Top Ten Films Of 2015

The Top Ten Films of 2015 as chosen by Captain Raptor (Jake Boyle)

Well, my friends, it has been a hell of a ride. Not just this year, but this entire venture. Sorry-not-sorry for not posting anything for four months, but all good things (or average, at least? Come on, give me something) must come to an end, and I'd hate to leave without saying goodbye. So, one final outing before we put this silly moniker to bed, and then onto (hopefully) better things.

The rules, as always - the eligibility of a film is based on the date of its countrywide release date in the UK, and, as obvious at it should seem, this is based entirely on personal preference than any notion of objective artistic achievement, which serves as a nice excuse for what's actually something of a tame, uncontroversial selection of films. Without much further ado:

10. Star Wars: The Force Awakens - I spent several years predicting that this movie would be poor, or even catastrophically bad. I couldn't be happier to be wrong. A charismatic cast of fresh faces combined with all those fabled aspects of the beloved originals to create what felt like a tribute of Tenacious D proportions - a loving homage to one of cinema's greatest legends that reinterprets the magic of old in a manner both nostalgic and reinvigorated.

9. Mad Max: Fury Road - An even greater awakening of an old franchise. George Miller's commitment to full-on lunacy feels as pure and joyous as it's possible for any action movie to be. The stunts were genuinely breath-taking and the highly inventive world created in the process proves that there's still plenty of room for ingenuity and fun in the ever-swelling gamut of post-apocalyptic stories. The film's surprise role as one of the year's most celebrated feminist statements just adds further enjoyability to the resolute, perfectly-executed on-screen carnage.

8. The Lobster - Bananas. Bonkers. Batshit crazy. There is not a word in the English language to accurately describe the absurdity of Yorgos Lanthimos' comedy-drama, at once existentially horrifying and hilariously surreal. The emotionally anaesthetized atmosphere made every violent or touching moment resonate all the more strongly, and the loopy premise with the accompanying bizarre narrative progression is like nothing you've ever seen before. And any film that provides one of the year's rawest and most powerful moments of drama from a character named 'Biscuit Woman' deserves as much praise as humanly possible.

7. Still Alice - Taking a gentle and understated approach was the perfect way to explore the tragedy of degenerative disease. It afforded for a realistic, slow-burning descent into darker and darker drama without once feeling heavy-handed, and paved the way for a career-best performance from Julianne Moore, who gives a masterclass in the effectiveness of subtlety. Every moment of upset was made all the more dramatic by the sympathetic realism the film was framed with, and the intelligent and highly personal sense of perspective on the central issue from writer-directors Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland creates a simplistically haunting tone that no other film this year came close to.

6. Pitch Perfect 2 - The original's intoxicating blend of sweetness, sarcasm and vulgarity was heightened by doubling down on each element, with an end result that consequently offers some of the year's most heartfelt scenes and some of its most gleefully distasteful (Suck it, Ted 2). Elizabeth Banks proves herself a steady hand behind the camera with a pleasing sense of flair, and the unbeatable chemistry of the ensemble cast deserves as many outings as it can get. The musical routines are as spectacular as ever, the antagonists are far funnier, and the whole package comes with an additional sense of investment that makes a solid argument for the validity of franchises. 

5. Inside Out - Exploring emotions in a way that could be understood by children required an unabashed sincerity that turned an amusing, whimsical journey into the most affecting and touching movie of the year. Brimming with all of Pixar's customary imagination and charm, Inside Out paired their simplistic but elegant character design with pitch-perfect voice actors (see the links between paragraphs? God, I'm clever) and let their amazing creations loose in an environment that provides the company's most openly sentimental and engaging story yet.

4. Brooklyn - A sophisticated and captivating portrait; very few protagonists have ever felt as fully rounded and fundamentally human as the awkward, resilient, yearnful Eilis, brought to life by an exemplary performance from Saoirse Ronan, who expertly captures every note on the emotional spectrum. A tender but moving presentation of culture shock was elevated by Nick Hornby's trademark wit and some well-handled blunt tragedies, and it's rare to see romantic conflict shown so maturely and poignantly.

3. Avengers: Age Of Ultron - Blisteringly exciting, high-octane action combined with theatrical heroism, beloved characters and sharp humour - OK, so we saw all of this in 2012, but it remains nonetheless expertly executed and entrancingly exhilarating. The growing cast of characters adds further depth to the universe and the chemistry between the leads still possesses that unparalleled spark. Joss Whedon has always been a superlative creative force and allowing him access to the film industry's most expansive (and expensive) toy chest is a treat that never fails to entertain to the highest degree.

2. The Martian - The abundant sense of sarcastic and playful comedy provided the perfect counterpart to the awestruck, inquisitive tone of the movie, creating a perfect ode to human ingenuity and triumph through adversity - not just through grand, brave gestures (although there's plenty of those), but with co-operative spirit, an loving enthusiasm for science and a healthy dose of flippancy. The hilarity so often present in the dialogue allowed the moments of real fear and alienation to hit all the harder, yet there was still something uplifting, and dare I say it, inspiring about the defiant optimism that lay at the heart of the narrative.

1. Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance) - Wow, the Best Picture winner was the best film, how insightful.

But really, what a fucking film. The perfect combination of dark comedy, showbiz satire and creative drama, all presented with invigoratingly manic pacing courtesy of the innovative cinematography and sound techniques. Aggressively hilarious, enjoyably chaotic and totally unpredictable, Birdman found genius in all places, deploying intimidating close-ups, moments of quiet solemnity, wryly self-aware casting choices and brutalising monologues on any seemingly innocuous subject it chose to turn its critical gaze to. Emma Stone, Edward Norton and especially Michael Keaton formed a perfect trio of unbalanced, energetic performances, bouncing back and forth in the film's claustrophobic environment to build an ever-mounting tension that remained uproarious, unsettling and saddening from beginning to end. Masterful filmmaking and a brilliant exhibition of the importance of innovation in technique and form, as well as damn near perfection in writing and performance. 

'Trainwreck' review by Captain Raptor

'Trainwreck' review by Jake Boyle

Despite the brilliant works he's helped bring to the screen through his prolific production work, I'd contend that Judd Apatow does not have a strong record when it comes to directing. The 40-Year-Old Virgin was decent, but Funny People remains one of the most spectacular failures I've ever seen, and the self-pitying suburban dramedy of This Is 40 didn't fair a whole lot better. Handing writing duties over to comedy's fastest-rising star would be a step in the right direction, but I still have my reservations about Amy Schumer too - undoubtedly admirable social commentary, but too often underpinned by a solitary joke, or even less.

Amy Schumer proves to be a solid, grounding lead in a film that spends much of its first hour floundering. While there are some brilliantly funny scenes (most of which feature John Cena and Lebron James beautifully playing against their image), there are an equal number of scenes that feel underwritten or just fail to land - great concepts such as Daniel Radcliffe's film-within-a-film about an overly serious dogwalker, or a group of acidic journalists spitballing the most obnoxious concepts for articles possible all come to nothing, but Schumer possesses enough charm in both her acting and writing that these moments merely stall momentum instead of causing frustration. Curiously for a romantic comedy (even one self-consciously attempting to distance itself from the genre), there's not an abundance of chemistry between Schumer and Bill Hader, to the extent that the film has to rely on a voiceover to describe them falling in love because otherwise it wasn't really clear.

Romantic comedies have a typical formula to them, and where Trainwreck really excels is not by differing from it, but by simply being much better at it. The requisite second act break-up is portrayed with a genuine sense of hurt and dismay among the humour, and the equally essential romantic gesture to win their love back is as sweet as any Katherine Heigl or John Hughes film, and wonderfully completes Amy's character arc. For once, Apatow succeeds in his search for meaningful drama amid lewd jokes and celebrity cameos (the former of which are done smartly here, the latter being mostly pointless), and it's the few bittersweet scenes detailing Amy's complicated relationship with her family that cause the most captivation. It's at this point that the comedy also improves, or at least becomes more consistent, because with a more concrete story in play and the emotional investment ramped up, the occasional lapses in humour don't feel as obtrusive or unintentional, and the jokes that do land feel much stronger due to the juxtaposition against a slightly more serious backdrop. Previous annoyances also start to redeem themselves during this period - Hader and Schumer are more convincing in their affections for another, and Ezra Miller spends most of the film being utterly pointless but becomes worth all the unnecessary screentime in a hilarious scene that showcases better than anything else Schumer's mastery of the awkward and uncomfortable whilst still being watchable.

Trainwreck struggles to take off in its first half and could do with condensing a lot of the earlier material - although nothing that features Cena or Lebron, just so we're clear. It still has its moments and provides adequate set-up for a more enjoyable second hour that impresses with some added weightiness and crafting something new and invigorating within the parameters of familiar archetypes. It's not an exceptional movie but it's a definite step in the right direction for Apatow, a promising debut as a lead actress and scriptwriter for Schumer, and overall a beneficial thing to exist in the same universe as.

'Paper Towns' review by Captain Raptor

'Paper Towns' review by Jake Boyle

The Fault In Our Stars worked, so don't fix it, right? Take the same screenwriters, the same producers and the same Nat Wolff to another of John Green's books, call it a day. That's not intended to denigrate the effort that was presumably put into making the film, nor are the tones of the two films especially similar, but the film does have an air of confidence surrounding it that feels like a major contributor to some of its deepest flaws.

Unfortunately, one of those flaws would be the casting of Nat Wolff, who not only fails to summon up any of the charm he displayed in The Fault In Our Stars but frequently appears so lifeless and neutral that at times I genuinely questioned director Jake Schreier's decision to accept his performance as any sort of attempt at acting. It is in keeping with his role as the everyman, but there's an important difference between ordinary and boring. This further scuppers an already awkwardly judged sense of comic timing, and very few of the film's verbal jokes manage to raise a laugh. The story's narrative contains a lot of changes of pace, which doesn't seem to have been taken into account by anybody - the road trip sequence, wherein there is a concentrated and stable group dynamic, is by far the most enjoyable section of the movie, but there aren't any other scenes where any dialogue or performing seems to flow comfortably. Cara Delevingne acquits herself well with an endearing performance in the first act that is let down by the film's ending (coming up shortly) and in a more energetic film, Justice Smith's droll delivery would have been phenomenally funny; as it is, his low-key excellence doesn't have the counterpart necessary to make it properly work.

I don't have much time for book purists, but decisions made with the presentation of the film's ending, to my mind, utterly destroy the central concept and arguably the entire point of the story. Without wanting to give too much away, the protagonist's crucial mistake is treated not with any degree of hostility, bitterness or resentment, but instead immediate sympathy and an understanding correction, undermining the whole narrative purpose for having him make said mistake. It's a shame because it comes right after the movie was really beginning to build up some steam and genuine investment, something which the first hour, while more or less an agreeable experience, was sorely lacking. With this subversive moment of realisation at the end being so dulled down and mollified (which is saying something given than Green can hardly be considered a radical writer), all that is really left is a pile of tired high school movie clichés performed with very little charisma and inventiveness, although up until the catastrophic ending, the emotional tone of the movie is astutely constructed in its atmosphere and in one confessional bathtub scene actually manages to be thoughtful and touching for a brief period.

My immediate reaction to Paper Towns was a sense of overwhelming disappointment but tinged with enjoyment at particular elements, but the more I consider it the more negative my opinion becomes. Justice Smith did seem very promising, but so did Nat Wolff in The Fault In Our Stars, yet here he is giving one of the worst performances of 2015 so far. The road trip segment of the movie was funny, but it's still riddled with familiar mawkish sentiments, and a cameo is a pretty cheap way to gain laughs. There are fleeting moments and even whole scenes in which this film is good, both on dramatic and comedic levels, but the lack of imagination, chemistry and insight that possesses the majority of this movie means that it is, ultimately, a failure.

'The Legend Of Barney Thomson' review by Captain Raptor

'The Legend Of Barney Thomson' review by Jake Boyle

Heroin addiction, the apocalypse, institutional racism - Robert Carlyle's filmography reads like a categorized list of the bleakest possible topics. Even Eragon was depressing, albeit for reasons of quality rather than subject matter. Black comedy can be an awkward line to tread, with even seasoned contributors to the genre like Mark Millar and the Coen Brothers making the occasional misfire, but despite having previously only directed a single Stargate episode, Carlyle seems a perfect fit for both helming and starring in a comedy in which you see multiple dismembered body parts in the opening credits.

Directorial inexperience does cause a slight hitch in that little thought appears to have been put into visuals and framing, particularly with the abundance of eye-level, front-facing shots that make it hard to create much of an atmosphere in the early moments of the film when very little is happening. The initial slowness isn't capitalized on much, with a number of the jokes falling flat, but once the ball gets rolling, the film quickly picks up. As the situation becomes more and more convoluted and deadly, Barney's haplessness becomes all the more amusing, and in turn, his stony-hearted mother's unsympathetic reactions (which were incredibly funny to begin with) become even better. One achievement Carlyle can claim as a director is the truly magnificent performance he has coaxed out of Emma Thompson (barely recognisable, disguised with prosthetics and a highly authentic accent), who utterly inhabits her character and delivers her brilliant lines with a relaxed callousness that sounds far more devastating than any angry tirade. The panicked energy that Carlyle brings is his strongest contribution in a solid performance, which comes to life the most when he's bouncing off the more stoic members of the cast such as Ray Winstone and Brian Pettifer.

One of The Legend Of Barney Thomson's strongest attributes is the way it deals with its macabre themes. The darkness is mostly just limited to the murder-focused plot, not counting one brilliant joke about paedophiles, but there's enough homicide to keep the film's momentum unwavering (once it begins) without ever going into overkill (pun intended). The violence and the horror of it are treated with a degree of gleefulness but never one that verges on self-satisfied or lazy. The plot is very well constructed (although that is more praise for the original book's author Douglas Lindsay), escalating the danger and weaving elements together in a way that rarely feels convoluted, and the one plot twist that does test the bounds of credibility provides so much dramatic and comedic payoff that it's very easily excused. The resolution of the story is fantastic, although it's slightly scuppered by Barney's narration, which throughout the film presents information that the actors were quite easily capable of conveying themselves, with not much comedic value. As a whole, the dialogue is of quite a high standard albeit occasionally plain, but comedy is mostly drawn from contrasting Barney's uselessness with the seriousness of his situation, best exemplified in the brilliant sequence where he tries to dispose of a body in an inflatable dinghy.

The Legend Of Barney Thomson falters in the beginning while it's still establishing itself, but once the pace builds and the tone darkens, it quickly becomes an invigorating and consistently amusing exercise in black comedy. Those familiar with the genre won't find anything especially groundbreaking, but it's well-crafted and played out with enthusiasm and certainty. As a director, Carlyle shows no real interest in style, however more crucially he does get a firm grip on the substance of the film and has a good eye for material. His performance is as nuanced as the film's tone allows and balances intense pitfulness with a distant likability, and doesn't deserve to be overlooked just because Emma Thompson is so brilliant and brazen. There are small hiccups and perhaps a lack of ambition, so Barney might not be truly legendary, but it's a decent directorial debut, a vehicle for the finest comedic performance of the year, and a pleasantly unpleasant tale to be told.  

'Southpaw' review by Captain Raptor

'Southpaw' review by Jake Boyle

Man, Jake Gyllenhaal, right? What an actor. Donnie Darko, Nightcrawler...

OK, that's all I've seen him in, but still, those are two phenomenal, brilliant films, and his performance is the most fantastic element of both those masterpieces. As long as his next project was at least vaguely interesting, my attendance was practically guaranteed. Vaguely interesting does seem quite apt for describing Southpaw's allure - boxing drama is territory that is simultaneously well-trodden but open for new interpretations, and director Antoine Fuqua specialises in the realm of 'meh'-tier films, so adding such an accomplished actor into the mix was interesting. Vaguely.

Southpaw is a very familiar tale of fall and redemption, told with just a slightly darker, more emotionally exploratory edge to it. The journey of the protagonist (the laughably named Billy Hope) from success through tragedy to self-acceptance is not just archetypal of sports dramas but cinema in general, and while Gyllenhaal and Forest Whitaker are on hand to lend an additional sense of maturity and pathos, it's still nothing new. Gyllenhaal gives a consummate performance and really shines in some of the low-key scenes wherein he can demonstrate some subtlety in his character's frustration, but given that the man is capable of creating on-screen miracles it's still somewhat disappointing. The reoccurring theme of this movie is the actors outperforming the script, drawing attention to its weaknesses; child actress Oona Laurence emotes and expresses very believably, but the dialogue written for her is so clawingly one-dimensional and robotic that she's clearly been considered a plot device first and a character second. This is true of the majority of the film's supporting characters, who exist solely to motivate Billy, which leads to a worrying reoccurring issue in which characters are killed with very fanfare in order that they might serve their narrative purpose.

In related issues of stilted writing, Lord Almighty did Kurt Sutter (making quite the inauspicious debut as a writer of feature films) phone it in towards the end. The simplistic schmaltz of the film's ending can be forgiven, because there does seem to be an actual sense of heart to it, but there are numerous plotlines and character arcs that all remain unresolved, with no sign that this is intended as a realistic, 'life goes on' conclusion à la Bridge And Tunnel. More obnoxious than anything else is the dialogue of the climactic boxing match's commentators - when they're not recapping the plot of what you've already watched, they're practically instructing the audience how to feel, including one truly barbarous line in which there is an explicit mentioning of the fight's emotional subtext, just in case the audience was incapable of understanding anything that had happened over the previous two hours.

It's not wholly representative that this review mostly focuses on negative aspects of the film, especially the writing; Southpaw is, overall, a decidedly okay and sustainably enjoyable viewing, and for the most part, it is effectively if unambitiously written - it's just that when it does make mistakes, they're pretty monumental errors. Overall, Sutter and Fuqua have made a comfortable film with a few hints of edge to it, and strong performances - even from 50 Cent and especially from Gyllenhaal, making mumbling and sluggishness halfway compelling - both elevate the experience and highlight the inferiorities in its production.

'Ant-Man' review by Captain Raptor

'Ant-Man' review by Jake Boyle

I told myself I wouldn't get excited. I promised. They took the film Edgar Wright had been developing for nearly a decade and pushed him away from the project, but even their aggravation of the director I revere the most couldn't overcome my intrinsic Marvel fanboy nature. Besides, if the script has to be rewritten, Adam McKay and Paul Rudd are reassuringly competent hands, one would think. So, yeah, I did get excited for Ant-Man in the final month or so before its release, and as you've probably figured out by now, I'm feeling pretty foolish about that.

Perhaps the one thing that Ant-Man is most sorely lacking is the idiosyncrasies and occasional offbeat ticks that have made previous fan favourites such as Iron Man and Guardians Of The Galaxy so beloved. A thief who can shrink himself and communicate with ants is a promisingly oddball premise, but there aren't as many attempts at humour as there needs to be, and the jokes that are made often fall flat, neither written or delivered with much assurance. This might perhaps be an unavoidable consequence of changing the script and director midway through production, but nevertheless there's a dire lack of charisma on display. It's especially notable given that Ant-Man is understandably light on action for much of its runtime, meaning that great swathes of the movies are just dry exposition, despite the best efforts of an impressively energetic Michael Peña. The training sequence in the second act is nearly excruciatingly dull, and made me yearn for the days when a cheesy but brief montage would have sufficed. This section seriously calls into question the directing ability of Peyton Reed, seemingly incapable of carrying out even the simplest of jokes (apparently the way to execute a pratfall is not to see it at all and just see other characters roll their eyes). It's made worse by a truly miserable performance from Evangeline Lily, whose underwritten character is further diminished by her apparently having no comprehension of how human facial expressions work.

As damning as all that is, Ant-Man isn't spectacularly bad, really, just disappointing coming from the MCU. Things really pick up for the final half an hour, when the action starts flowing better and fully embracing the premise - the climactic showdown partially takes place inside a suitcase and on a toy train track, and while the interspersing wide shots showing how inconsequential their fighting appears is quite an obvious joke, it does regain the film a needed sense of knowing. Paul Rudd doesn't make as charming or funny a lead as expected of him, but he's not a total wash; some of the film's worst moments (such as a kiss at the end that truly pushes new boundaries for chemistry-free forced romances) are made less awkward by his natural affability, and while no aspect of his performance is as promising as Peña's, I do think he'll serve well in Markus and McFeely's presumably stronger script for Captain America: Civil War. In terms of visuals, the film is once again disappointingly bland until the end, where a highly predictable moment is immeasurably improved by the inclusion of some trippy kaleidoscopic special effects that could have been taken from the end of Interstellar.

Ant-Man is not a good film, but it is also not a truly bad film. That's damning with faint praise already, but given the general level of quality of Marvel films and the potential this film began with, it's hard not to feel that all things considered, this is a failure. It's not without merit and the last thirty minutes were unambiguously enjoyable,  but none of that is enough to overcome the significant flaws that riddle the movie. Without wanting to sound bitter, Edgar Wright would almost certainly have made a much better movie, and while the end product is mostly watchable with some encouraging moments, it's telling that the strongest of all these moments is Falcon making a joke about Captain America - completely unconnected to the main storyline and characters, and simply reminding the audience of the superiority of Marvel's other properties.

'Wet Hot American Summer' review by Captain Raptor

'Wet Hot American Summer' review by Jake Boyle

Looking back at the cast of Wet Hot American Summer, it's crazy to see how successful pretty much everybody involved with that movie has become. It seems like a minor miracle that the entire original cast has agreed to reunite for the upcoming prequel miniseries, an event that provides the perfect reason to become acquainted with one of this century's most culty indie comedies, and one last point-scoring opportunity for Paul Rudd before I get to see Ant-Man.

Wet Hot American Summer's starting territory is hormonal teenaged antics, and while it manages to obtain a fair share of genuine laughs out of hapless pursuits of the heart and groin (think more Animal House than American Pie), there's a definitively erratic tone, energetically transitioning between a multitude of characters and comedic stylings. There are silly, goofy moments interspersed with jokes about drowning children and heroin dens, and deadpan non-sequiturs. Mixing baser comedy with more abstract humour benefits both; the film can divulge in bizarre flights of fantasy and Airplane!-esque zaniness but remains grounded by the easily understood character motivations and more relaxed adult jokes. The dialogue has been confidently written and is delivered and reacted to with equal self-assurance, mostly with a straight-faced simplicity that lets the strength of the comedy speak for itself. However, this confidence also allows for incredibly exaggerated moments (Paul Rudd turns picking up a plate into a 30 second routine that had me giggling constantly) because the viewer can appreciate that the film understands subtlety, and has chosen to temporarily abandon it.

Rudd's unflappable moodiness is a piece of brilliance, and one that is matched by every member of the cast. They all possess the ability to switch from low-key to frenetic in a second, most notably David Hyde Pierce, and they gel together seamlessly. A special commendation, however, must be awarded to Christopher Meloni's intensely kooky performance as a perverted, delusional Vietnam veteran. He embeds every ridiculous line with a real sense of seething rage to beautifully contrast the absurdity of what he's saying, and steals the show with film's funniest scene, a monologue about self-acceptance that involves him talking to a tin of peas and dry-humping a fridge. Aside from these moments of unapologetic lunacy, the independent production further benefits Wet Hot American Summer by allowing for the relaxed inclusion of gay characters being intimate (rarely found nowadays, let alone in 2001) and deliberately terrible props. No matter what territory the plot strays into, the film remains permanently light (even when dealing with the aforementioned darker elements) and unsentimental, culminating in an ending that gleefully deconstructs stereotypical happy resolutions and undoes its major character arcs.

Wet Hot American Summer sold out four times on its premiere at Sundance, and it isn't hard to see why. Energetic, inventive, and unabashedly weird, it's a film that has torn up the comedy rulebook, but only after having studied it laboriously and mastered every style. Each moment of balls-to-the-wall foolishness is sandwiched by dry wit and highly self-aware writing, and the quick pace with which we move through the multitude of scenes bequeaths a aura of snappiness, although the relaxed performances of the film's fantastic ensemble never let proceedings get too out of hand. The outlandishness of it all might grate on some, especially towards the end where the craziness is ramped up to compensate for a slight running out of steam, but this is an incredibly funny movie and while the Netflix series is a risky move, it's one that I eagerly await.