cinematographer Lyle Vincent and an essential musical score from Erik Friedlander, Thoroughbreds is one of those pieces of cinema that comes along and reminds me of exactly what it is that lead to me falling in love with the medium. I look forward to revisiting this one, I've got a feeling my admiration will continue to flourish down the road, and I can't wait to see what else Cory Finley is capable of.




4.5/5

M Review

"Just you wait, it won't be long, the man in black will soon be here, with his cleaver's blade so true, he'll make mincemeat out of you!"

87 years after its release and yet remarkably not a second of Fritz Lang's M feels dated. It's a cold, expertly crafted serial killer thriller and sits right along side another Lang masterpiece Metropolis as quintessential examples of cinema far ahead of its time. With some films it can be difficult to appreciate how influential they proved to be for elements of modern filmmaking because unfair or not, having already seen the future, going back to the past later on can feel redundant. M is not one of those films. Having fallen in love with cinematic serial killer storytelling thanks to the work of artists like Fincher, Demme and Hitchcock, I am able to soak in all that they clearly learned from a master like Lang, whom upon reflecting on his own career declared that M was his favorite of all his work. I can see why. 

5/5

On Our Anniversary - Miracles, My Wife, and The Tree of Life

"The only way to be happy is to love. Unless you love, your life will flash by."

It's really hard to determine the moment you actually fall in love. On February 14th, 2005, I was sitting at a friend's house when she walked in, and there was something about her that immediately grabbed my attention. That she was stunningly gorgeous, sure, but it was more than that. This was the first time I had ever been to that house and nothing else about those few hours proved to be all that memorable or interesting, but I couldn't wait to go back the next day. We barely even said a word to each other that first night and I carried zero assurances with me that I would ever see her again, but it's the only reason I went back. I had to go back.

Whenever I ponder when I first knew I was in love, I always come back to one specific night. It was way too early to actually say those three words. We weren't even a couple yet, so it's safe to say I kept my mouth shut regarding my feelings, but it was a night where her and I just drove around and talked. She shared so much of herself with me and one thing that was made abundantly clear was that when it came to her previous relationships, no one had treated her the way she deserved to be treated. I felt the weight of sadness crashing down on my shoulders and a thought kept running through my mind, not one that merely belonged to that singular moment but one that felt like more of a long term goal.

I need to make her smile.

"I will be true to you. Whatever comes."

It's sort of ironic that I'm using a film right now as the template to express the love I have for my wife on our 12 year wedding anniversary because the medium played a role in a period of time where I lost sight of my goal. My focus was on other, far less important things when it should have always been on her and our incredible daughter. At the start of this year, I woke up from the time I spent sleepwalking through life and love, recognizing that everything that made me feel whole was right in front of me in the form of two people whom I am blessed enough to share my name with. These few months since have been the best of my 34 years of existence because I have never felt more loved. I can only hope they feel the same.

So you might be wondering, what the hell does this have to do with Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life? It's simple, really. I chose the most beautiful piece of art that I have ever witnessed because my wife is the most beautiful human being I have ever and will ever know. For 12 years of marriage and over 13 years overall now, Megan has always been there for me. She brings just the right amount of energy and fun when things are too mundane but also is the perfect calming presence for when my mind tries to steer me the wrong way. She makes me laugh every day, and every night I look at her and think about how lucky I am that she is the first thing I will see when I wake up. I will never be able to thank her enough for her kindness, not only towards me but more importantly towards our daughter. Taking a step back and actually recognizing her grace and compassion as a mother is a gift that I constantly treasure. She is my best friend, the love of my life, and the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

"Love is smiling through all things."

I have previously wrote about The Tree of Life and my main focus was centered on the idea that what Terrence Malick had created was proof that miracles exist. The film sets out to prove that existence itself is a miracle. The amount of moments throughout history that had to happen exactly as they did in order for you or I or anyone else to have even been born is astounding and something no one should take for granted. Deciding to go over to that house for the first time on February 14th, 2005 was a miracle because she walked in and gave me the life I have now and a love that I didn't think was possible. She walked in and because of that our daughter now has the chance to exist, and I hope someday she gets to experience the kind of love I feel for her mother. I will tell her to stay focused on what matters most and never take it for granted, not even for a single day. 

For years now I thought The Tree of Life was proof that miracles exist. What I didn't understand was that the proof was right in front of me all along. My wife is a miracle. My daughter is a miracle. The love I feel now is a miracle. 

For the rest of my life, until I take my final breath, I will do everything I can to make her smile. She's so beautiful when she smiles.

My 50 Favorite Films of 2017 - #10 through #1

Took my sweet ass time getting here but it is time for my top ten favorite films from 2017. The best of the best.

10. Logan

Big fan of a large portion of the X-Men cinematic franchise but it has never been better than Logan, James Mangold's R rated film that takes us into the future to see an older, broken down former superhero having to drive a limo as a job while taking care of his mentor, Charles Xavier. With a terrific supporting performance from young newcomer Dafne Keen, Logan is terrific.

9. Lady Bird

So many positive things can be said about Lady Bird, like that it is directed expertly by Greta Gerwig, performed beautifully by every single member of the cast, and features an extremely funny script that also knows when to wipe the smile off your face. My favorite thing about this film though is how honest it is and how it channels that honesty into an extremely real portrayal of growing up, yet it also shines a light on what it's like to raise a child only to watch them desperately strive to leave home and get as far away from you as they can.

8. The Big Sick

A romantic comedy about the real life courtship of the film's writer and star Kumail Nanjiani and his now wife Emily (played terrifically by Zoe Kazan), The Big Sick is a warm, funny yet at times hard hitting treasure. I expected to really enjoy this film given that I didn't get a chance to see it until it was on Amazon Prime (which it still is, go watch it now if you haven't seen it), so I was already well aware of the critical and audience praise, but I was still stunned by how much I connected with this picture. 

7. Thor: Ragnarok

Listen, I love Marvel films. I own almost all of them, I rewatch them endlessly, they are a ton of fun, but it's rare when one ends up in my top ten of the year. Thor: Ragnarok is so damn entertaining it was impossible for me not to include it, as this easily joins the ranks of the first Guardians of the Galaxy and Captain America: The Winter Soldier as the best the cinematic universe has offered up thus far. Despite being a huge fan of Taika Waititi prior to this, I had reservations whether his style would translate to such big budget studio fair, if they would let him utilize his style at all that is. Thor: Ragnarok is very much a Waititi film and in the best ways possible.

6. The Florida Project

I knew this film would make me cry. I had been warned, but vaguely, with no specifics offered as to what would get me. Sean Baker's entire film is brilliant but for the first 98 percent of it I had not received that gut punch I was waiting for, and then the ending happened. Good lord. The Florida Project isn't always an easy watch but a lot of remarkable cinema isn't. See this damn film (and while you're at it, see Sean Baker's previous work Tangerine as well. It's amazing). 

5. Get Out

A horror film released in February written and directed by Jordan Peele? No chance it ends up a top 5 film. Then I saw Get Out and knew instantly it would appear way up on my 2017 list. What a completely brilliant debut film from Peele.

4. Personal Shopper

Writer/director Olivier Assayas and Kristen Stewart form quite the team, first showing the world what kinda performances Stewart was capable of with her superb supporting work in Clouds of Sils Maria, and then coming back with her in the lead role of Personal Shopper, one of my biggest surprises of the year. This is a thoughtful, layered, chilling, fascinating work, telling the story of a young woman who recently lost her twin brother, and she seemingly has the ability to communicate with his spirit. What a film.

3. Dunkirk

Some films, like the previously listed Personal Shopper above, come out of nowhere and knock your socks off. Others are totally expected, with months of hype leading up to release and then the finished film lives up to those lofty expectations. That's what happened with Dunkirk, as I knew I had to see a 90 some minute Christopher Nolan war film as soon as possible. This is so wonderfully edited and realized as a cinematic experience, and seeing it on the biggest IMAX screen in the area didn't hurt.

2. A Ghost Story

Back to another huge surprise from the year, easily the biggest one (considering my favorite film was one I truly expected to love completely), David Lowery's A Ghost Story is a work that many people likely will dislike as it features no traditional narrative of any kind. We see a young couple (Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara) experience a great night together quietly in bed, the kind of happiness you hope to find in life from a significant other, and then it cuts ahead to a car accident. The husband (Affleck) dead, his head on the steering wheel. His wife must move on tragically without him, but we painfully witness his return as a ghost as he watches everything he knew and the woman he loves move on without him and there isn't anything he can do about it.

I was hit emotionally by this film in a very deep and profound way and have watched it two more times since the initial viewing. Perhaps because right now I am focusing a lot of my attention and energy on making sure I am the best husband and father I can be and the idea of losing it all in an instant is especially horrifying as I prioritize what matters most, but A Ghost Story has found a way into my soul and devastates me. This low budget film is a unique, moving achievement.

1. Star Wars: The Last Jedi

God it feels so lazy for me to rank a Star Wars film number 1, seeing as how since very early in my adolescent years the franchise has always been deeply personally important to me. Despite my love for The Force Awakens, it actually wasn't my favorite film from 2015 (nothing was stopping Mad Max: Fury Road). Upon my first viewing, The Last Jedi actually wasn't at the top of this list (although I still loved it) but it took a revisit to fall in love. In my humble opinion Rian Johnson crafted a tremendous film here, one that was willing to take some bold risks rather than just pander for nostalgia. So yeah, it's expected for me and a lot of people who know me would roll their eyes at this and say "Of course" when they see it, but I can't deny it, The Last Jedi was my favorite film of 2017.