I Watched 68 New Movies - Here are the 10 Best and Worst

Back in January, my wife and I had our third child. Young infants have no circadian rhythm which means they wake up - and want to stay up - at all hours of the day for the first couple of months. When we had our first kid, the sleep deprivation was terrible because I hadn’t figured out any coping techniques to deal with the new demands on my time and energy. But I quickly found my outlet: movies. I have a film degree and it has been very satisfying to get to binge all sorts of arthouse movies without having to compromise with anyone else. With baby #3 now sleeping through the night on a semi-regular basis, I’ve put together a summary of what I’ve watched, what I liked and what I didn’t.

First Cow - 10/10

This movie is equal parts tender and brutal. It portrays that rarest of things: a friendship between men that feels sincere and empathetic without having the characters ostentatiously assert their heterosexuality every couple of minutes. It’s also much truer to life than most period films and it gets the little details right in a consistent way that quickly sucks the viewer into the world of the story. I would have rated this an 8/10 except the ending was just incredible. This isn’t an over-the-top film. Truthfully, it’s a bit slow, but it’s worth being patient to savor it (pun intended).

The Green Knight - 10/10

Buckle up and make sure to view this on a big screen because David Lowery’s adaptation of the Arthurian legend of Sir Gawain and the green knight is equal parts fever dream and visual poetry. Also, do yourself a favor and at least read the Wikipedia article about Sir Gawain before watching — you’ll be glad you did.

Okay, now that you’re watching on a big screen and have refreshed your memory about the court of Arthur, why does this get a 10/10? The critical consensus was ambivalent here: some loved it, others hated it. And to be fair to critics, there’s a lot to hate. The story rambles a bit, our protagonist isn’t the classical good guy, and the writers have taken substantial liberties with the source material.

At the end of the day, though, I can’t help but love this, warts and all. First, it does what I love so much in the cinematic format: it uses imagery and film construction to weave additional layers of meaning over an otherwise didactic morality play. And those layers of meaning are downright beautiful to behold. And then there’s the ending. I won’t spoil it for you, but sufficed to say, viewers are empowered to read into the events of the conclusion whatever they want. It’s the best kind of conversation starter: what did it all mean?

I can’t wait to re-watch this to catch all the details I missed the first time through.

The Father - 9/10

As we live longer and more of us are confronted with the ravages of Alzheimer’s and dementia, this film feels extremely timely. While there aren’t many films that tackle this difficult topic with any seriousness, The Father stands out among the few by telling the story through the mind of the patient. That simple narrative device makes all the difference. Viewers are left with an abiding emotional understanding of what it is to have your own mind betray you. The narrative discontinuities force viewers to piece together what is and isn’t real and what appropriate reactions are given a deeply unreliable narrator. There are no good solutions and whether you judge Olivia Colman’s character or Anthony Hopkins, you end up realizing that traditional narrative evaluations of morality probably aren’t appropriate anyways. Aging, dying, and love are messy, and I came away loving, hating, and hurting for all the people portrayed.

Cold War - 9/10

I’m a sucker for black and white films. I’m also a sucker for foreign films that eschew traditional Hollywood narrative tropes. And you know, if you’re gonna make a black and white foreign film, why not double down and have it set in eastern Europe for maximum depressive effect?

Kidding aside, I loved Cold War. I didn’t necessarily love the people portrayed, but I loved the film. From a purely technical standpoint, it’s beautifully well made. The shot composition is immaculate, the framing tells us more about the story than the dialog, and the director trusts the viewer to make sense of a nonlinear story (and what love story outside of the confines of Hollywood is ever completely linear?). It isn’t redemptive or revolutionary. It won’t change your approach to love, life, and the universe. But it’s terribly sincere, compact, and well-made.

Nomadland - 9/10

I love Francis McDormand and this is, in my opinion, one of her best films. It perfectly captures the ethos of a time and place that is largely invisible to most Americans today. While we might regularly interact with the shape of these stories every time we open an Amazon package, the people behind the logistics and supply chain wizardry remain intentionally obscure. But that world is real, their loss is devastating, and the effects of those living in marginal circumstances are increasingly making their voices heard and felt. This film perfectly encapsulates a much bigger topic about mobility, wealth disparity, and dwindling opportunities in a simple down-to-earth way. The only reason it doesn’t get a 10/10 is that it’s conclusions are too bleak even for me.

Mass - 9/10

School shootings have become commonplace in America. When I was in school, the Columbine shooting made headlines and there was a decade of public hand-wringing, witch hunts, and confusion. If you had told my younger self that society would have mostly swept the issue under the rug even as it became more pervasive, I would not have believed you.

I think this is why I love this movie so much. Mass does the opposite of sweep school violence under the rug: it puts the pain, bewilderment, and fury front and center so that you cannot avert your eyes. And it is also remarkably fresh in that it tackles the part of the story that’s too sensitive for new cameras to ever capture: the personal struggles of parents seeking to find peace and move on years after the media firestorm blows over. It’s got all the tension of a modern day 12 Angry Men, but the stakes feel more immediate.

Woman at War - 9/10

I tried watching this movie a couple of years ago, but gave up just a bit too soon. This time around, I made it through the weird narrative slowdown around the 20 minute mark and made it to the awesome payoff that starts in the middle and builds until the last couple of minutes. The ending is absolute gold. Right when you are settling into the falling action, waiting for a subdued conclusion, you get one final narrative jolt of excellent, plausible, joyous fate. The quote from Variety is spot-on: this movie is nearly perfect. It’s got laughs, drama, tension, and meaningful stakes. It also has an answer for the never-ending question of personal responsibility for climate change. Where other documentaries and nonfiction books tend to end this coverage of the issue with mealy-mouthed platitudes about international cooperation and political responsibility, this movie presents one very concrete solution that individuals could undertake — even if it’s a tad bit illegal.

Quo Vadis, Aida? - 9/10

I was a bit too young to be aware of the Srebrenica massacre when it occurred in 1995. I remember my dad listening to NPR and hearing endless coverage of the issues in Bosnia, but it was practically another planet from my day to day existence. And even if I had been older, this movie would have been difficult to appreciate before I became a parent.

So often, war movies focus on heroism on the battlefield: bullets fired, trenches stormed, enemies killed. War as a human experience encapsulates those stories, but today with Ukraine under siege by Russian forces, the events depicted in Quo Vadis, Aida? are eerily prescient.

Ultimately, this is a story of loss. It documents the effort of one person to avert the end of her world and all the immediate family within it. The chilling conclusion is an unforgettable testament to the evil and resilience of humanity.

The Sound of Metal - 9/10

If you liked CODA, but you wanted less of a Young Adult treatment of deafness, loss, and integrating in a hearing world, you should take the time to watch The Sound of Metal. It’s a beautiful and realistic depiction of how our senses are integral to our personhood and what it means to suddenly and unexpectedly become someone else when one of those senses fails.

And just like CODA, the ending is amazing in large part due to the movie’s sound design choices. Both films subvert the traditional climax and resolving action of the storyline in favor of an immersive experience of otherness. It’s hard to take your hearing for granted after watching this one.

Uncut Gems - 9/10

Uncut Gems is simultaneously amazing and unbearable. As someone who is very financially conservative, I was almost incapable of watching Adam Sandler piss away opportunities for prudent gain all for the opportunity to win big. But unlike other movies in the genre (gangster films? suspense thrillers?), Uncut Gems remains grounded in reality for the entire duration of the story. There are no hero boss fights, no improbable getaways, everything feels believably twisted. I would have given this a 10/10, but the sound design is really out there and detracts from the experience. I had the same complaint about There Will Be Blood. Just because a movie has artistic aspirations, doesn’t mean the soundtrack has to hurt viewer’s ears!

The Worst 10

See above if you want to watch good movies, but it’s also valuable to avoid watching bad movies. Below are the worst of the 68 movies I watched and short explanations:

  1. The Mountain II Don’t let the IMDB rating fool you, this movie is awful. I think it’s supposed to be nuanced or something, but the writing is bad, the direction is worse, and the characters are like cardboard cutouts. I think I turned it off after less than 10 minutes. 2/10

  2. Pandorum I came for thought-provoking sci-fi mind-fucks, but instead got a worse version of Alien. I couldn’t make it past the first 15 minutes, but I did read the Wikipedia page afterwards. It has an interesting twist ending, but wow am I glad I didn’t watch the full thing. Take a warmed-over remake of Heart of Darkness, mix it with the aesthetic of the Alien franchise, and then make the screen writing and direction much worse and you have Pandorum. 3/10

  3. Who am I? Maybe I’m not the target audience, but the depiction of technology in this film was so bad I couldn’t make it through the first 10 minutes. I love Guy Fawkes masks as much as the next film buff and I’m very interested in the social ramifications of VR, online privacy erosion, etc, but this was closer to the cringey scene in NCIS (you know the one) than Ready Player One. 3/10

  4. The Great Beauty I’m not in film school anymore and I don’t have to sit through really boring arthouse movies if I don’t wanna. I’m sure there’s lots of film beauty to be had in this one, but it’s ponderous and takes itself too seriously. Snoozers. 3/10

  5. The Irishman Scorsese, please stop making the same gangster movie over and over. But if you really must, at least cast it with actors who are less than 80 years old. It’s painful to watch great actors like DeNiro be badly CGI’d into younger versions of themselves just so we can have another Goodfellas installment. The Irishman is actually so bad, it’s funny to watch because the casting and plot are so at odds with one another. If you like watching really old people pretend to hardened criminals, you might enjoy it, otherwise pass. 3/10

  6. The Worst Person in the World I agree with the title of this movie. The protagonist really is an unpleasant human and it’s unpleasant to watch her wreck her life and those around her. I get it that the main character is supposed to be a metaphor for all the modern ennui of being young and learning things the hard way, but it’s hard to feel sympathy for anyone in this movie. 3/10

  7. The Jungle Book This one actually isn’t objectively bad, I guess that I just don’t intrinsically care what happens to the little kid in the jungle. I thought maybe the new art and a modern adaptation could bridge that gap, but I was wrong. 3/10

  8. Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy You have to really know what you are doing to get the “bunch of vignettes strung together” movie thing right. This movie didn’t get it right. Also, it didn’t help that it leads with a short film that is essentially just one unbroken dialog sequence in the back of a taxi. Maybe it gets better later on, but after 20 minutes I was struggling to read the subtitles out of boredom. 3/10

  9. Drive My Car Too. Damn. Slow. There, I said it. This one is a critical darling right now and has received countless accolades, but it’s just not that interesting to watch. And at just under 3 hours of runtime, that’s a lot of uninteresting footage. The premise and conflict sound promising on paper and I generally love Japanese film aesthetics, but it’s hard to feel invested in the outcomes of a main character that has the charisma of a wet paper towel. 4/10

  10. Aniara Like Pandorum, I was hoping for some awesome hard sci-fi suspense, but it’s a deeply uninteresting watch. I think the problem is that everyone in the story doesn’t react in a realistic way to stimuli. If I was told I’d probably die of old age floating on a big spaceship instead of seeing the rest of my family tomorrow, I’m not sure I’d take that news terribly well, yet one of Aniara’s key conceits is that tens of thousands of humans are basically okay with that outcome. Maybe it’s better if you can understand the dialog without subtitles, but it fell flat for me. 4/10

The Full List

Title - My Rating

  • First Cow - 10/10

  • The Green Knight - 10/10

  • The Father - 910

  • Cold War - 9/10

  • Nomadland - 9/10

  • Mass - 9/10

  • Woman at War - 9/10

  • Quo Vadis, Aida? - 9/10

  • The Sound of Metal - 9/10

  • Uncut Gems - 9/10

  • The Mitchells vs the Machines - 9/10

  • 1917 - 8/10

  • Dune - 8/10

  • Memories of Murder - 8/10

  • Minari - 8/10

  • Promising Young Woman - 8/10

  • Never Rarely Sometimes Always - 8/10

  • The Last Duel - 8/10

  • Driveways - 8/10

  • Coherence - 8/10

  • Clara - 8/10

  • Europa Report - 8/10

  • Prospect - 8/10

  • Belfast - 8/10

  • Capernaum - 7/10

  • Your Name - 7/10

  • CODA - 7/10

  • The Gentlemen - 7/10

  • Nightcrawler - 7/10

  • A Man Called Ove - 7/10

  • C'mon C'mon - 7/10

  • The Power of the Dog - 7/10

  • The Lighthouse - 7/10

  • Nobody - 7/10

  • Don't Look Up - 7/10

  • Booksmart - 7/10

  • Bad Education - 7/10

  • The White Tiger - 7/10

  • Pig - 7/10

  • Contagion - 7/10

  • Oxygen- 7/10

  • A Hero - 7/10

  • Nightmare Alley - 7/10

  • Bacurau - 6/10

  • The Painted Bird - 6/10

  • Tenet - 6/10

  • The Lobster - 6/10

  • Shiva Baby - 6/10

  • Sunshine - 6/10

  • First Reformed - 6/10

  • Never Let Me Go - 6/10

  • Licorice Pizza - 6/10

  • The Peanut Butter Falcon - 6/10

  • King Richard - 6/10

  • The Best Offer - 5/10

  • Once Upon a Time in Hollywood - 5/10

  • Judas and the Black Messiah - 5/10

  • Super 8 - 4/10

  • Another Earth - 4/10

  • Aniara - 4/10

  • Drive My Car - 4/10

  • Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy - 4/10

  • The Jungle Book - 4/10

  • The Worst Person in the World - 3/10

  • The Irishman - 3/10

  • The Great Beauty - 3/10

  • Who am I? - 3/10

  • Pandorum -3/10

  • The Mountain II - 2/10

Homework Pass Syndrome

When I was a kid, my teachers would sometime issue slips of paper to students as a reward for good behavior. These little decorated slips entitled the owner to escape any given homework assignment. Forgot to do that worksheet? Just turn in your homework pass and you'd get a 100% for that assignment. They were the real life equivalent of a "get out of jail free" card and I coveted them. I would paper clip each homework pass into the relevant class' folder in the front as a comforting reminder that I had a safety net; a rainy day backup plan in case I played video games the night before and forgot to complete my algebra exercises.

I had a privileged childhood and was lovingly prevented from having a job or dealing with real world problems until I was in high school. Before the age of 15, school was my first and only responsibility. So homework passes were even more valuable to me than hard currency would become in late high school. Almost anyone willing to flip burgers at the local McDonalds [1] could earn $20 to spend on Friday night, but only the best students ever built up a homework pass stash. They were socially exclusive in a way that money has never managed to be.

And that's why I developed a problem.

I craved the social affirmation and feeling of freedom that homework passes granted. I was so addicted that I was almost never able to use them. Spending one meant a loss of control. The next time I forgot an assignment or needed a small grade boost, I wouldn't have that little piece of paper to protect me. I finished most classes that had homework pass systems with a neat stack of slips which immediately became useless when I switched teachers.

In college, where homework passes had been phased out, I intentionally built up relationships with my professors to ensure I'd have wiggle room if I bombed the next exam. They'd at least know I tried and cared and in a sea of uncaring undergrads, I learned that building up the reputation of being an earnest, hard working student was more valuable than any homework pass had ever been.

Around this time, I started dating the woman that eventually became my wife. On one of our early dates, I brought up my homework pass addiction. 

"You did that too?! I thought I was the only one who hoarded those things!" she exclaimed as though admitting a dark secret. I had found a kindred spirit; another soul whose desire for recognition and safety had reached a pathological level well before adulthood.

But far from being proud of our resourcefulness and hard work, Rebecca and I were ashamed of our sordid past of homework pass curation. The whole purpose of a homework pass was to reward students for good work and allow them a bit of freedom in the future. But paradoxically, the kids most likely to earn them were the least likely to use or enjoy them. During childhood, Rebecca and I had earned the right to take a night off and enjoy ourselves, yet we did the opposite: we doubled down and worked extra hard to avoid having to ever use the privilege. In the end, homework passes became like Tolkien's ring: a possession we clung to at all costs that did nothing but enslave us.

Rebecca and I eventually dubbed this behavior "Homework Pass Syndrome," and made a concerted effort to fight it.

Adults aren't given homework passes, but over-achievers find ways to unhealthily stockpile goods against some imagined future catastrophe. Most adult homework passes are monetary: we max out our 401k and IRA contributions, we obsess about our saving rate, we figure out how to retire at age 30, we build up college funds for our unborn children, we wait to buy a car until we can afford to pay all cash, and we shoot for 50% down payments on our homes. But we Homework Pass Syndrome sufferers also safeguard our future in other ways: we buy gifts for our loved ones ahead of time in case we forget later. We go to professional networking events to meet potential employers when we aren't job searching. We give talks at conferences to build up our resumes. We maintain personal websites, deepen our portfolios, and write books. We do anything we can to minimize the chances that we'll have to stoop too low when we need something from anyone else in the future. 

Society awards and applauds these sorts of behaviors, but it's toxic to get carried away in the pursuit of delayed gratification. In middle school, if a class ended and Becca or I had homework passes left over, we would just feel a bit of disappointment and move on. If we forego living our lives now to accumulate wealth or influence, we may reach old age and regret having not taken advantage of our health and youth.

As we meander our way through our 30s, we are more aware than ever how quickly life can pass us by if we don't spend the occasional homework pass, play hooky from our homework and have fun. So to those who save their marshmallows, remember that homework passes, money, and influence only contribute to your life if you're willing to spend them once in a while. To hell with your algebra homework, let's travel the world.

[1] I flipped burgers at McDonalds the summer after my senior year and learned firsthand how little was expected of fast food workers. When I left for college, I handed in 2 weeks notice and my boss laughed and said it was the first time she'd ever been told when an employee planned to leave.

Q4 Books and The 2016 Nonfiction Divide

I set quarterly goals for myself to not only write but also to read. In Q4 2021, I read 10 books (more on those below), but also crystalized a trend that I’ve been noticing for a couple of years: there is a stark difference between nonfiction published pre-2016 and afterwards. I’ve started referring to it as the Nonfiction Divide.

Before 2016 and the Trump presidency, the capitol riot, and the elections or coupes that brought populist leaders to positions of power around the world, there was a general sense in nonfiction books that the fundamentals of modern technocratic democracies were intact.

Before 2016, science didn’t need to be defended, most social problems were being solved (even if too slowly), the ‘isms were in retreat, and the future was a up-and-to-the-right line graph of progress. There was a very real sense that society in the US and abroad was leading inexorably to fantastic human achievements like discovering life on alien planets, eliminating poverty, and curing communicable diseases. You see this most in the ending sections of pre-2016 nonfiction books that deal with hard topics. It’s formulaic: authors write about a very thorny problem (racism, the history of colonialism, or contraception say) and then end their book by proposing solutions which invariably take the form of exhortations and appeals for more of what we’ve been doing: more science, more research, more education, more open-minded pursuit of truth.

Today, those appeals feel disingenuous and naïve. How can rational, intelligent authors in 2022 honestly believe that ideals like “being open” or “accepting complexity” will win the day in the face of growing polarization? I have a family member who I love and respect, but I can’t talk to about vaccines because they believe they are lethal. One of my best friends has been talking to me seriously about leaving the US out of concern for his family’s long-term safety. A couple of weeks ago, I switched to using an end to end encrypted chat service for conversations with my closest friends and family. I regularly see Tweets from people in my generation casually referring to the coming civil war in the US and a recent Harvard Youth Poll suggests that I’m not living in a bubble [source]. I’m concerned that the unvarnished things I say in those threads could be used against me by a malevolent state, company, or political group in the future. I don’t think I have subversive beliefs, but words can be dangerous.

Perhaps it’s just that I’m now a parent, but I think that the world today is objectively more threatening than it did even as little as 5 years ago and I’ve been seeking out reading materials that take that into account. (If you haven’t read them, I highly recommend How Democracies Die and Anne Applebaum’s Twilight of Democracy.) Mostly this has meant not reading books about social issues that were researched and written prior to 2016 - they no longer feel real.

With that alarming caveat out of the way, here are the best books that I read this quarter. Only a couple were written before the nonfiction divide, and I intend to be increasingly selective on that front in Q1. As always, if you have any suggestions for nonfiction books that you enjoyed, please send them my way.

★★★★★ The Genetic Lottery: Why DNA Matters for Social Equality

If you read only one book from this list, read this one. This is an incredible, even-handed, and nuanced treatment of a topic very near to my heart: genetic diversity and life outcomes. In contrast to the provocateurs like Charles Murray, Harden takes a deeply humanitarian, but scientifically rigorous look at the effect of genetics on how we all turn out. It is equally humbling and enlightening.

★★★★☆ Work: A Deep History, from the Stone Age to the Age of Robots

If you enjoyed Debt: The First 5,000 years, you’ll like this. Suzman doesn’t fall prey the lazy historical thinking about work as a specific creation of industrialization. He instead digs deeper into human history to try and pinpoint when exactly the concept of work (as distinct, say, from “surviving” or “existing”) emerged, what it meant for people then, and what it means to us today. The book is more philosophical than I expected, but it’s better for it.

★★★★☆ The Forgotten Man

I deeply enjoy reading books that update my worldview in some material way. It’s well and good to collect trivia and it’s great to read for no other reason than you like a story, but I get the biggest thrills out of reading a convincing and well-researched argument that my existing worldview is incorrect in some way, and then accepting or rejecting the argument on the merits of the facts. This is one such book. If you think you know about the depression in America, Shlaes has a different take and he does an excellent job of both telling compelling stories about real humans and diving deep into the details that support his broader arguments.

★★★★☆ In Your Defense

This one didn’t upend any of my pre-existing understandings of the world, but it was a page-turner and the stories that Langford tells are equally empathetic and factual. You feel for all of her protagonists (even the bad guys). Books like this make us all better humans by telling the stories of our fellow man in a factual, but tender way.

★★★★☆ Factfulness: Ten Reasons We're Wrong About the World - and Why Things Are Better Than You Think

This one falls prey to the nonfiction divide. It’s engaging stuff and I actually updated a bunch of world views, which was fascinating, but the end just rings hollow. Even the title seems out of step with our times. In a world killing itself with worry about fake news, it’s darkly humorous to think about any one person knowing the “important facts” of the world. As we’ve all seen recently, too many people have followed Rosling’s advice, done their own research, and ended up with far more distorted views of the world than he might have ever thought possible.

★★★☆☆ Nurture Shock: New Thinking About Children

This must have been really revolutionary to read when it was published, but time hasn’t been kind to all of Merryman and Bronson’s findings. Things like growth mindset have failed to reproduce in subsequent studies, for instance. But on the whole, it’s a good read and like many pop-sci books, it’s an easy read. I am personally really looking forward to reading Emily Oster’s new book (The Family Firm) for my next dose of data-driven parenting advice.

★★★☆☆ The Verge: Reformation, Renaissance, and Forty Years That Shook the World

Although I think some of Wyman’s arguments about the impact of this particular time period are a bit exaggerated, this is still an engaging read. I took away a profound sense of just how complicated, modern, and advanced the world of the late 15th and early 16th centuries were. In the midst of reading this book, it’s easy to forget that you’re reading about an event that occurred in 500 years ago because the characters and events are retold with such clarity and humanity.

★★★☆☆ The Sirens of Mars: Searching for Life on Another World

I was really hoping that Sarah Johnson would rock my world in the same way as Kevin Hand did in Alien Oceans. Alas, this was interesting, but not revolutionary. If you don’t know much about the history of Mars exploration, you’ll learn a bunch, but for anyone that’s interesting in space exploration and has read a couple of recent books on the topic, there isn’t a lot that’s new here.

★★★☆☆ Bargaining for Advantage: Negotiating Strategies for Reasonable People

Pretty good, although it falls into the “business book” trap of telling lots of “just so” stories that feel a bit like humble-brags by the author. I also couldn’t escape the feeling that the main points could have been more concisely encapsulated in a shorter blog post. But such is the nonfiction genre, I suppose.

★★★☆☆ The Undocumented Americans

I really enjoyed this, but I didn’t learn anything profoundly different or life-altering. It’s important and healthy to spend time in other people’s shoes, though, and Villavicencio does a great job of telling the stories of real people.