The Big 2022 Movie Draft on 'The Extra Credits'

This was fun: The hosts of The Extra Credits had Will and me on to participate in a draft of last year's best movies. The rules were that we'd each get five picks, and then we'd let the listeners choose whose slate was the best. You can hear our draft and deliberations down below. If you wanted a decent overview of the 20 most worthwhile/noteworthy movies of 2022, this is a good place to start.

Best of 2022: The Top 10 Movies of the Year

Before MEL was a website, or had a name, it was just an idea. I had been working with Josh Schollmeyer, who was my editor at Playboy for a few years, and before that we were acquaintances. (I was buddies with his childhood best friend in film school. Josh and I then met at the friend's bachelor party and stayed in touch.) Over at Playboy, Josh and I were excited by the prospect of revitalizing a publication that had fallen into self-parody, one that had once done smart cultural coverage and thoughtful, in-depth interviews. The possibility of trying something different in the world of men's magazines — something that reflected the fact that modern masculinity wasn't anything like what you saw in men's magazines — appealed to both of us.

It didn't work out at Playboy, and soon Josh was looking for something new. I still remember having dinner with him a little while later. He sounded optimistic. "You know how we talked about what we'd like to do at Playboy if we'd had the chance?" he said to me. "I think I may have found that." This was in 2014.

Michael Dubin, the CEO of Dollar Shave Club, had been interested in starting a men's publication. He and Josh founded this nascent site, and Josh brought me on to help him and some others dream up what it could be — and, also, what we didn't want it to be. It wasn't going to be heavily, boringly masculine. It was going to be curious about the world and the societal shifts that were occurring. It was going to talk about mental health and sexuality and politics and online culture. I helped write the site's initial articles in order for us to get a sense of what the potential might be. It wasn't until 2016 that we really started to promote the site — and only after it had finally landed on an official name. MEL. Three capital letters. No, it wasn't a reference to Mel Gibson. It was a name that had a personal connection for Michael. As with all new websites, the name sounded dumb at first. But, as with all new websites, the more you said it — and the more the site began to establish its voice — the more natural the name became.

I was merely a contributing editor — writing pieces and pitching ideas in staff meetings — but Josh soon assembled a great collection of writers, artists and editors who believed in his vision. I handled entertainment and the arts, and they covered everything else, which was a lot. Pitch meetings were a joy because I learned so much from these people, whose areas of expertise were so different from mine. For most of MEL's run, I'm fairly certain I was the oldest contributor, and this Gen-Xer got an education about the real-life experiences of Millennials and Gen-Zers, which were vastly different and more complex than the patronizing depictions I'd often read in the news. Josh encouraged us to draw from our interests and anxieties when suggesting articles, and so we learned a lot about one another. 

For me personally, what I especially learned was how those younger generations perceived the filmmakers, actors and musicians that I held dear — and, spoiler alert, they weren't always as enamored as I was. Stopping by the MEL offices or reading some of my colleagues' pieces was a constant reminder that any sense of an artistic canon or sacred cows was a myth. Everything was up for debate, which wasn't surprising since the site was so dedicated to questioning how much patriarchal systems played into determining what kinds of entertainment were considered "worthy." Having to defend what I considered unarguable positions was a useful exercise. My younger cohorts inspired me to scrutinize how I evaluate art — and to interrogate my own blind spots.

As many women as men wrote for MEL, and while it was never an especially large staff, it was fairly diverse. We had writers all across the country, as well as the U.K. It felt like a family, which is a thing you sometimes hear about publications. Nonetheless, I've been lucky to have felt part of a few such families in my professional life, and MEL was one of them. 

The site was nimble enough to respond to what was happening during those years. Trump's ascendance, which was also the rise of neo-Nazis in this country, inspired a lot of thoughtful reporting and essays. The allegations against Harvey Weinstein, which sparked the #MeToo movement, provoked painful soul-searching about what it meant to be a good ally. These and other issues of the time, including Black Lives Matter, were examined from the perspective of masculinity, but in retrospect what I realize MEL was doing was exploring how masculinity was itself at the heart of all these societal ills. "Toxic masculinity" eventually became a cliched buzzword, but that was what MEL was dedicated to dissecting. I can't speak for anyone else, but as a straight white man, the site was cathartic. Even while writing about movies, music, television and whatever else, I found myself returning again and again to these same themes, roto-rooting through my anger and helplessness at how bad America seemed in the Trump years. Of course, others had know far longer than I about the insidiousness of sexism and racism in this country, but I was determined to do my part in addressing it in the popular culture I covered.

MEL went away briefly in 2021 when Unilever, which bought Dollar Shave Club, decided to cut our financing. We found another home soon after, but the resurrection was short-lived: At a meeting on July 22, 2022, we found out MEL was done, effective immediately. Just about anybody who's had a job in journalism or media has had one of those experiences. It's not fun. 

I've been so happy that so many of my colleagues have gone on to do great work at other places. It is bittersweet to see some of them get engaged or married — I always felt like the "old" person in comparison to them, the married guy in a room of mostly young, single folks. Life keeps moving, but I will always feel fortunate to have known them and to have worked alongside them. 

And I'm grateful to Josh, who brought me on at the start, giving me a wide platform to write about all types of things. For MEL, I profiled so many artists I've long admired, including Frederick Wiseman, Todd Haynes, Werner Herzog, Craig Finn, Britt Daniel, Rufus Wainwright and Boots Riley. Plus, I got to speak to emerging talents, like Garrett Bradley and Ephraim Asili. And then there were the cultural deep dives that Josh encouraged me to pursue. One of my favorite pieces was dedicated to the long shadow that Deliverance's rape scene still casts across society. I'm also quite proud of my look back at the history of the Red Ryder BB gun, a symbol of boyhood violence for generations, which gained newfound popularity thanks to A Christmas Story. (It remains a beloved holiday item.) And I was very pleased Neil LaBute sat down for a long conversation this year in honor of the 25th anniversary of In the Company of Men. He was willing to talk about everything, including his seeming cultural disappearing act since #MeToo. 

But I also really loved writing what Josh and I nicknamed "Song Histories," which were 3,000-to-4,000-word essays on iconic or infamous songs that were suddenly back in the collective consciousness for whatever reason. More than just simple "What inspired this song" pieces, these were my nearly-weekly attempt to deliver definitive takes on artists and their work, all through the prism of one indelible tune. My tributes to "Fast Car," "Nothing Compares 2 U," "Wake Up," "Nothing Else Matters," "You Oughta Know," "Strange Fruit," "My Way," "Vienna," "Jeremy," "Stan" and others allowed me to place a song within its historical context while reflecting on its continued resonance, especially as songs were being rediscovered and reconsidered on TikTok and social media. Unexpectedly, these were also sometimes very emotional to write: There's a powerful intimacy to music that not even the greatest film can quite achieve, and even when I didn't particularly like the artists I was discussing, I found myself connected to them in a way I hadn't before. I miss Song Histories more than just about anything else from my MEL days.

I write for so many great outlets. And yet, you always prepare yourself for the possibility that any of them could go away at a moment's notice. Being with MEL from the start will always be something I'm awfully proud of. MEL didn't change the world, but it helped me make sense of it for a little while.

* * * * *

Now, let's talk a little about the film year. Here's my Top 10...

1. Aftersun
2. The Eternal Daughter
3. Tar
4. One Fine Morning
5. Playground
6. Vortex
7. Descendant
8. EO
9. The Fabelmans
10. Neptune Frost

The two movies I most wanted to get onto that list were We're All Going to the World's Fair (No. 11) and Mad God (No. 12), both of them exceptional. Alas, they just didn't make the cut.

If you're curious, I also put together a list for Screen International. But be warned: Screen counts any film that premiered at any festival this year as a 2022 release, so a certain Kelly Reichardt gem that won't open in the U.S. until 2023 is on it. Also, we put documentaries and features on two separate lists. 

If the most noted theme of this year was "Movies about the power of movies," my Top 10 suggests that I was more moved by the relationship between children and parents — specifically, how the child (a.k.a. the filmmaker) tries to understand the parent they've lost. Look no further than The Fabelmans, which Universal is incorrectly selling as a paean to cinema's redemptive power. Anybody who watches Steven Spielberg's personal project will correctly assess that it's really more of a lament for how art can't fully heal the wounds that family dysfunction creates. That sense of trying to use filmmaking as a balm carried through in several of 2022's finest movies, like One Fine Morning, The Eternal Daughter and Aftersun, all of them as nakedly semi-autobiographical as Spielberg's opus. The poignancy of those films derives from how clear-eyed they are about the permanent divide between ourselves and the unknowable adults who raised us — and how even a terrific movie can't bridge it.

* * * * * 

Professionally, I remain, happily, extremely busy. I have now been writing for Screen International for 17 years, serving as the trade's Senior U.S. Critic and traveling to Cannes and Toronto. (Fingers crossed, I'll be back at Sundance in January for the first time since 2020.) In the wake of MEL's end, I've contributed pieces to Slate, Chron, GQ, InsideHook, Decider and Cracked, but I've been especially pleased to profile several actors and filmmakers for the Los Angeles Times. It was a treat to speak to White Lotus star Michael Imperioli and Yellowjackets' Christina Ricci, but even those highlights couldn't compare to interviewing the creative teams behind three of my four favorite films of 2022: Aftersun, The Eternal Daughter and One Fine Morning. Their insights and enthusiasm only increased my love for their movies. And if all that wasn't enough, I also spent a relaxing afternoon with Nina Hoss from Tar, the other of my four favorites.

Speaking of the L.A. Times, perhaps my single most enjoyable experience of the year was hanging out with Lizzo. A few weeks before Special came out, but with "About Damn Time" already on the radio and climbing the charts, I talked to her about therapy, self-esteem and her burgeoning empire, which included a soon-to-be-Emmy-winning reality series. Cocky, assertive, candid, crass, vulnerable, funny as hell, Lizzo could not have been better company. Some profiles you finesse and shape, and some you simply try your best to accurately reflect what it was like to be in the subject's presence. I think I did a little of the former with Lizzo, but in some ways, that piece was mostly the latter. 

Meanwhile, the Grierson & Leitch podcast celebrated its sixth year in 2022. You can hear me on a regular basis over at KCRW's Press Play With Madeleine Brand. I was once again thrilled to be part of the Gotham Awards nominating committee. And 10 years after being asked for the first time to submit a ballot for the once-a-decade Sight and Sound greatest films poll, I sent in a very different one in 2022. I remain ecstatic about the new critics' poll champ, which I consider the second-greatest movie ever made. (The greatest ended up topping the directors' poll.) In much sadder news, I had the honor of writing the obituary for Jean-Luc Godard over at Rolling Stone.

Now that the pandemic is fading into the background, it's been great to get back out in front of audiences to moderate Q&As with filmmakers. Most of these weren't recorded, but in some ways the off-the-cuff casualness of the exchanges was what made them such fun. My thanks to the folks from RRR, All That Breathes, Navalny, All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, Decision to Leave, The African Desperate, A Piece of Sky and Riotsville, U.S.A. for inviting me to host these conversations. 

And that's enough. Here's to a great 2023. This new year will be one of milestones for me. It's my 30th anniversary of moving to Los Angeles. It's been 20 years since I started dating my wife Susan. My hope is you have milestones to celebrate in 2023 as well — things you're already looking forward to and ones yet to be discovered.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: The Best Films of 2022

It's that time of year again. Will and I each count down our Top 10 films of 2022 on this week's episode. Hope you enjoy.

Harry Styles - "Grapejuice"

Harry's House is not going to make my Top 10, but I do really enjoy this song.

 

Sudan Archives - "Selfish Soul"

The mental listmaking for the year's best albums is already in high gear. A good excuse to revisit Natural Brown Prom Queen.

2022 Gotham Awards Nominees

I never stop being thrilled to be asked to serve on the Gotham Awards nominating juries. This year, I was once again part of the Acting committee, selecting the finalists for Outstanding Lead Performance, Outstanding Supporting Performance, and Breakthrough Performer. I was joined by Robert Daniels, Jon Frosch, Tomris Laffly and Brian Tallerico, and we had a fine time meeting and debating. You can see our picks here, as well as those in the other film and television categories. 

Venice/Telluride/Toronto 2022: The Wrap-Up and the Rankings

Does it feel like awards season? Like it or not, we've entered fall, when the more serious, prestigious (or, at the very least, the ones that pretend to be prestigious) movies start taking center stage. And I was very happy to back in the thick of it: For the first time in three years, I attended the Toronto Film Festival, which along with Venice and Telluride kick-start the annual Oscar conversation. I had very much missed Toronto, and while it's premature to say that any festival is all the way "back" after the pandemic, TIFF did its best to create a reasonable facsimile of its pre-Covid editions.

But because Toronto doesn't encompass everything that screened at other fall fests, I decided to put together the below rankings by including movies I've seen that premiered at Toronto or Telluride or Venice. (To further complicate things, I opted not to rank any films screened in Toronto that had bowed at Cannes back in May. You can see my rankings for Cannes 2022 right here.)

There were several strong movies near the top of my list, and no clear-cut "best," but for No. 1, I went with a bit of a surprise. Coming out of Venice, the reviews for Joanna Hogg's continuation of The Souvenir were polite but not exactly rapturous. So imagine my shock when I attended a 9am press screening of The Eternal Daughter and was fairly knocked out. The less one knows about this third chapter the better, but suffice it to say Tilda Swinton is remarkable. In a fair world, she and Cate Blanchett would be battling it out for acting prizes this awards season. But in life as in the movies, "fair" rarely factors into the equation.

Links lead to individual reviews. And, yes, The Greatest Beer Run Ever is as awful as you've heard.

31. The Greatest Beer Run Ever
30. Don't Worry Darling
29. Dalíland
28. My Policeman
27. Wendell & Wild
26. Butcher's Crossing
25. Blueback
24. Catherine Called Birdy
23. My Name Is Alfred Hitchcock
22. Athena
21. Weird: The Al Yankovic Story
20. Good Night Oppy
19. The Inspection
18. The Wonder
17. Louis Armstrong's Black & Blues
16. A Compassionate Spy
15. The Woman King
14. Pearl
13. Bros
12. Other People's Children
11. Viking
10. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery
9. Women Talking
8. Unruly
7. The Banshees of Inisherin
6. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed
5. Saint Omer
4. Tár
3. No Bears
2. The Fabelmans
1. The Eternal Daughter

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: The Best Films of the First Half of 2022

There are several movies I wasn't able to catch in time for this week's episode, which I'm not happy about, but nonetheless: Will and I both list our six favorites of 2022 so far. Hope you enjoy.

Cannes 2022: The Wrap-Up and the Rankings

An informal poll I conducted of colleagues who, like me, attended last year's pandemic-affected Cannes confirmed my suspicion: The 2021 installment was better than this one. Partly, it was the fact that there were fewer people around, making navigating the festival easier, and partly it was because the films were stronger. To be fair, the 2021 edition had, essentially, two years worth of movies to work from, which allowed for an extra helping of greatness. (Also, there were simply more films programmed in 2021 than this year.) But even so, 2022 yielded fewer terrific movies, although I am cognizant of having missed out on several pictures that were well-reviewed, including Aftersun, Corsage, Godland and The Blue Caftan. You spend 11 days watching movies, but there are still some you can't get to.

But if the highs of this year's slate weren't as high -- or as frequent -- then at least the lows weren't so low. Looking at my rankings, even the films at the very bottom of my list offered a few pleasures or some interesting ideas. There were no outright stinkers, and the truth is, I generally liked most of what I saw, even if my enthusiasm was often measured. That said, I know plenty of folks who strongly support Three Thousand Years of Longing, Elvis, Stars at Noon and Top Gun: Maverick, so my festival experience is no guarantee to have been anyone else's. That's part of the fun of being at Cannes.

So, without further ado, here are my rankings, including movies I'd seen prior to the festival. Links lead to individual reviews.

39. Three Thousand Years of Longing
38. Elvis
37. Stars at Noon
36. Father and Soldier
35. Remains of the Wind
34. Brother and Sister
33. The Innocent
32. Top Gun: Maverick
31. War Pony
30. Final Cut
29. Rebel
28. Mediterranean Fever
27. Our Brothers
26. Imagine
25. Funny Pages
24. Crimes of the Future
23. God's Creatures
22. Holy Spider
21. Smoking Causes Coughing
20. Jerry Lee Lewis: Trouble in Mind
19. Tchaikovsky's Wife
18. The Silent Twins
17. Hunt
16. Plan 75
15. The Eight Mountains
14. Moonage Daydream
13. Armageddon Time
12. Decision to Leave
11. Leila's Brothers
10. Triangle of Sadness
9. Men
8. All That Breathes
7. Close
6. Broker
5. Tori and Lokita
4. EO
3. R.M.N.
2. Showing Up
1. One Fine Morning

(If you'd like to be additionally annoyed that I didn't care for Top Gun: Maverick, let me point you to this essay I wrote for MEL about my misgivings about Maverick as a character.)

For me, there were two true standouts, one I saw at the beginning of the festival and one I saw at the very end. One of the unfortunate themes of this year's Cannes was world-class directors bringing less-than-world-class films to the Croisette, with everyone from Claire Denis to David Cronenberg being accused of not living up to their previous high-water marks. (Of course, this take was subjective as well: I was quite taken with Broker, generally considered a letdown from former Palme d'Or-winner Hirokazu Kore-eda, and I deeply dug Tori and Lokita and R.M.N., which proved that, respectively, the Dardenne brothers and Cristian Mungiu still have plenty to say.) But One Fine Morning, Mia Hansen-Love's just plain lovely look at a widowed mother (Lea Seydoux, wonderful), and Kelly Reichardt's deceptively simple Showing Up were clear outliers, finding their makers doing some of the best work of their illustrious careers. The only reason I think Showing Up should win the Palme is because One Fine Morning was in Director's Fortnight, which keeps it out of the running. (Why it wasn't in the official competition, which slotted Hansen-Love's slightly-less-great Bergman Island last year, is a mystery to me.)

The other prevailing theme of the 2022 edition was the glut of good-enough films. Not bad, not amazing, just ... good. I suspect a second viewing will add dimension to Park Chan-wook's densely plotted Decision to Leave or may make me appreciate James Gray's Armageddon Time more. That's the hope, anyway: If this Cannes wasn't filled with stunners, the movies certainly didn't lack for ambition, and sometimes a fresh perspective away from the rush-around of a festival can help. Maybe just maybe I'll even come around on Stars at Noon. 

And now, here's where I indulge my annual tradition of incorrectly guessing what's going to win the Palme d'Or. It's impossible to know, of course, because the nine people who make up the competition jury will be giving out the prizes, and it's not like they're talking to anyone. But in terms of possible victors, Lukas Dhont's late-arriving Close, which just got picked up by A24, could be a consensus choice, emotional and heartfelt. If the jury wants to go in a more career-achievement direction, Cronenberg could walk away with the prize for his audacious (I'm not sure entirely successful) "return to form" Crimes of the Future. Nostalgia has been the best-reviewed of the competition films I haven't seen, and Armageddon Time got such a warm reception at its premiere, which featured Grey getting choked up about what the movie means to him, that I think it has a shot as well. 

But ultimately I see the Palme going to either Close or Decision to Leave, with my pick being the former. Park is a revered filmmaker, and Decision to Leave is a Hitchcockian thriller that's inspired plenty of comparisons to Vertigo. It's a work of consummate craftsmanship that deals in obsession, both familiar and challenging at the same time. But Close makes people cry. I'm gonna go with tears.

And if Showing Up should somehow win? Well, that loud noise you'll hear on Saturday is me turning on my phone when my plane lands and letting out a cheer when I see the news.

The Grierson & Leitch Podcast: That New 'Scream' and the Most-Anticipated Movies of 2022

We're back! And we're disagreeing about Scream. Also, we talk about the films we're most excited about this year. Hear the whole thing down below.