Yes, we should be entirely way done with 2021, but permit us to close the books on this difficult year with one last belated feature whose title is not meant to be a backhanded compliment to the films, nor scolding and yes, generally relative as many people did see them, but not most (and yes, there will be some overlap with our Best of 2021 coverage, though it’s minor)
READ MORE: The 25 Best Films Of 2021
While most of us remain inside with far too many streaming options dangled in front of our eyes, it doesn’t appear general audiences will be returning to theaters for movies that contain anything less than three Peter Parkers uniting on screen anytime soon. For this reason, now is a more important time than ever to (safely) seek out, and support, the cinematic artists struggling to make great work on the fringes—the kind of small/mid-budget projects that studios rarely ever produce these days, unless you’re coming off several Oscars for your scaly fish-man romance.
READ MORE: The 20 Best Films Of 2022 We’ve Already Seen
While it may be cliché to say—and, yes, there is a long way to go when it comes to fair access/gatekeeping inclusion issues—festivals like Cannes confirmed that uncategorizable titles pushing back against heteronormative, hegemonic ideas (hello, “Titane”) can still exist, and do have an audience hungry for more uniqueness. All things considered, 2021 was an unreservedly incredible year for movies—from a craft quality, not a business standpoint—partly considering most major 2020 releases were pushed back. Basically, world cinema fans were treated to two years worth of magic compressed into one festival season, and it felt like every acclaimed artist who didn’t put out a film before the pandemic started (and some who did, even) had at least one release on the calendar (in some cases, two). So, in the spirit of closing out the year, but a helpful reminder to look past the Spielbergs, the Campions, the Villeneuves, and Paul Thomas Andersons of the world, here’s our list of the Best Films Of 2021 You Didn’t See (ok, you might have, but the general public may not have).
“The Beta Test”
An “Eyes Wide Shut”-esque/’90s erotic thriller-tinged, Hollywood “horror satire” (think Michael Douglas movies like “Basic Instinct” or “The Game”) “The Beta Test” often reads like the derisive flip-side to last year’s superb, inside the industry psychodrama, “The Assistant.” Following a betrothed, sycophantic talent agent, Jordan (Jim Cummings), whose life goes haywire after receiving a mysterious purple envelope, inviting him to a secret sexual encounter with a purported “admirer” in a hotel. Balancing a high-wire act of uncovering the identity of his lover, following the affair (they both wore blindfolds during the hook-up), Jordan races around town to ensure he won’t get “canceled” if he’s found out for his fetishes, all the while coming to grips that his business is still chasing the outdated, problematic, Harvey Weinstein model (both in and outside the boardroom). A black comedy about a self-pitying sad sack who whitens his teeth in the rearview mirror every day, “The Beta Test,” (co-directed/written by Cummings and PJ McCabe) may not be groundbreaking from an indie filmmaking standpoint but its text gnashes with comic fangs. [Our Review]
“Atlantis”
Myroslav Slaboshpytskyi‘s slow cinema masterpiece, “The Tribe” —a film told entirely through sign language via a one-shot-per-scene design mentality— remains one of the most criminally unsung, and untouched, cinematic achievements of the 21st century. Directed by “The Tribe’s” cinematographer, Valentyn Vasyanovych, “Atlantis” (Ukraine’s International Oscar submission for last year’s Academy Awards) is an industrial sci-fi film in perpetual mourning, a visceral genre exercise—shot almost entirely in static, single takes—that serves as an apocalyptic overlay to a sordid authoritarian future. Set in Eastern Ukraine circa 2025, the film follows a shell-shocked soldier (Andriy Rymaruk), now a foundry laborer, producing steel ”for the soul of the world.” It’s hard to describe the Orwellian details without getting too world-buildy, as the rumination-heavy film is far more concerned with its taxing atmosphere than it is story twists. Not for the faint of heart, “Atlantis” is a hardened work of Eastern Bloc cinema, one that plays like a brutalist autopsy of a cold, drab, landscape ravaged by traumatic abandon.
“Sophie Jones”
A close cousin to feminist coming-of-age dramas “Diary of a Teenage Girl” and “Never Rarely Sometimes Always,” first-time writer/director Jessie Barr’s death-stricken, “Sophie Jones,” starring her cousin, Jessica Barr, in the titular role, playing a young woman who falls into a depressive, sexual conquest spiral after the passing of her mother. Both eager and afraid to give a new dry hump buddy her first bj, Sophie suffers a panic attack and storms out of the party, but everyone knows why (and who) she went into the bathroom (with). “I like it being mindless,” she tells her best friend, after explaining why the idea of meeting a boy’s parents is an utter turn-off for her. “It just seems like ever since your mom died, you’ve turned into this crazy nympho,” noticing that Sophie isn’t so much chasing pleasure as trying to numb the pain away. Feeling backed into a corner by peer intimidation pressures, judgemental rumors of her intimate escapades start circling around school — a classmate warns Sophie that the senior she likes has a list of girls waiting to suck him off, but, if she expresses interest, that will dull the chase for him. Wrestling with the immense issue of misogynistic double standards, Barr’s potent debut does not pull its punches — authentically portraying confused, callow teenagers at their most detestable and dejected. [Our review]
“The Disciple”
Sharad (Aditya Modak, in a splendid performance) has dedicated his life to becoming a distinguished Raag (Indian classical music) singer, attempting to honor the legends who have shaped the creative force he wishes to become. Lulling viewers into a trance-like state as he rides through town on his motorcycle, listening to old CD and cassette recordings he’s transferring to vinyl, obsessively fixating on the lectures and theories of a vocal master, Maai (Sumitra Bhave)—most shots containing her voiceover compositionally breathtaking. Selling records at a merch table while entering competitions to showcase his spoken and improvisational talents in an effort to break out as a performer, a patron scoffs that he’s never heard of any of the musicians on the records being sold. “Yes, so, but they are as good as the famous ones,” Sharad tries to assure him. “Don’t tread the path. Learn to be lonely and hungry,” Maai’s teachings say. But is Sharad becoming too consumed by her Fincher-esque philosophy that there’s a difference between mediocre and acceptable? Written, directed, and edited by Chaitanya Tamhane, “The Disciple” is a sharply focused look at the necessary sacrifices one’s pursuit of artistic perfection has on confidence and the creative psyche. [Our review]
“Benedetta”
Subtle is not the reason one pops in a Paul Verhoeven movie. Bendetta (Virginie Efira) is the Bride of Christ. We learn that she truly believes this through visions where she runs into the Son of God’s open arms, and others in which she takes part in bloody fantasy beheadings. “Benedetta, your feet!” a sister chastises when the titular nun starts fluttering furiously during a religious re-enactment —in which she’s supposed to be playing dead— being delivered visions of her holy importance, instead. A new “innocence” soon arrives, Bartholomea (Daphné Patakia), with whom Benedetta starts a masochistically cruel relationship ignited by an intimate fire between their eyes. Soon, the former has fashioned a phallic toy from a wooden Virgin Mary and pleasurable penetration games ensue. Subtle, huh? Sarcasm aside, the period lesbian satire finds the unfettered filmmaker at his most transgressively jocular. As Jessica Kiang put it in our Cannes review, “if “Benedetta” is a joke that Verhoeven is in on, and that is designed to play to those in on it too, we can at least be thankful that it’s a good joke — not that there’s anyone up there to be thankful to.”