Well, time may be a social construct, but we’ve made it to another brand new year. How did I ring in the new year? Thank you so much for asking. I was drunkenly singing the ten-minute version of Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well” in my girlfriend’s basement. It’s as shocking to me as I’m sure it is to you that I still have a girlfriend after what was surely a terrible performance.

So, it’s the first few days of 2023, and what have we learned? Not much, honestly, but that could be because I spent an entire day-and-a-half offline, so I’m sure I missed whatever inane discourse is making its way through Twitter. I’m not one for big promises for the new year or reflections of the year prior. I never have been. However, the more writing I do, the more I get asked to make lists and quantify a movie’s purpose in my life.

Lists, for the most part, are impossible and ever changing. A list depends on my mood and whether or not I’ve had a cold brew. That’s not exactly a list that I would put a lot of faith in, but it’s all I’ve got. Endlessly chronicling our lives for the sake of content and conversation. So, here is my Best List for 2022…part one. This list is my Best First Watches of 2022, but not movies that came out in 2022. I spent an entire year not rewatching a movie, so I’ve got quite a lot to choose from.

And, for the record, I have not had a cold brew today.

Shithouse

I’ve seen a lot of movies. Not as many as some, but confidently more than most. A lot of those movies are high school/college coming-of-age films because of their abundance and my semi-recent departure from that time in my own life. Shithouse, admittedly a terrible name for what is a heartfelt, heartsick love letter to loneliness, is about Alex (Cooper Raiff) struggling to fit in at college. He’s not spending his time going to the ragers you’d see in a different college movie. He’s stuck in his dorm room with a roommate (Logan Miller) who hates him because Alex cannot understand how to make himself work in this new world he’s found himself in. He’s lonely, confused, and homesick. He lives on his phone, calling his mom (Amy Landecker) and sister (Olivia Scott Welch) to pass the time and lying about the friends he’s not making. Shithouse manages to capture that specific ache of teenage freedom that feels more paralyzing than possible. Raiff, who also wrote and directed the film, is one of my favorite young filmmakers to watch and he’ll be making another appearance on part two of this list series.

Boiling Point

Single-take movies can feel gimmicky. It also becomes the sole focus of the film instead of the audience understanding why a single take was necessary for this particular story. Boiling Point is one of the few times where a single take is intrinsically necessary to the film’s success. The 92-minute movie chronicles the events of one night at an upscale London restaurant. It’s the sort of highbrow place that tweezes the food to high heaven. At the center is Andy (Stephen Graham). He’s the head chef who has far too many things on his plate and he’s continuously been dropping the ball leading up to this fateful night. The film is fast-paced, but also manages to perfectly balance the interpersonal drama that exists among employees at a restaurant. There’s the expected deep, burning hatred between back- and front-of-house, as well as moments of tenderness. After all, people get into this high level of the profession because they love food and service. It’s only when the stress and expectations begin to drown them that they’re able to realize the toll that’s being taken on their bodies.

Bull Durham

I went through an identity crisis this year in the form of loving baseball. I consumed all Prime Video’s A League of Their Own (2022) in a weekend and came out of it with a deep desire to love this sport. That’s how I became a Chicago Cubs fan who watches the games on her phone and gets live text updates. I don’t know who I am anymore. This revelation has also led me to watch a bunch of baseball movies. Mostly movies that star Kevin Costner. I think legally, in order for a film to be considered a Sports Movie™, Kevin Costner has to make an appearance. Anyway, Bull Durham is the sort of mid-level budget movie that just doesn’t get made anymore. I have no idea what the actual budget was and I’m sure the salaries for Costner and Susan Sarandon were a pretty penny, but Bull Durham just has that essence, y’know? It’s about loving baseball, and it features the best monologue of all time. It’s simple and strange and lovely. All the things you could possibly want in a movie.

Mass

Mass is one of those fascinating movies that is so deeply and profoundly uncomfortable that you never want to watch it again. It’s the type of film that just sits on your watchlist for ages because when are you ever going to be in the mood to watch a two-hour conversation between a school shooter’s parents (Reed Birney and Ann Dowd) and the parents of a victim (Jason Isaacs and Martha Plimpton). It’s just not what anyone wants to throw on the tv on any given Sunday, right? However, Mass feels like an essential watch for Americans, given the rise of school shootings. I had graduated from high school when Sandy Hook happened, so while we did have general safety drills for “an intruder,” the looming fear of a shooting was nothing like it must be for students now. Not only is Mass forever too timely, it features performances by actors at the top of their craft. It’s not a movie I can recommend in the same way I can recommend the others on this list, but it’s nevertheless important. It may sound foolish or naive, but I do believe films can help move the needle forward in terms of social issues.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

In order for a sci-fi, fantasy film to really hit home for me, I need the focus to be distinctly human. I’m simply a sucker for movies that introduce aliens or high-tech spacecraft only for the film’s thesis to be about how terribly lovely it is to be a human. That this life is doomed and ends in the same way for all of us, but we are at our best when we’re in love. Not just with another person, but with the world around us. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (the original; I don’t know who the remake is) has no business being as romantic as it is. The fear of the film comes from loses what makes us distinctly human. Our flaws, our strengths, our flimsy bodily frames. Let me die holding onto my beautiful, futile humanity.

The Clouds of Sils Maria

Earlier in the year, when I was doing monthly recaps of my favorite first watches, I described The Clouds of Sils Maria as a feature-length adaptation of Taylor Swift’s “Nothing New (featuring Phoebe Bridgers)(From the Vault)(Taylor’s Version).” That description stands. It’s also Kristen Stewart acting her ass off and proving that Twilight was the low point of her career. If I could just get on my little Kristen Stewart Soapbox here for a minute: Kristen Stewart is a Good Actor. I think it’s a very distinct skill to be able to act as though you’re not acting. Which feels counterintuitive to the concept of acting, but when I see Stewart act, it’s like I’m being a voyeur. It’s as though she has fully embodied this character for a limited period of time and I’m just spying on her. Stewart has the ability to simply exist in the film’s world and give the impression that she’s always been there. I think Dakota Johnson also has this talent, and I think people like Leonardo DiCaprio and Scarlet Johansson don’t. But, like this list, everyone’s idea of what makes a good actor is subjective, so this is all for naught. Except to say, watch The Clouds of Sils Maria.

Double Indemnity

Gosh, I simply love the idea of a man risking it all for a woman he’s known for three minutes because he thinks she’s a hottie. It’s times like those that I, as a lesbian, feel closest to a man. Look, lesbians are known for U-Hauling things right off the bat, so I can get down with a dude seeing one (1) babe’s ankle and being like, yeah, I think I could murder someone. That’s the basic plot of Double Indemnity. Other stuff actually happens and it’s the source material for the poster child of the ’80s erotic thriller Body Heat, but I do love reducing Double Indemnity to its simple core. Who among us has not wanted to commit murder to help a hot lady make off with her husband’s money, right? True equality will be when I get the queer version of this movie, and not a second before.

12 Angry Men

Man, they just don’t make ‘em like this anymore. 12 Angry Men is claustrophobic. The audience can feel the sweat on the brows of the men in the jury room. It’s a fascinating Time Capsule of an era that’s no longer. Jury rooms cannot look like this anymore, and they never should have been able to in the first place, but that was the reality. 12 Angry Men is what happens when one person speaks up for what they believe is right and shows the change that simple act can cause. That moment when one man stabs the table with his own knife is still chill-inducing after all these years. Many have tried to repeat this claustrophobic, one-room drama recipe, but few have come close to 12 Angry Men.

The Nowhere Inn

The Nowhere Inn is like if Mulholland Drive was a good movie and actually made sense. Yeah, I’ll fight David Lynch, I don’t care. There’s nothing Mulholland Drive does that The Nowhere Inn doesn’t do better. Both films are about the idea of performance and identity, but The Nowhere Inn has the added element of being a concert film for St. Vincent, aka Annie. Even if you’ve never heard a single song by St. Vincent, The Nowhere Inn is an interesting look at the life of someone who has turned their identity into a commodity. St. Vincent plays herself in what’s essentially a mockumentary, but it’s hard not to wonder if the anxieties the film pokes at are entirely fictitious. Where is the line between performance and truth? Who is St. Vincent? Who is Annie? Have they ever been the same person?

Scream

Sometimes I would like to turn my brain off and have what is colloquially called “a good time.” Strange, I know. I’d thought I’d seen Scream when I was younger, but I’d just seen it parodied so many times that I tricked myself into believing I knew how it ended. That was not the case. Scream is a blast of a ride that manages to keep viewers guessing not only as the film goes on, but as the franchise continues. Sure, some entries are better than others, but you have to admit it’s exciting to see who will put on the Ghostface mask next. It was also refreshing to watch a movie that made a point of being self-aware in a smart way. It’s becoming ever-so-frustrating that movies have shifted to desperately wanting to be meta and remind the audience of how “in” on the joke they are. It’s exhausting. If you have to keep pointing out to me that you’re making a joke, then, sorry, but your joke wasn’t good to begin with. Scream is not the first of its kind to lightly parody the genre it exemplifies, but it remains one of the best examples.

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Best of 2022 - Part One