Top 50 New To Me Films of 2014

My year in cinema was characterized by auteurist spurts and my tendency to seek out cinema with themes that are of interest. It is ironic that 2014 was the year when I abandoned the idea of auteur theory being strictly linked to directors, and yet my list is rife with filmmakers who I decided to explore this year. The biggest director of 2014 was Chantal Akerman. Her cinema of inward, slow moving beauty connected instantly and while I had been a fan in the past this was the year she possibly became my favourite director. Queer Cinema has a strong hold on this list with the likes of Paris is Burning and John Waters films making appearances. Dance is strong as well, as my interest in ballet intensified this year when oddly enough I became interested in wrestling. The two share components of filming bodies in action and Wiseman and Akerman found the beauty of movement in "Ballet" and "One Day Pina Asked". John Carpenter and Jean Luc Godard were of great interest to me last year as well as I finally undid my preconceived notions of Carpenter's lesser discussed works and found them to be just as strong as anything else he ever made. Starman may even be his best film, as he's never been more human telling the story of an alien. Godard's work in the 80s, along with Notre Musique, delighted me last year as my appreciation for his breaking down of form while keeping with familiar languages clicked in a way that opened him up to me in a way he had previously been closed. However, the crown jewel of last year was Paris is Burning. A film made of portraits, of beautiful people who long to exist and express themselves.

One note: Films from 2013 and 2014 are banned from the list. Every other year is eligible.

1. Paris is Burning (Jennie Livingston, 1990)

2. Ms. 45 (Abel Ferrara, 1981)

3. Female Trouble (John Waters, 1974)

4. Don't Go Breaking My Heart (Johnnie To, 2011)

5. Starman (John Carpenter, 1984)

6. The Magnificent Ambersons (Orson Welles, 1942)

7. Brief Encounter (David Lean, 1945)

8. Hotel Monterey (Chantal Akerman, 1972)

9. Take Care of My Cat (Jeong Jae-eun, 2001)

10. They Live (John Carpenter, 1988)

11. Notre Musique (Jean Luc Godard, 2004)

12. Something Wild (Jack Garfein, 1962)

13. Ballet (Frederick Wiseman, 1995)

14. The Heartbreak Kid (Elaine May, 1972)

15. Toute Une Nuit (Chantal Akerman, 1982)

16. King Lear (Jean Luc Godard, 1987)

17. Gremlins 2: The New Batch (Joe Dante, 1990)

18. Hard, Fast & Beautiful (Ida Lupino, 1951)

19. Duelle (Jacques Rivette, 1976)

20. Deadly Outlaw Rekka (Takashi Miike, 2002)

21. Throne of Blood (Akira Kurosawa, 1957)

22. Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story (Todd Haynes, 1988)

23. Mikey and Nicky (Elaine May, 1976)

24. The Doll (Ernst Lubitsch, 1919)

25. Christine (John Carpenter, 1983)

26. Martin (George A. Romero, 1976)

27. Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1929)

28. Matinee (Joe Dante, 1993)

29. Ishtar (Elaine May, 1987)

30. Pink Flamingos (John Waters, 1972)

31. Meet Me in St. Louis (Vincente Minelli, 1944)

32. Bound (Lily & Lana Wachowski, 1996)

33. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Howard Hawks, 1953)

34. One Day Pina Asked (Chantal Akerman, 1983)

35. The Immortal Story (Orson Welles, 1968)

36. The Great Muppet Caper (Jim Henson, 1981)

37. The Bigamist (Ida Lupino, 1953)

38. The Long Day Closes (Terrence Davies, 1993)

39. D'est (Chantal Akerman, 1993)

40. The Great Dictator (Charlie Chaplin, 1940)

41. Five Deadly Venoms (Cheh Chang, 1978)

42. High School (Frederick Wiseman, 1968)

43. Come Drink With Me (King Hu, 1966)

44. L'Intrus (Claire Denis, 2004)

45. Chimes at Midnight (Orson Welles, 1965)

46. Ace Attorney (Takashi Miike, 2012)

47. First Name: Carmen (Jean Luc Godard, 1983)

48. Outrage (Ida Lupino, 1950)

49. Working Girls (Lizzie Borden, 1986)

50. The Sweet Smell of Success (Alexander Mackendrick,, 1957)

Female Filmmaker Project: The Gold Diggers (Sally Potter, 1983)

I find it charming that the first film I ended up viewing for this project in 2015 was helmed by an entirely female crew (outside of some actors), and specifically about the intersections between women and capitalism. Sally Potter finds herself creating a kind of dystopia, but one born out of real life problems faced by women, and in the context of today's "Lean In" feminist discourse it remains all the more searing about capitalism's blatant misogyny. Men follow our two women leads (Julie Christie and Colette Laffont) doggedly even though these women try to escape. Metaphorically linking the problems of breaking free from a patriarchal society and how that ties up in capitalism. Many of the same men that follow these women into back alley's and up stair wells appear as their bosses in other scenes. In one moment Laffont is working inside of an office surrounded by desks and computers (this is reminiscent of The Trial in a modern setting in how it's framed and how terrifying those rows of desks appear. The terror of the mundane is also present in 1991's undervalued The Rapture), as she asks one question "What do these numbers mean?" her white boss speaks down to her and the film moves into a dream sequence where the men of the world literally sit on desks that appear ten feet in the air as any woman would have to look up to him just to get a response. It feels as if Terry Gilliam even references some of these same visual ideas a few years later in Brazil as this dream sequences is also made of shapes, cubes and also feels as thin as paper.

The film also has a fascination with how money effects celebrity. A matriarchal figure appears in queenlike fashion towards the end, but it isn't so much a scene of success on her part for having broken through this system as it feels like a moment where her celebrity gives her the privilege of existing without the issues of finance. Men carry her around and preach about gold, but it doesn't effect her. This is one of only two real scenes where women are seen as being above men on a visual level. The other scene features a dance, and echoes a "what if" scenario as women unshackle themselves from dancing men and embrace each other instead. They twirl around and the black/white colour scheme no longer fills the screen, instead it's filled with transcendent whites as the men hit the floor and the women run off to do whatever they want. It's a real sense of freedom, and plays opposite to the scenes where our two female leads cannot escape men.

Gold Diggers doesn't exist exclusively in the role of woman though, even if it's more consistently about them. There are scenes where the problems of how our financial system effects men as well. The name of the film takes it's cue from the recurring image of men hiking along a hill in the dead cold of an ice-y winter just trying to make ends meet for their families. The monochromatic colour scheme is only pierced by the clothes on their back as they hike and hike. They appear to be absolutely miserable; cogs in a machine, and ultimately working towards their own dead end as they walk into nothingness. The other scene where men find themselves sympathetic is in the dream sequence I mentioned above in the computer workspace. One man continually does the motions of his superior. He mimicks his voice, his actions, he sits beside him, and this once again conveys a sense of being a cog in a machine. He's kissing ass for forward mobility.

The Gold Diggers ultimately leaves me asking myself the questions of what does a capitalist system ultimately benefit, and the thesis of the picture would have you believe it is oppressive, and more specifically to women.

The Female Filmmaker Project

Last year I titled a few of the posts on my blog "Female Filmmaker Project", and in doing so I tried to spotlight the movies I was currently watching that were directed by women. This year I'm going to make that an official goal and project of this blog. I have more time to write and watch movies now that I've gotten my move to another country out of the way, and I want to devote some of this time I have to cinema, and more specifically cinema made by women. The goal is very simple: 52 films, 1 a week until the end of the year. This number may end up being more than 52, but I plan on writing about these films on this blog. This will push me to both watch more films directed by women (which is always a good thing) and to write more often. I am kind of stealing this idea from old films flicker. You can follow her on twitter under the same name I listed in the previous sentence. You should because she's awesome, and doing a project of her own next year where she only watches films directed by women for the entire year! Which is kind of incredible, and you should follow along as she chronicles that project. Over on Curtsies and Hand Grenades you'll be getting a kind of version of that once a week, and I hope you enjoy. These are the films I have lined up for the year. I'm very excited. If you have suggestions of movies to watch drop me a line down in the comments. Hugs and Love
-Willow

The List!

1. I Could Never Be Your Woman (Amy Heckerling, 2007)
2. Strange Days (Katherine Bigelow, 1995)
3. A Simple Life (Ann Hui, 2011)
4. A Question of Silence (Marleen Gorris, 1982)
5. Ratcatcher (Lynne Ramsay, 1999)
6. Starstruck (Gillian Armstrong, 1982)
7. Smithereens (Susan Seidelman, 1982)
8. Desperately Seeking Susan (Susan Seidelman, 1982)
9. Day Night, Day Night (Julia Loktev, 2006)
10. No Fear No Die (Claire Denis, 1990)
11. Almayer's Folly (Chantal Akerman, 2011)
12. The Day I Became a Woman (Marzieh Makhmalbaf, 2000)
13. Strangers in Good Company (Cynthia Scott, 1990)
14. Sheer Madness (Margarete Von Trotta, 1982)
15. Mariane and Julia (Margarete Von Trotta, 1981)
16. Romance (Catherine Breillat, 1999)
17. Waitress (Adrienne Shelly, 2007)
18. Kristina Talking Pictures (Yvonne Rainer, 1976)
19. La Cienaga (Lucrecia Martel, 2001)
20. The Holy Girl (Lucrecia Martel, 2004)
21. Female Misbehaviour (Monika Truet, 1992)
22. I've Heard the Mermaids Singing (Patricia Rozema, 1987)
23. Dyketactics (Barbara Hammer, 1974) (possibly all of Barbara Hammer's shorts this week)
24. The Eighties (Chantal Akerman, 1983)
25. Boxing Helena (Jennifer Chambers Lynch, 1993)
26. Jupiter Ascending (Lana & Andy Wachowski, 2015)
27. Step Up All In (Trish Sie, 2014)
28. Girlhood (Celine Sciamma, 2014)
29. Butter on the Latch (Josephine Decker, 2013)
30. Desert Hearts (Donna Deitch, 1985)
31. Bad Girls Go To Hell (Doris Wishman, 1965)
32. Mabel's Busy Day (Mabel Normand, 1914)
33. First Comes Courage (Dorothy Arzner, 1943)
34. Walking and Talking (Nicole Holofcener, 1996)
35. Boys Don't Cry (Kimberly Pierce, 1999)
36. Sleepless in Seattle (Nora Ephron, 1993)
37. The Gold Diggers (Sally Potter, 1983)
38. Selma (Ava DuVernay, 2014)
39. Beyond the Lights (Gina Pryce Bythewood, 2014)
40. 52 Tuesdays (Sophie Hyde, 2013)
41. In My Skin (Marina De Van, 2002)
42. The Story of the Weeping Camel (Byambasuren Davaa, Luigi Falorni, 2003)
43. Class Relations (Daniele Huillet, Jean-Marie Straub, 1984)
44. The Night Porter (Liliana Cavani, 1974)
45. The Chronicles of Anna Magdelana Bach (Daniele Huillet, Jean-Marie Straub, 1968)
46. Salaam Bombay! (Mira Nair, 1988)
47. High Art (Lisa Cholodenko, 1998)
48. Wadjda (Haifaa Al-Mansour, 2012)
49. The Gleaners & I (Agnes Varda, 2000)
50. Bend it Like Beckham (Gurinder Chadha, 2002)
51. Lourdes (Jessica Hausner, 2009)
52. July Rhapsody (Ann Hui, 2002)
    
    All of these will be first time viewings with the exception of Boys Don't Cry

True Trans: In Celebration of Transgender and Gender Variant People

Laura Jane Grace

One woman sits in an abandoned studio strumming gently on a guitar. She wears black clothing, her nail polished is a little chipped, and her hair obscures her face, She isn't singing, but these sounds emitting from her guitar provide background for a chorus of voices that were muted in a past life.

The chorus of voices is what makes Laura Jane Grace's True Trans a radically important online series. The transgender narrative is oftentimes sculpted outside of our hands. Whenever you see documentaries about transgender people they discuss surgery in ominous tones, they linger on childhood photos and present these bodies as science fair projects or worse side show attractions for those curious in seeing a before and after. It's damaging when we can't speak for ourselves, but Grace is turning the trans documentary on it's head and making it a celebration instead of a curiosity. Her goal was to meet transgender and gender variant people on the road to connect in some way, and what she has done is bring to light a true narrative from those individuals she interviewed instead of the type of linear transition story that usually sits underneath the transgender documentary category.

What strikes me personally about this show is how often these narratives intersect with my own. I can remember the first time I ever saw a transgender person on television, and just seeing that there were other options was a staggeringly emotional experience. I was always too afraid to confront those feelings head on, because of my religious upbringing and parents who were ultimately difficult after my coming out, but I always knew in the back of my mind that was where I would eventually be. Our Lady J mentions at the end of episode Four that in one moment of thought she considered what she would do if she was on a desert island and how she would imagine herself, and she saw herself as a Woman. This isn't entirely different from my near constant wishing I would wake up in a body that aligned with how I saw myself.

There's also the consideration of realization of dysphoria which I can remember vividly in my own life. I was only three or four years old. I went to bed like any other night, but my mind sent me off into what was essentially an alternate version of my life. Everything was just as mundane, and there was nothing of note in this dream except for one small change. In this dream I was a girl. A reflection looked back at me in a flowery dress and pigtails and I couldn't have been more disappointed when I woke up and saw a boy staring back instead of that girl that I knew I really was. For Grace that moment came when she was just as young as I when she saw Madonna perform on television. That's who she wanted to be, and she mentions the disappointment of knowing that it wasn't quite feasible. There are other things that link these stories like drug use, suicide attempts, and music as an outlet, but the one unifying theme is dysphoria. Blue (another transgender interviewee) mentions that it varies from person to person, but in some cases it's a living hell.

Paris is Burning

Dysphoria is in many cases the key to all of these feelings. It's why we want to change our bodies to align with how we see ourselves, and it is demoralizing to see our true selves unrepresented in mirrors every day of our lives. “It's as important as the air your breathe” is one phrase used to describe the necessity of having a comfortable body. The entire discussion centered around dysphoria in episode 2 subtly deconstructs the myth that trans healthcare is based around cosmetic procedures, and it's all done through letting transgender people speak up about their own lives, and in the context of the documentary I don't think it's been handled this well since Paris is Burning, and even then that film wasn't 100% about our lives.

True Trans isn't as formally ambitious as that documentary either, but they share a similar celebratory tone around their subjects as well as performance being a key part of identity. Paris is Burning focuses on ball culture while True Trans shifts it's lens towards punk rock. Laura Jane Grace got into punk rock in the first place due to it being about “smashing gender roles”, and others discuss how glam rock punks of the 70s featured many bands where gender roles were challenged. In essence art seems to have opened up the doors for an older generation of transgender people featured in this doc as an outlet. They didn't have the internet and no one was talking about gender variant people on television so these punk rock bands in some way slightly cracked open the doors even if they weren't actually transgender. At least they were questioning gender in the first place.

I believe art has the power to shape our world views and challenge what we see as normal. It can be a radical unseating of systematic power,, and it can get people thinking. I also believe in the personal as political theory. What makes True Trans more than just a fascinating documentary on lifestyle is how those two things intersect to make something that comes off as an important work of art. It isn't necessarily cinematic with it's 60 minutes style talking heads documentary style filmmaking, but it transcends it's own formal limitations by allowing voices to be heard that were once stamped down by a society that wouldn't listen. I go back to those days when I watched transgender documentaries on the discovery channel when my parents were in bed hoping to see another person like myself on television if only for a moment. I craved that visibility because I didn't want to be alone in this world, and it's not like I knew anyone who was transgender. Ten years later this show is now available for all those out there questioning or curious. Something this celebratory is going to have a positive impact for those who need it, and those who view it curiously not even knowing what a transgender person is like will see our humanity. If it changes one mind or helps out one person who really needed it then it's powerful in all the ways art can sometimes be. I know it will help others out, because it's already made me feel like a stronger person for having viewed it.