The Princess and the Goblin by George Macdonald

A lovely and simple old world fantasy that remains influential for the ways it helped establish a genre and set the stage for others to shape its landscape. It’s about characters and the paths they travel as lives intersect, offering characters who exist beyond caricatures of good and evil while existing within a world where good and evil is nevertheless a reality.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

A classic that explores the nature of identity and how it is that choices shape us, how memory shapes these choices into a narrative, and how these narratives fit in a world where choice is an illusion. It’s a deftly written critique of modernism that is steeped in spiritual concern while also reflecting a beautiful portrait of childlike quesitons meeting adult cynicism and being called back into the wonder of mystery.

The Hidden Palace by Helene Wecker

The first book explored the nature of individual human will in relationship to the creator, bringing togteher a mix of real world setting and grand mythology to ask big questions about what it is to exist in this world. This book takes the somewhat rushed conclusion of the first that in my opinion failed to capatilize on the books really strong premise and intriguing questions and catapults us straight back into the world that informed these main characters, adding some cast members, locating the story well within points of actual history and mythology as it expands such questions of the relationship between human and the divine into how this then works within the messiness of this earthly reality. It’s the stronger of the two books using its magical realism to challenge and broaden our view of reality and digging deeper into some of the allegorical subtext such as the immigration theme along with exploring the nature of the human will in relationship to the creator which is its source.

The Orchard by David Hopen

That a big part of this films story is shaped by a philosophy class at a religious school is certainly part of what made this book so cumpulsively readable to me. It’s one of the few this year that I legitimtaely could not put down. As it follows this Jewish girl from a humble, conservative family as they move to an upper class liberal Jewish community and school the book begins to unpack the kind of questions that might emerge from such a culture clash. This is simply the stepping off point for the books deep dive into the sorts of religious and philosophical challenges that inform our lives at these sorts of intersectinos between faith and doubt, demonstrating the idea of God as a persistant and intruding force that pushes back on our materialist nature. Faith and doubt are upheld as necessary parts of the process, allowing this book to really challenge our assumptions of what is true, what it means to exist, and what it means to live in relationship to an oter.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab

Does a life still have meaning if it is forgotten? This existential concern informs this narrative which sees its central character spanning the normal constricting boundaries of space and time in search of an answer. This question has been asked many times over in numerous likeminded stories of course, but the premise does contain an edge of uniqueness as it weighs the balance of our finiteness with the notion of immortality. Full points to the book for restisting oft temptations to sentimentalize the struggle by romanticizing death and the idea of our finiteness in less than honest ways- this idea that we will be forgotten poses real challenges to how we see and experience life. It takes the struggle seriously while never deviating into easy answers, instead carrying the tension forward into an exploration of its possibiilties, consistently trying to point us outwards beyond ourselves in order to offer us greater perspective on those deepest struggles and unquenched longings.

Flora and Ulysses by Kate DiCamillo

I fell in love with this book the minute I picked it up with its deeply formed philsophical and spiritual interest wrapped up in a childrens story about recovering wonder and mystery in our lives. That this comes through the relationship between a girl and a super hero squirrel makes it that much more profound.

The Winter People by Jennifer McMahon

McMahon shows a real handle on the horror genre, employing a deliberate pacing and a compelling backstory to draw out the growing terror of the mystery. There is a necessary moral and emotional core that is waiting to be teased out as well, and McMahon uses the final third of the book to bring this to surface. It’s a bit expositional at this point, but it fits with the developed characters in a way that makes their collective experiences and their journies extremely worthwhile.

The Never Ending Story by Michael Ende

The film was an important one from my childhood. I never knew it was based on a book until recently, and so I was super excited to check this one out. I was blown away by how much more the source material breaks open this world and the ideas contained with it that we find in the film. The film is still perfect in its own way in my opinion, but the experience of reading the book takes the questions and wraps them up in a journey worthy of an epic, delving deep into the darkness in order to recover the light and accentuating this sense of childhood wonder set alonsgsde our adult cynicism.

Faye, Faraway by Helen Fisher

It is a bit heavy on the exposition but what I love about the story, and what made it a book I had a hard time putting down, was its sense of heart, its sense of adventure, and the way the author uses these two things to bring us in on a story that is as embedded in the real world struggle and experience of its characters as it is in the creative and poetic interest of the working metaphor about the intersection of spiritual revelation. Even if it stumbles a bit getting there, the way the author structures the story and brings the different threads together was quite brilliant and exciting. I probably could have guessed some of the twists if I had thought about it hard enough, but I was too busy enjoying the ride to really care to think about it. So it actually caught me by surprise. This is a book that if you go in cold you will likely get the most from it, because its a bit unconventional, even if it is in a slightly conventional way. Its the unconventional parts that play the biggest role in the books success. Simply go in expecting a bit of magic and wonder, some real struggle and doubt, some family dynamics, a tightly focused personal story, and a working mystery that will take you as a reader on an unexpected journey into the souls longing to be made whole.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

Took me back to being tweleve and absorbing books like The Westing Game, an apt comparison. Its a quick and breezy, hard to put down read with memorable characters that more than make up for any possible over wrought elements some might find in the films theoretically rich premise. Its a story you are simply meant to go with and let take you into its relatable and grounded yet imaginative world. And if you do find yourself quibbling with the theoretical elements (in a “its trying to be too smart for its own good” kind of way… similar I suppose to the way people quibble with Christopher Nolan films), be assured that the book is self aware enough to write that conflict straight into the story. Checked off a number of boxes for me when it comes to personal loves.

Born To Battle by D.A. Stewart

This was recommended to me by someone who knew I loved Stephen Lawhead (my favorite author), and I was privileged enough for the author to have caught wind of this and send me an advanced copy to review. As a fan of Lawhead I loved it. It tells the story of Saint Illtyd, the 6th century abbot teacher from the Wales village Llanilltud Fawr. Author D.A. Stewart leads us into his story by way of famed historian Gildas, who pens, recounts and then retells Illtyd’s story to us in the form of the pages of this book. As it is with Celtic history, the world Illtyd inhabits is vast, full of unrest and filled with stories of warrior peoples, tales and adventures. This is one story that stands important in history for founding one of the ealiest centres for learning, and as Stewart underscores in his wonderfully researrched take on the legend, this notion of school and learning plays a vital role in his own journey. Gildas actually emerges from this place of learning.

One of the things I noted early on this book is how author D.A. Stewart makes the choice to take what is a broad story and narrow the focus to the intimacy of Illtyd’s personal journey. This is unusual in this field and genre, as typically these stories have a sprawling presence that intersects with the activity of all the people groups that intersect with these particular stories in different ways. Stewart writes a story that is linear, concise, simple and fluid, making this small in scope by very easy to read. The stuff that surrounds Illtyd’s story stays generally out of sight and on the periphery’s, realities that are alluded to but which don’t clutter the story. I imagine the mileage will vary on this approach. I would say it bears out much reward in the first half, and it’s when we start into the final third that the lack of scope threatens to hold this back, if only slightly. If you are someone craving the big battles, the massive stakes, and building depictions of a world far removed and yet rich in intrigue, you might find this element of the book frustrating. For myself it was actually the element of the story I appreciated the most. I’ve read enough books in this genre to know that the world building often takes center stage. Stewart’s take represents a fresh approach with its emphasis on character and their spiritual and deeply human journey and it resonated for me personally.

Beautiful Joes Paradise by Marshall Saunders

What a pleasant surprise to hear that a childhood favorite has a beloved sequel. I reread Beautiful Joe, which reminded me of why that book was so forming for me growing up. This book uses the character of Joe to imagine the creatures of this world as part of the life that is bing restored, using Joe as our guide through the new creation world and the new cast of characters as a way of commenting on the ongoing battle between the cruelties of nature and the redmptive possibilities of a true nature emerging through the use of what is a Christian imagination (to borrow from Lewis). A wonderful treat and a real blessing

My Most Important Reads of 2021:

#1- History and Eschatology: Jesus and the Promise of Natural Theology by N.T. Wright

It’s no secret that Wright has been a formative voice in my life. This is one of a handful of new books released in the last year or two, a few of which could be included in this list (I haven’t finished the dense and richly rewarding new entry in his grand trilogy, The New Testament in its World, but his new commentary on Galatians, along with its mix of academic and pastoral concern, functions as a wonderful summary of some of his big ideas). It is based on his collection of Gifford Lectures which are available via podcast and at its heart is an appeal to Christians to reclaim the long neglected role of history within the larger field of theological study and scholarship. Not unlike common resistance to philosophy, this resistance to history, or the proper discipline of good history, has led to problematic theology and dangerous cultural expression, and reclaiming history as a discipline that functions in relationship to theology can help us gain a clearer sense of this trajectory.

Of particular concern is the recovering of the promise of “natural theology”. If history is predicated on understanding how it is that God dwells within the created order, and the ensuing struggles that come with this, a neglect of natural theology, which comes in our resistance to history, forces us to then relegate God as an entity that exists somewhere “out there”, a thread of history that binds concerns for locating Jesus within history itself. What natural theology does is it allows us to reframe our questions in the way of the historical text so as to allow it to challenge our present assumptions in a more properly re-contextualized sense, awakening us to this idea of the marriage of heaven and earth in a historical and eschatological sense, and likewise to the goodness of the created order and the call to participate within it.

I do imagine that skeptics of Wright’s ability to operate as both a historian and a theologian effectively, which ironically frames pushback on either side of the divide between religious and non-religious, might leave some resistant to Wrights conclusions (which includes the initial frame of thought that would become his book Broken Signposts, the idea that intuition locates things like love, beauty and goodness in this world while also intuitively recognizing that these things are not quite as they should be in their fullness… the question then being how does an eschatological hope shape this reality in a particular way). That is unfortunately part of the fallout of a world raised to see these disciplines as incompatible. Wright does retain a certain skepticism towards particular claims of modernity as the answer to the historical witness, and to be fair he does retain a bit of an old fashioned appeal. That is part of what endears me to his work to be honest. But I think he fairly articulates and demonstrates with intellectual vigor how modernity demonstrates itself as the cyclical process of history, claiming nothing new nor revolutionary in terms of its central questions and certainly it’s navigating of religious identity and truths. He astutely reflects on a time in history that has been uniquely shaped by and which continues to exist in the shadow of the Holocaust; a piece of history which also perhaps stands in danger of being forgotten by consecutive generations. In many ways this has become the newest measure of moral concern; as long as we aren’t “that” then we are on the “right side of history”, a phrase he deftly takes to task and deconstructs). This is of course where history becomes vital and necessary, especially when it comes to locating Jesus within this history.

To be clear, this book is not an apologetic. It is an academic treaties that wrestles with natural theology as necessary for understanding and expressing Christian beliefs about this world. It just might be my new favorite book by him towards this end, and for me I found it illuminating, entertaining and inspiring.

I wrote some reflections on Encanto in relationship with Advent. It’s found here at the Fear of God:

https://www.thefearofgodpodcast.com/blog/holdingcourtencanto

My Most Important Reads of 2021:

#2- Irrationality: A History of the Dark Side of Reason by Justin E. H. Smith

Without a doubt the book I have recommended and cited the most in 2021. The brilliance of its central thesis is the way it operates as a foundation through which to engage all else in this complicated world. With a demonstrable understanding of history and an ongoing engagement with philosophy Smith suggests that one of the grand failures of the age of reason is its hard headed resistance to irrationality. By ignoring the fact that we all rely on irrational premises in order to reason well we actually end up becoming more irrational in our thinking and our actions. Not to mention inevitably divided and resistant to reason. This simple truth underlays our biggest problems, our biggest disputes, our adherence to binaries and polarities, and our ignorance.

I might be overplaying just how accessible this book is in my enthusiastic endorsement of it. I suppose that happens when a book you love happened to be transformative. You want to get it’s ideas into the hands of others regardless of how well it sells. Its not the easiest read and it does demand your attention, but for me it remains profoundly simple in its application. We need not fear irrationality. It is part of how we make sense of and find meaning in this world. Irrational beliefs don’t make us less reasoned people. That is the lie of the enlightenment project. It in fact helps make us more reasoned people togther. To ignore this is to play into the destructiveness of our appeals to reason that we find leaving it’s mark throughout modern history, where reason becomes associated with power, status and exclusivity, hallmarks of the kind of subtle and deceptive anti- intellectualism that has gradually creeped its way into modern secular society, and by nature of its assimilation and association, religious society.

There is another word that aptly sums this up- humility. A lost virtue in what might be the least reasoned society in all of history. As a sidenote, just look at the recent release of Don’t Look Up for a perfect example of this cultural force in play. A film that encourages the dark side of reason by empowering us with a sense that we are the only ones in the room who know the truth and everyone else is the ignorant fool. It’s no surprise that, in the American landscape anyways, you will find Trumpists and Leftists equally claiming the other is the butt of this films satire and that they are the ones with exclusive access to the truth. That’s precisely how the dark side of reason works, leaving us as divided and immune to rationalism as ever.

This is a piece I wrote on The French Dispatch in convsersation with the book and the online movement Accidentally Wes Anderson. It is posted on the Fear of God Website here:

https://www.thefearofgodpodcast.com/blog/holdingcourtthefrenchdispatch

My Top 10 Most Important Reads in 2021:

#3- Work: A Deep History, from the Stone Age to the Age of Robots by James Suzman

If you’ve ever wondered about how it is that our society with its 5 day work week and economic/social expectations came to be this is a wonderful book that tracks the history from the Stone age to an educated guess on an imagined future. History gives context and the context raises questions you might have and never ever realized you had.

More than this though this book hit on some interesting philopshical concerns when it comes to seeing this history as a bit of a complicated beast. For me it actually completely reoriented my sense of how and why we work and what work means. One point of perspective that I found especially interesting was Suzmans interest in the discovery of fire as the key transitional point in moving from a view of abundance to the dominant view of scarcity, transforming our relationship to work in ways that life, in its largest sense, had never known before. Whereas our relationship to work before this was determined by an equation of energy taken and energy given, the discovery of fire was the first time life outsourced that energy to something external to itself. This was of course a precursor to the industrial and technological revolutions where out sourcing our spent energy to something external to oursleves has become a mark of humanity’s progress. How we parse through this complicated reality is part of what this book sets out to do.

These historical and evolutionary/adaptive truths are intricately tied then to how we understand the development of human societies with our relationship to work remaining a key part of this equation. This means that understanding what work is and why we work is crucial to our understanding of larger systemic and social realities. This book offers a way into those conversations from a unique angle. For me it also turned me inwards forcing me to ask hard questions of myself as well, especially when it comes to how I operate, even if subconsciously, according to a rule of scarcity rather than abundance, and also in terms of how difficult it actually is to reform ones relationship to work in a society where a particular view of work is so integrated and bound to life itself. Living differently and making changes comes with all sorts of challenges and risks and obstacles.

In any case, this has probably been my 2nd most cited book of 2021 and I’ve found myself talking about its ideas quite a bit, which makes it an easy pick for this slot.

My Top Most Important Reads of 2021:

#4 The Mysteries of Cinema: Movies and Imagination by Peter Conrad

Similar to Dave Grohl in his new autobiography (highly recommended as well), where he describes his music as worship, playing shows as his spiritual experience, and the auditoriums as his cathedrals, I often cite the theater as my Church, the space where I am invited to think about and experience the transcendent and the place where I find community. Anyone who knows me knows that this is why I speak as a broken record when it comes to discussion of film and the importance of theater. In many ways theater has gone the way of so many things these days, including popular iterations of church, being more about modern conveniences, big lights, performance based experiences that cater to entertainment rather than forming an expectation of transformation. That isn’t an argument for anything, rather it’s an expression of my own experience. It’s no wonder that many people don’t think it’s important or necessary any more and have detached the experience of film from that sense of place and togetherness, instead appealing to personal preference.

When I speak about the subject what is behind that for me is a deeply felt sense of loss in my own life, even though theaters at this point still remain open. It’s a process of thinking about my own formative experiences growing up and heading out the large, grand palaces that demanded that upward, transcendent gaze simply by being present. It’s a process of trying to reconcile that with the present day and contending with things that feel like they challenge something I consider to be sacred and communal. Similar to my church going experience i suppose, where I left the big church and pursued a more liturgically based practice connected to that sense of history and tangible, physical space, I continually long to locate that in my movie watching practice.

Which is partly what I so appreciate about this book. It tells the story of cinema from the perspective of its religious type experience, using the template and story of religion to help illuminate what this means and why this is in a historical sense. It sees film as primarily an exercise of the imagination that helps to invoke in us a sense of wonder and awareness for truth and life with an eye towards its transformative potential. It sees in film things like the potential for worship, for community, for the sacred experience, appling this in a broader sense beyond just the religious but using religious language in the same way the tradition of cinema always has. It’s a powerful and informing book, and also an immersive one in how it opens the reader up to a greater love for the artform.

My Top Most Important Reads in 2021:

#5- 21 Lessons for The 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harari

“In a world deluged by irrelevant information, clarity is power.”

This statement which opens Harari’s third book in what is a trilogy exploring the past (Sapiens), future (Homos Deus) and now the present of humanity, captures the spirit in which he writes. Harari is clear that he believes time is ticking on humanities ability to control the narrative, and spends much time articulating how narrative is key for how we do history rightly or wrongly, because whether we recognize it or not we all have a narrative we hold to and which we assume and project into our understanding of truths relating to historicity. From narrative comes clarity and potential.

His essential argument in this final book focused on the present state of the human species revolves around the cautionary and prophetic message that In the near future, if not already, humanities power to dictate the direction of this narrative, especially when it comes to ethics, may or likely will be given over to the very power of the technology and systems we have created. When system is married to technology the narrative of our evolutionary story changes exponentially, giving the technology an agency unparalleled in human history. The irony of this being that it is because we see this technology as a symbol of humanities inherent exceptionalism that we remain largely unaware of the right questions to ask. In short, for the first time in history technology has far outpaced our ability to formulate these advances and changes in a way that that aids human activity. Instead human activity consistently caters to technological changes.

At one point the author points out that we’ve spent the whole of human history sitting around debating about life’s meaning, and we no longer have that luxury. We need to get past these arguments and get on with what really matters- regaining control of the world.

Why this is one of the most important books of 2021 for me is not so much because I agree with his conclusions; truth be told I depart with him on that front, it’s because I think the data and thoughts contained in this trilogy, and which this book effectively demonstrates, presents the most compelling argument for where we are and how we got here and what we must do in response that I have found to date. There’s no question that Harari has strong feelings about religion, and when he gets caught up in these biases the book and his arguments are at their weakest and least compelling. But the information that surrounds this I think makes a really strong case for the truth of reality as we know it and what these current realities are. For me his exposition uncovers the most logical way to live with these challenges with of course a strong eye on the future. I am convinced that if I didn’t hold to faith Harari’s assessment of reality remains most likely to be true. As a person of faith his assessment of reality also explains, at least in part, why it is that I believe in God.

I think one interesting thing about Harari is that what he has to say directly challenges so much about the ways in which non-religious thought often makes certain assumptions about reality that don’t reflect the way it actually is. I see this happen all the time in conversation. His deconstruction of free will, his assessment of nationalism, his appeal to materialism, his acknowledgement of narratives as illusions, his interpretation of our relationship to technology, these are all things that smart minds might acknowledge but rarely allow to actually inform the truth precisely because of where it seems to lead. This is where he challenges this tendency by exposing logical inconsistencies. The way he exposes the degree to which much of the laws of nature bleed through so many of the areas we generally apply freely to morals and ethics, and the acceptance that this is okay and even necessary when taken in the bigger picture, contradicts many of the most popular assessments of reality on the surface. It is the way that he makes a case for these things that makes it so compelling, even if it leaves us uncomfortable. And if you are a person of faith, so much of this intersects with the the stuff of life that religion tends to inform and reform, thus reading this can help clarify some of the uncomfortable realities about life and humanity that cause many of us to question and desire to confront and address.

A few years ago I began a New Years Resolution Plan called Rosebud. I heard about it on one of the travel podcasts that I follow. The process essentially looks like this:
Step 1: List Three Roses-
This is the stuff that I would consider the greatest strengths, successes or accomplishments of the past year, the stuff that has managed to blossom into a Rose.
Step 2: List One Thorn
This would reflect my greatest personal struggle of the past year.
Step 3: List Three Buds
Based on my “thorn”, this is a list of what I would like to “bud” into potential Roses in the coming year.
Step 4: Come up with a word for the year
This should be a single word that can help reflect the direction I want to head in the coming year, a single word that can give my year a theme or a recognizable focus and narrative.

So, why Rosebud?
I have been asked in the past, why three Roses but only one Thorn? Most of us don’t realize it, but it is often much more diffciult to come up with roses than it is thorns. Also difficult is learning how to speak about thorns in a way that imagines forward movement, seeing it in light of one’s potential for growth. It’s kind of like that old piece of advice that says when you are in an interview for a new job and they ask you about your weaknesses, always give a weakness that you can do something about.

The great part of the Rosebud system is that it allows one to document their struggles and their growth year by year as a kind of working and interactive diary. You can build on the previous year and form an ongoing narrative out of the successes, struggles and hopes. This is not about resolutions persay, at least not in the traditional sense, it is about making space for introspection and observation and forming that into perspective and potential. And it allows one to not just make goals, but to examine what those goals are actual about, the why of our goals.
With that in mind…

LOOKING BACK ON MY THREE POTENTIAL BUDS IN 2021

Heading into 2021 I had noted that my one thorn was this constant feeling of being defeated. There were multiple reasons for why I felt this way, and my three buds, my three hopeful observations, seems to have been interested and in redirecting and redefining my focus. At the time I had rebranded my website to intentionally move from a narrowed space (wrestling with turning 40 by looking at the story of my ilfe) and move into a more positivist focus to reflecting on the stories within my life, be it experiences, books, film, encounters, memories ect. This rebranding came with an upgrade to this site that allowed me to get rid of the ads and utilize my own domain.

I do think this rebranded focus has brought positive change, including more writing and more interaction with others through that writing. One change in 2021 that I think came from this rebranded focus was an invitation to join the team at one of my favorite podcasts, The Fear of God. I was asked to come on and contribute, along with being the odd podcast guest, biweekly articles that reflect on what I’ve been reading, watching and listening to. it has been an opportunity to sharpen some of my writing and my attention. It has stolen some time from this space of course, but i think that has proved a worthwhile exchange.

As part of my buds for 2021 i wanted to take better control of my presence on social media, as it was occupying much of my time and not resulting in much that was positive. I attempted to scale back on my reactionary participation, focus more on groups that I found fruitful and edifying, and stay consistent in my own feed. I wasn’t interested in unplugging entirely, but i was interested in utilizing it differently. This is na area I saw progress in, particularly in the early going, and yet i also have a long ways to go.

I had noted leading in to my 2021 Roses, Thorn and Buds the record breaking year I had in 2020 for film and books. That was part of my 2020 hopefuls so it was by design, but with this refocusing and redirecting anticipated dialing that back. This proved to be an epic fail. I broke my 2020 record for both film and books, and by a consideral amount. The strange thing being that i did so without really monitoring it or paying attention to it until December. My free time and space was intended to be spent on giving time to a personal research project on the subject of memory. i made some headway, but that is something i would really like to get back on track with in 2022.

My presonal word for 2021 was “story”, which was meant to capture my rebranded blog focus, my research project, and those attempts to redirect and refocus on something intentional.

ROSEBUD 2021

Three Roses:

1. Research Project/Book

I Started my research project/book but fell off the wagon with it so to speak. Still, noting the progress that I did manage to achieve feels as good a place to start with identifying a rose fom 2021.

2. The Fear of God

Although this speaks mostly to the privilege of being asked and being givent the opportunity, coming on staff for The Fear of God was a highlight of 2021 and something I consider a rose if simply for represnting a commitment to staying on task and sharpening my writing process.

3. Buddy

As 2021 would have it we stumbled, through the apparent determination of my wife, on a new pup named Buddy (appopriately for our favorite film Elf). I see this as a rose more for what it imposes on my life, which is the opportunity to give myself to one who needs care, compassion and love as part of our found family. I see those as positive additions to the mix in 2021.

One Thorn:

Avoidance. This feels perhaps ambiguous, and it kind of is in my own head. But it also feels right on a number of levels. There are a number of areas, however undefined, that feel like if they are to bud they first need to be acknowledged. Setting out to figure out precisely what that is and means is a place to begin, but that means acknowledging the thorn.

Three Buds

1. Reinvest in relationships at home

I suppose this goes hand in hand with our welcome addition of Buddy, but it feels like things at home, which I think we would all agree if we are being honest, have been caught up in a diffcult space as of late. A little bit of apathy, depression, aimlesslessness, wrestling with addictions, being caught up in less than helpful routines. Getting out of the slump likely begins with doing it together, which means beginning with each other.

2. Take my record breaking year in film and books and funnel that time into greater investments

What do I mean by investments? Perhaps more intentionality, although I haven’t quite whittled that down yet. Certainly more opporunity for phyisical relationship. More honed reflection. I imagine this will need some dicipline and a paring back of the numbers, which would be totally fine. I think using my love of film to expand my horizons and get a little more creative, less adhered to content and more focused on the substance, will be something I can work through this year.

3. Make progress on my book

Given that I fell off the wagon this feels as necessary as anything. Definitely something I can get back on track.

My Word For the Year: Process

A word on lists before I get to my top films of 2021. First, as is often the case wrestling these films down into a list was difficult. There is an argument to made that “lists” aren’t the best way to represent a year as these numbered spots are fluid and hardly static when set into conversation.

And yet it would be difficult to find a different system to effectively help shed light on these films. Numbers seem to catch our attention, and based on a long process of reflecting and engaging the titles that stood out for me for any number of reasons in 2021, it is at least fair to say that the titles represented on my list are ones I hope to draw attention to in this present space and time. Also, my personal paramaters, which does not include non-narrative (documentaries.. see part 1 for those) films, consider any film that got a wide release in 2021 as eligible for conversation with the exception of those represented at the Oscars. So Nomadland, Judas and the Back Messiah, among a few others, although getting wide release in 2021 are not represetned. At the same time a number of notable 2021 releases that have made numerous top of lists are not included simpy on the basis that I haven’t bene able to see them. Those include Drive My Car, Red Rocket, Flee, Mass, and the Tragedy of Macbeth.

One last word as well. I wrote earlier about certain themes that emerged from this years slate of films for me personally. A big part of this year has been the reopening of theaters. Little more has tapped into the joy of cinema for me than this. It helped revive a challenging first quarter and reignite why film matters and why its such an important voice in my life. Most of my picks represented tap into that cinematic expression, representing both the narrative and form, and truth be told I’ve been soaking in a ridiculously packed theater slate due to carry overs fromt the pandemic that is bound to disipate. So I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

With that in mind, here is my top 20 list for 2021, which is out of 254 2021 releases viewed:

Honorable Mention: The Klling of Two Lovers

20. Dune

19. Coda

18. The Eyes of Tammy Faye

17. Identifying Features

16. Pig

15. The Last Duel

14. Dear Comrades

13. The Matrix: Resurrections

12. About Endlessness

11. Spencer

10. Last Night in Soho

Edgar Wright’s much anticipated horror film Last Night in Soho is a true celebration of style, substance and form. Brimming with character, it bleeds a welcome sense of nostalgia, moving us through the streets of Soho like a place caught in time and with important and necessary stories to tell. The film features complimentary performances by the eclectic and seasoned actresses Thomasin McKenzie and Anya Taylor-Joy, and explorse important themes when it comes to how it is that we wrestle with nostalgia and the past, especially when it comes to locating the struggles women face in the here to live as liberated persons

9. The Card Counter

Sitting in the movie theater in the empty space that precedes the closing credits of First Reform and hearing someone say, “What the “f” was that” is still one of my favorite movie going experiences. Not because I felt smug in my appreciation of what I would call high art, or transcendental cinema, but rather over the fact that a film that that could elict such a strong reaction. First Reformed is, admittedly, a tough watch. It is also proof of the ways in which film can challenge us to think and see outside of the box.

The good news is, for those who might be leary of Schrader’s particular style and voice is that The Card Counter is a considerately more accessible film. At least part of the reason for this is the difference between Oscar Isaac’s grounded ex-con persona and Hawke’s evocative an highly pastoral take on existential angst. Even before we get to the beautifully shot but unsettled ending of First Reformed Hawke’s enigmatic peformance is clouded in mistique and strangeness, whereas in the Card Counter we get a shell that is fairly easy to understand and grasp before Schrader breaks it, digs underneath, and attempts to piece it back together. There are so many aspects of this film that deserve ones attention, structurally, thematically, visually, audibly. The way Schrader draws this out as a litany (or liturgy) of scenes, all of which feel slightly disparate but which also experience this inevitable pull towards something shared, even if that something feels slightly out of reach for most of this film. We get these notes, these moments where a tidbit of information or a small reveal breaks through as a kind of revelatory process, forming the narrative out of what are largely conversational bits between these characters.

Forgiveness comes into play here, with the question of the difference between forgiveness of one’s self and recieving forgiveness from another becoming an important part of the films larger exploration of guilt and innocence. It is posited that we do not speak of good and bad apples, rather it is a question of whether the barrel itself is bad. This notion of childlike innocence is referenced a few times during the film, most directly twice, and in both of those cases alluding to the freedom to love and to be loved. Where this ebbs and flows between the neglect of childlike tendencies (as in we must learn to be more mature), and childlike aspirations (as in, we must learn to cater to those childish aspects if we are to mature) is a feature of this film that excited me quite a bit. I loved how it uses this to play into the larger theme of forgiveness and love, and also how it plays into this tension of that tipping point. Much of the richness of the story plays from this, including the film’s startling and iconic final scene, a scene that reaches for something truly transcendent amidst the very real questions it holds in play.

8. Riders of Justice

Daring twists and turns and misdirections that lead you through a gammot of emotions. Sharp left turns into timely humor give way to philosohpical and existential wonderings before steering us straight into the fire of its thriller based action. That it’s such a deeply felt character drama with a truly excellent ensemble piece is due to the compassionate and excellently crafted direction and a knock out role for Mads. Can’t sing high enough praise for this one. All the feels.

7. The Green Knight

A uniqe take on an old Aurthurian poem by a master filmmaker, with the interpretive take asking big and bold questions about what it means to be a man, shaped as this question is by the grand mix of myth and history with its images of heros and legends, even going so far as to wonder, if I may borrow from a favorite critic Josh Larson, whether this is a question we should still be asking at all. The film also explores the relationship between myth and history, using the religious parallel to dig deep into an exposition of where precisely our humanity intersects. A powerful film that I imagine will only grow in my imagination with time.

6. C’mon C’mon

Few films have resonated with me in 2021 in the way this one did, evoking as it does an exploration of perspective, moving between that of a child and its adult protagonist in a one two punch of the best performances of the year. The motif if the still image paired with the preserving of memory and the forming of meaningful narrative plays large here, and the relationship dynamic, built as it is on found family, reaches beyond the typical parent-child relationship in order to challenge our vision of precisely where the lines between family and friedshipmeet across these generational lines. A genuine celebration of life and wonder found in the midst of real struggle and pain.

5. The French Dispatch

I truly believe this is one of Anderson’s best works, and yet it’s hard to measure this against his previous efforts because it also feels very different, at least experientially. The emotional breadth of his style and design is more clearly on display elsewhere, which I think might make some of his other films more immediately accessible given the degree to which The French Dispatch requires you to give yourself over to the experience itself. But its also true to say that emotional breadth has never been given a more intricately crafted and expertly built frame to exist within, which is truly this films crowning jewel as it navigates the binaries of our existence using working motifs of light and dark, good and evil, isolation and relationship, art and viewer, life and death. From this is locates startling and striking images that then motivate us towards images of the good, the community, the light, the life and the celebration of art.

4. Belfast

This crowd.pleasing, one of a kind family drama is one of the Directors best works, taking a heartfelt and compassionate approach to a deeply personal subject- family and home, and more specifically that of Ireland and its people.

The film features some exquisite framing that works with the constantly shifting camera work. There are times where it feels we are watching an elaborately screened stage production, complete with entrances and exits and choreographed to precision. There are other times where it immerses us in a dramatic sequence, with the artists imagination drawing us in through the creativity of the visusla. Still other shots settle on a specific scene, or it employs a static positioning, gradually revealing the details in the periphery that lie just outside our line of sight. Taken all together it’s a marvelous tapestry that functions as a perfect marriage with the films astute use of pacing and editing. It might be first and foremost a love letter to Ireland, but in offering us such stark and deliberate images of two sides divided it is able to center us on these brief glimpses of a more universal story of struggle and hope, reminding us of what is most important in living together.

3. Nine Days

This is a high concept film filled with existential concerns for life and its marriage to suffering. Following a lone arbitor who has the lengthy task of interviewing souls for the potential occupying of a vacant life on earth, a process that takes nine days to conclude, the film digs deep into that central tension- is the chance at living truly worth the potentoal suffering, and what do we do with life when it appears that the bad far outweighs the good. In the scope of the film, memory becomes crucial to gaining a helpful point of perspective pointing us to evidence of a central human longing that is embedded within our spirits, something we can’t always understand but something that continually has the power to point beyond us and our present experiences, beyond oursleves to a transcendent Truth, a grander narrative that enfolds this existence. A Truth that doesn’t deny or ignore the tension of existing in the struggle but which looks to speak to it in ways that can inform and contextualize, in ways that feel intuitively aware of what is not right and what we hope will be made right. That our ability to lay claim to beauty is not contingent on the trajectory of our indivdiual lives or the success of a small portion of humanity is, for me, a liberating thought waiting to break into and shed light on this films concluding image, wich is the most memorabe image of 2021 for me personally.

2. Licorice Pizza

As PTA is bound to, he manages again to take the unsettled space of these complicated character dynamics and turn into something completely captivating. It always seems so odd to me that his films can seem so simple and yet they are most decidedly not. In this case he revisits the unconventional love story setting them in an era (the gloriously reconstructed 1970s Hollywood backdrop) that he is clearly quite familiar with and thinks fondly of, and uses it to pull out subtle commentaries about race and gender relations and the tension that exists between nostalgia and reality. As he navigates this he gently pulls from this the true and pure innocence of the story using the oviously uncomfortable nature of the age gap between this 15 year old boy and a 25 year old woman. The 15 year old boy who acts like he is 25 and the 25 year old woman who struggles with the weight of maturity and its expectation of a life meet in this back and forth push and pull between the two, with these cyclical sequences subtly presenting us with a gradually emerging character and thematic arc. That this age difference disappears into the carefree nature of this relationship and its undeniable innocence once again tumbles us straight back into that existing tension between nostalgia and reality, this time with fresh perspective and a fresh lust for life and love in its purest and untainted form.

1. The Humans

The film belongs with the likes of The Big Kahuna or The Sunset Limited. It’s based on a play and the single location shoot revolves around a script that delves into matters of existential concern spanning life, family, relationship, circumstance, religion, forgivness, restitution, and hidden secrets coming to the surface. The film is beautifully shot, and the script exceptionally written, and the performances perfectly capture the full breadth of these themes as they struggle through this self contained holiday gathering. Viewer beware, this lays all the messiness of family gatherings to bare and thus should come with a serious trigger warning.

What the film does with these family dynamics is where the sharpness of its vision gets fully articulated. It encases it as a gradually emerging nightmare, with the momentary feelings of necessary escape being bound to the kind of expectaitons such gatherings entail. The problem is the more we coexist within this space the more the unspoken tensions, stifled as we try to keep them, bubble up to the surface, leaving these family gatherings as an inevitable process of laying the dirty laundry on the table. In some ways this is the necessary therapeutic process, the thing that enables us to return to this space again and again despite its potential for dysfunction and horror. For it to remain stifled is to have nowhere to go but into our isolation. And yet the irony of this, something this film captures in its essence, is that this cast of familial relations are perhaps never more aware of this feeling of isolation than when they get together. This, it seems, is the conundrum of this necessary coexistence.

The definite horror notes then breathe through the narrative with an inspired sense of awareness of this dillema, using it as a way to visually represent the common experience. And yet, what undercuts this are silent moments of beauty and assurance, this unspoken word that seems to leave us with the conviction that despite its dysfunction family, that connection and togetherness, is necessary.