Jonathan Christian
Underrated: “White Boy Rick”
There were a number of movies this year that undeservedly passed under the radar (“Bad Times at the El Royale,” “Overlord” and “Red Sparrow” almost stole this spot), but no other film that nobody saw in 2018 hit me harder than “White Boy Rick.” Frankly, there’s not one particular element that makes the film stand out for me, but the overall impact of the movie’s messages left lingering whispers in my head that I still find my mind returning to every so often. Taking the thrill-heavy trailers and caliber of the talent into account, “White Boy Rick” seemed like it was set to fit snugly into the glitzy crime caper subgenre. However, the actual product is anything but clean, because this movie is gritty, foreboding and at times, outright depressing. The decrepit landscape of Detroit in the 1980s serves as the perfect backdrop to this melancholy true-life drama, while a brief cameo from rapper Danny Brown serves as a subtle, respectful nod to the city’s enduring culture in 2018. Naturally, Matthew McConaughey delivers a standout performance, while newcomer Richie Merritt manages to hold his own despite momentary setbacks. Regardless of its pacing problems, “White Boy Rick” is a layered film that leaves the viewer with food for thought. Themes of lost innocence, the effectiveness of the war on drugs and the long-term effects of crime all accompany a character-driven, distinctively human story that deserves to be seen. “White Boy Rick” is by no means a classic, but it is a good movie.
Overrated: “Black Panther” (and critics overhyping movies in general)
Honestly, I’m still adjusting to the fact that strangers may feel a certain way about things that I say about movies on the internet. But, I have to be truthful: I didn’t love “Black Panther.” Listen, I’m not implying that “Black Panther” is a bad movie, because it’s not; but it’s far from the revolutionary game-changer that many claim it is, artistically speaking. Do I respect the film for portraying black actors in positions of authority and for actively fighting against stereotypes? Absolutely, and as a person of color, I admire any filmmaker’s decision to empower minority talent in Hollywood, both in front of the camera and behind the scenes. That being said, no amount of social commentary can disparage the fact that this mediocre action flick features a boring protagonist, a similarly run-of-the-mill villain — Sure, Killmonger may be one of the best Marvel villains, but that isn’t saying much at all — and, in my opinion, would never rank in the top 10 of the genre. Honestly, I just wish people wouldn’t be so hesitant to critique movies that stand for something. Why can’t “Black Panther” simply be considered a good movie instead of an instant classic? Admittedly, I’ve contributed to this sort of hype countless times. At the end of the day, critical acclaim is simply the collective opinions of separate individuals who love cinema. However, if this amount of overinflated attention is automatically required for audiences to take notice of movies that they should be watching regardless, what does that say about the future of the film industry? I don’t have the answers for you, but what I do know is that “Black Panther” is a generic, albeit entertaining superhero movie at best. But, then again, that’s just my opinion, which is all that it should be.
Lena Wilson
Underrated: Female directors
Meanwhile, the best (yet least-recognized) of all the movies flooding pop cultural consciousness throughout 2018 were made by women. Karyn Kusama blew the doors off of the crime drama and directed Nicole Kidman into her one good role of the year with “Destroyer.” “Winter’s Bone” director Debra Granik outdid herself with a quiet, lyrical masterpiece called “Leave No Trace.” Lynne Ramsay upended filmmaking itself, using mesmerizing audio and images to create the trancelike “You Were Never Really Here.” Jennifer Fox basically ripped her still-beating heart out of her chest, served it on a platter, and named it “The Tale.” None of these women made it into the 2019 Golden Globe nominations, nor did most of their movies. (Laura Dern got a nod for “The Tale,” as did Nicole Kidman for “Destroyer.”) Oscar nominations aren’t likely to shake things up, if the last 90 years of awards are any indication.
And that’s just how it goes for the women who get a good enough reputation to garner financing and/or big-name actors. Most of them are white. Many, even after they get a foot in the door and produce a big-budget movie, have to claw their way back up to square one if that movie flops. Those women who do manage to garner acclaim then have to cling to their artistic integrity, lest they are courted by Blumhouse or entangled by the DC cinematic universe (sorry, Patti Jenkins). Not only should all women be able to make whatever deliriously good, genre-redefining art they want, but they should also actually get some fucking recognition when they do it.
If you’re reading this super long list of critical opinions here on The Playlist, you probably consider yourself a cinephile. Well, prove it. Go see movies like “Can You Ever Forgive Me?” in theatres. Catch small-fry character studies like “Nancy.” Stream Netflix-only gems like “Private Lives.” Then do it again next year, and the year after that, and tell your friends about all the mind-blowingly good shit you discover along the way. It’s the only way we’re going to keep this industry from plummeting into mind-numbing, Disney-dominated homogeneity.
Overrated: White male directors
The time for mincing words is over. In America, white men have been hogging studio money for too long. And what do we, as a society that values art and culture, have to show for it? Summertime nerd circlejerks like “Ready Player One,” the terminally predictable “Halloween” reboot, and “The Motherfucking House That Motherfucking Jack Motherfucking Built.” Let’s face it, white men in Hollywood can pretty much do whatever the hell they want while they sit around waiting for signatures on their blank checks, and “whatever the hell they want” usually involves making mediocre-to-terrible franchise films/sequels/reboots that sideline woman.
While it’s not every white dude’s fault that Hollywood will soon be subsumed entirely by uncreative, CGI-clogged, instantly forgettable Disney offshoots, 2018 felt like a year when female directors indefatigably challenged and revitalized the medium of filmmaking while white men, well, made “Solo: A Star Wars Story.” In an industry where, for centuries, white men have been given endless chances at greatness no matter how many flops they generate (or how many women/girls they rape), when is enough enough? When will we prioritize actual filmmaking, with vision and challenging content and interesting characters, over directionless drivel? Why do we keep settling for movies that are just fine at best? How is “A Star Is Born” one of the best-reviewed movies of the whole goddamn year?! “You’re generalizing!” I hear you shout. “I can name 50 outstanding, low-budget films made by men this year! How can you just pretend those movies don’t exist?” Take that feeling, multiply it by 500,000,000,000, and maybe you’ll start to understand how it feels to care about female-directed films.