10. Captain Philips
This is Tom Hanks giving another brilliant performance in an Academy Award-worthy movie that relies on the perfectly paced escalation of tension. Director Paul Greengrass reworks techniques from the Bourne trilogy and Green Zone to create a thriller that feels familiar, while cutting out the negative nuances of his previous work.
The film industry currently seems obsessed with the feeling of tension. The Hurt Locker and Gravity are two notable examples. Captain Phillips is able to balance tension with a good degree of character development, which adds emphasis to the consequences of the characters’ actions.
Captain Philips also plays on common themes and ideas, such as the exploration of what common men can do in extraordinary situations. It involves traits that are both reflective of Greengrass’s prior works and the modern movie industry as a whole. It is incredibly engaging and explains everything in detail. What could very easily have been a typical popcorn flick is instead elevated to a feat of modern filmmaking.
- Shane Madill
9. Despicable Me 2
People entering creative professions must hold on to that wondrous childhood idea that they can do anything. Although artists are generally cynical, melancholy pricks, a delusional sense of optimism is a pre-requisite for success; if you don’t think you can write a passable novel, neither will the jaded publisher who’ll toss your precious manuscript into the trash. On that note, Despicable Me 2 is a movie that can restore the zest for life you’d thought you’d left behind when you entered high school. Simply put, the animated sequel to 2010’s wildly popular Despicable Me (duh) is a work that defies a label like “children’s movie.” Although entertaining for the younger generation, it can also be seen as a wake-up call for many of us to get our angsty heads out of our asses and stop moping about. Do you think the guys who made up Gru and his delightful entourage of minions were as self-serious as Hemingway? Answer: No. Cinco Paul, one half of the writing team behind the film, takes hot baths to loosen his creative muscles in his office. Find a way to watch it if you haven’t already. You’ll be skipping to school for days.
- Tomi Milos
8. Dirty Wars
The documentary Dirty Wars, narrated by the war reporter Jeremy Scahill, deserves to be on this list because of the film’s scary, and real, scenarios.
While Scahill is stationed in Afghanistan, he hears about a night raid that happened in a NATO “denied area.” Still, he decides to investigate and learns that one Afghan policeman and three women have been killed by what the family describes as “American Taliban.”
Back in the US, Scahill presents the family’s case to Congress with a bleak result. Neither the US Government, nor NATO wishes to investigate the case further; instead they are trying to cover it up. Regardless of this subterfuge, the family’s story leaks and NATO is forced to make a semi-public apology. But Scahill cannot let go of the story, and finds out that the night raids have multiplied. He counts 1,700 within a short period of time, both in declared and undeclared war zones. An elite force, JSOC, which has the full support of the White House, executes the night raids.
Dirty Wars confirms the unspoken reality that the War on Terror is a self-fulfilling prophecy and it echoes fictional films and series, such as 24 and the Bourne trilogy, with a frightening result.
- Lene Trunjer Petersen
7. Mud
Mud is a film you experience with your nose as much as with your eyes and ears. Director Jeff Nichols renders the Arkansas Delta so vividly that you can smell the fish in paper bags, the snake-ridden pools of swamp water, and the sweat that glues a fugitive’s shirt to his tattooed back.
The shirt belongs to Mud (Matthew McConaughey), who is hiding out on a small island in the Mississippi River when a pair of young boys discovers him.
Back to the shirt. It has a wolf’s eye sewn on the sleeve, which Mud believes offers him supernatural protection, just like the crosses in his boot heels. Mud talks constantly about such otherworldly signs and symbols using rich, shamanistic language that fits exquisitely with McConaughey’s hypnotic drawl. “There are fierce powers in the world,” he cautions the boys, “Good, evil, poor luck, best luck.”
The mysterious outlaw immediately entrances 14-year old Ellis (Tye Sheridan), but the boy’s companion, Neckbone (Jacob Lofland), remains skeptical. Initially, it seems that Neckbone will merely be a crude sidekick, but he is slowly revealed to be, in some ways, the wisest and most resourceful character of all. He confounds any stereotype about slow-fitted country folk.
In Mud, Nichols creates one of the most atmospheric places that appeared onscreen in 2013, and he populates this landscape with people who are just as finely textured.
- Cooper Long
6. The Act of Killing
When the first atomic bomb was tested, Robert J. Oppenheimer stated that, “[a] few people laughed. Few people cried. Most people were silent. I remembered the line of the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad Gita; Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and, to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, ‘Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’ I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.”
And Joshua Oppenheimer’s The Act of Killing, which recounts the US-funded and Indonesian-supported 1965 killings of those labeled as communists and ethnic Chinese, mirrors this shuttering fear of human potential as a machine of death. By placing those who committed the murders in charge of their own creative display and development, death becomes more than just a life ending. In between the sprawling beauty of Indonesia, there is pageantry of smiling madness, a display of armed killers who think nothing of strangling children or large-scale massacres. They laugh. They smile. And they killed doing both.
Yet by experiencing their murders again, not as murderers but as spectators, the movie becomes less of a shock and more of a social experiment in personal guilt. As the characters put on the show, there is no longer an act. There is only the act – the reality that they have killed, maimed, and that they have taken more than just a life. They have taken an entire existence with its idiosyncrasies, worries, and personal responsibilities. There, underneath the tension of a wire, was a father, a son, a lover and a friend.
And this affects them. In staging death, the seemingly atrocious thugs experience death again by becoming it, by giving it a name, a face, an entire creative development.
- Kacper Niburski
10.
Holy Fire
Foals
Foal’s third LP opens with “Prelude,” a four-minute track thrumming with energy and pent-up rage. Most are familiar with the demons that haunt lead singer Yannis Philippakis and it’s clear that the anxiety that coloured Antidotes and Total Life Forever are even more prominent in the songwriting and instrumentation of this album. Holy Fire is therefore not a record for relaxing, but rather for screaming and breaking shit to (e.g. “Inhaler”). Anthemic jams like “My Number” are as fun to belt out alone in your room as they are at one of their raucous shows.
The rest of the album also sounds fantastic live, which I was happy to discover at the Kool Haus last May. It was a pleasant surprise to find that fans were not shy of moshing or crowd surfing and I had a terrific time throwing my weight around to tracks like “Milk and Black Spiders” and “Providence.” That is, until a girl’s flailing arm knocked my glasses off. For a few seconds, I anxiously tried to locate them myself before the entire pit stopped moshing and someone shone their SLR camera’s flash to help me find them. My frames had to be realigned and now sport a few unsightly scratches, but I wouldn’t trade the experience of hearing this fantastic record in person for anything (including unscathed frames).
- Tomi Milos
9.
Reflektor
Arcade Fire
When I look back on the growth of the Montreal-based band from Funeral released back in 2004, all the way to The Suburbs, which won a Grammy for Best Alternative Music Album, I do so with a smile on my face because they consistently retain a distinctly Canadian sound for the whole world to hear. And when they announced Reflektor, their success meant that the stakes were higher than ever before. Reflektor had to deliver.
Thankfully, Arcade Fire has done it again. The songs are edgy, experimental, but still preserve the strong musicality that has made the band so critically and commercially acclaimed. The title track in particular represents an ambitious and unique rhythmic experience and features Haitian percussionists. Tracks continue to stay strong, moving and attractive with “We Exist,” “Here Comes the Night Time,” and “Afterlife.”
There’s something special about Reflektor – something beyond the intelligent chord changes and punchy choruses. There’s an intangible element, an intricate, but thoughtful and accessible musical quality that underscores Arcade Fire as not only one of the best Canadian bands, but as the artists behind one of the best albums of the year.
- Michael Gallagher
8.
Overgrown
James Blake
With increased confidence in his production and vocal abilities compared to his previous works, James Blake is able to place more emphasis on his expressive croon and engage listeners into a unique, one-of-a-kind experience. Overgrown’s continuously shifted textures and nuances support broad and repeated emotional phrases that pull at as many heartstrings as possible.
Whether you connect more with the admission of being flawed from “Voyeur,” the subtle sexiness of “Retrograde,” or any other emotion conveyed on the album, the only sure thing about the experience is that you will feel something as a result of Blake’s lyrics and instrumentals. You may not be able to put it into words, due to Blake’s production offering multiple interpretations in each short track, but you will realize that these different emotional possibilities result in what seems to be a completely new listening experience with each play-through.
Overgrown can somehow be reflective, sad, sexy, positive and energetic all at the same time, and will continue to grow in stature and promise for repeated listens.
- Shane Madill
7.
Shaking the Habitual
The Knife
This is 96 minutes of being uncomfortable. Even if discussion — or rather blunt and direct statements — about conventionally controversial topics, such as feminist and queer theory, environmentalism and structuralism, or injustice and corruption, do not affect you, then there is still the continuous drone and screech of bastardized samples underneath ear-piercingly high vocals to provoke a reaction.
Shaking the Habitual draws the listener in like a good horror movie and refuses to let go. The softer midpoints of the album provide momentary release and hope for comfort before it is snatched away, often with progressive buildup rather than with sudden stimulus.
Shaking the Habitual is fearless in this endeavour, and is not recommended for casual listening in the slightest. This is brutal and awkward art that continues to push the boundaries of what is thought possible in conventional electronic music. It is something that you may not even want to finish, but are compelled to for a seemingly inexplicable reason. Deep and impactful art tends to be uncomfortable to admire, and this is no exception.
- Shane Madill
6.
Beyoncé
Beyoncé
“I’m a grown woman,” Beyoncé asserts on the album’s funky West African-inspired bonus track, “I Can Do Whatever I Want.” Beyoncé’s fifth album adheres to her proclamation of self-empowerment. Beyoncé is a musical, visual, and commercial tour de force. The album was released without any prior announcement or promotion. Each song is accompanied by a stunningly aesthetic video. Sonically, Beyoncé defies conventional pop formulas and encompasses a wide range of sounds.
The album is more experimental in sound than Beyoncé’s previous solo efforts. Seemingly dissonant soundscapes are seamlessly woven together. Her vocal style shifts radically from one song to the next, but it never feels forced. Many of the album’s sounds are not new; Beyoncé has borrowed musical elements from her contemporaries. The falsetto, breathy vocals on “No Angel” are reminiscent of Ciara’s sensual ballad, “Promise.” The sultry, soulful slow jam, “Rocket” is an obvious nod to the funkified sex songs of D’Angelo. But these elements are imbued with a poise and virtuosity that is distinctively Bey. Or rather, distinctively Yoncé.
Yoncé is an alter-ego that we haven’t met before; she is lusty, sexual, and confident. On “Jealous,” Beyoncé exposes her fragility. She is home alone, drunk and naked, waiting for her man to come home, when suddenly Yoncé appears. Yoncé doesn’t sulk. She throws her freakum dress on and hypes herself up: “I look damn good, I ain’t lost it,” she declares. On the surface, this line references her impeccable postpartum physique, however it is representative of much more.
Beyoncé refuses to conform to societal expectations of maternity. While she acknowledges the beauty of motherhood on “Blue,” she informs us throughout the album that this one identity does not preclude her others. Beyoncé is a full-fledged woman: fierce, brave, sexual, vulnerable, anxious.
When Beyoncé dropped on Dec. 13, the Internet exploded. Twitter and Facebook feeds wouldn’t look the same for weeks. When Queen Bey speaks, people listen. Especially when her message is as bold, creative, and effortless as it is on Beyoncé.
Bow down, bitches. The album is ***Flawless.
- Josh Spring
Check back next week for numbers 5-1!