ICO's Best of 2021

Posted on December 21, 2021 by ICO Staff

Categories: Best of the Year

The ICO team share their cinematic highlights of 2021. Let us know yours at @ICOtweets.

Duncan Carson, Projects and Business Manager

This year, I had a lot more opportunities to be in the presence of my beloved: the big screen. Even though I wouldn’t say that this was a vintage year for films, I had a great time simply sitting in a cinema, dipping my head into something other than compromised ‘normal’ life. So this is a list of ‘special screenings’ for me this year.

Pumping Iron II: The Ladies (dir. George Butler, 1985), programmed by Club des Femmes @ Rio, Dalston

It’s pretty rare I’ll go and see a sequel if I haven’t caught the original, but queer feminist collective Club des Femmes talked me into it. Not a film I’d have sought out, it’s the classic provocation of ‘make it matter to me’ that the best programming delivers on. An eye-opening picture about female bodybuilders, it was a delight to be with other people marvelling at the misogyny of the judges and the IDGAF-attitude of these remarkable women.

Goodbye, Dragon Inn (dir. Tsai Ming-liang, 2003) @ BFI Southbank

From a film I enjoyed because of the context to a film I enjoyed despite it. ‘Intro by Peter Strickland’ sold me that this was my chance to see Tsai Ming-Liang’s elegy for the vanishing cinemas of Taipei. Mr Strickland joins us on stage. It turns out this wasn’t his first choice of screening; he hasn’t seen the film; doesn’t want to be drawn into talking about his own experience working in cinemas or his views on Tsai’s other films… and won’t be watching the film tonight because he’s got to catch a train. A reminder that when you’re dealing with raw life, not everything goes to plan. Still, the film itself is irresistible and a thoughtful take on the life that circulates through cinemas. And if you want an excellent take on the film, look no further than Nick Pinkerton’s superb monograph, one of my books of the year.

Smooth Talk (dir. Joyce Chopra, 1985)

This is more of a ‘I wished I’d seen it in the cinema’ entry. While watching it at home was a delight, nothing would have matched the crackle of seeing the third act rug-pulling on the big screen. Up there with Audition for marching off into unexpected – but entirely earned – territory, this deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as the great coming-of-age films, plus Laura Dern spreading her wings.

The Koker Trilogy (dir. Abbas Kiarostami, 1987 – 1994)

I spent the first lockdown of this year looking after my wife’s grandmother as she recuperated from hip surgery. A passionate cinephile (and avid attendee of ICO client Hebden Bridge Picture House), she passed over the more middle-brow fare I pushed in her direction (Dark Horse? Pah!), in favour of some more advanced viewing. Three nights in a row, ploughing through Abbas Kiarostami’s formally rigorous, gently philosophical meditations on Iranian rural life and the practice of filmmaking was a real treat, and also a gentle reminder (to me, as much as everyone else in the film industry) not to patronise older audiences. Let’s try and remember that when it comes to Downton Abbey 2, eh?

Illustrious Corpses (dir. Francesco Rosi, 1976)

A friend I hadn’t seen for several months, a film we’d both been trying to see for several years, a few pints pre-show… What I saw of Francesco Rosi mordant police procedural was absolutely superb. However, a draining week and the aforementioned beers conspired for me to miss healthy chunks of the proceedings. ‘Ah, never mind. I’ll just re-watch it online… not available anywhere?’ Sometimes you’ve got to be chastened to realise there are experiences you just had to be there (or be awake for) to count…

James Calver, Projects and Events Officer

I realised as I was writing up this list that my picks were feeling very weighted towards the end of 2021 – something that is fairly normal when I can’t remember what on earth I watched in January (shout out to Letterboxd). This year however it felt more obvious than ever before, which feels like a hint towards how releases played out this year. The best content that I saw in the first half of the year was mainly straight to streaming, such as Summer of Soul. What this has led to though is begrudgingly trying to cut down about 20 films from the past few months into seven or so slots.

My other favourite thing about this list is looking back at the titles that I knew were coming and never ever thought would make it into my Top 10. Coming from a republican family I never expected to see Spencer on my list. Nor did I expect to have to argue that a 90-minute Netflix comedy special deserves a place on the list over what could be deemed more ‘classic’ cinema, but I guess neither of these are the strangest things to happen this year!

All that being said, here’s the top ten films I saw this year in no particular order:

  • Titane (dir. Julia Ducournau)
  • Pleasure (dir. Ninja Thyberg)
  • Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma)
  • Dune (dir. Denis Villeneuve)
  • Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn (dir. Radu Jude)
  • Spencer (dir. Pablo Larraín)
  • Minari (dir. Lee Isaac Chung)
  • Bo Burnham: Inside (dir. Bo Burnham)
  • Another Round (dir. Thomas Vinterberg)
  • Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (dir. Questlove)
A man with a red cap and a spade in one hand kneels next to a young child and holds an arm around his shoulder. They stand in a grassy field looking straight ahead at something out of sight.
Minari (dir. Lee Isaac Chung, 2020). Image courtesy of Altitude.
Isabel Moir, Film Programmer

There were so many films released this year which I loved and hope they will continue to find audiences despite limited release during this very challenging year for cinemas. In no particular order, I have listed below my favourite films released this year that have stayed with me.

  • Drive My Car (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
  • First Cow (dir. Kelly Reichardt)
  • The Invisible Life of Eurídice Gusmão (dir. Karim Aïnouz)
  • Shiva Baby (dir. Emma Seligman)
  • Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (dir. Questlove)
  • The Nest (dir. Sean Durkin)
  • Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma)
  • After Love (dir. Aleem Khan)
  • Limbo (dir. Ben Sharrock)
  • The Power of the Dog (dir. Jane Campion)

There are also many films I have seen this year which I am so excited about seeing again when they are finally released in 2022. These include Ali & Ava (dir. Clio Bernard), A Night of Knowing Nothing (dir. Payal Kapadi), Flee (dir. Jonas Poher Rasmussen), The Worst Person in the World (dir. Joachim Trier) and Memoria (dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul).

Several people stand on a hilltop in front of a house, looking at something (with a look of concern) ahead of them, out of sight.
Limbo (dir. Ben Sharrock, 2020). Image courtesy of MUBI.
Eliza Sealy, Trainee Film Programmer

Favourite 2021 films by BIPOC directors

After the BLM protests of 2020, there has been an increased focus on amplifying the voices of BIPOC filmmakers and audiences, and the need to create an inclusive industry and a representative cinematic environment. However, with so many titles being released each week it is easy for films to get lost within the release schedule. I thought it necessary to shine a light on and celebrate the impressive talent of BIPOC storytellers. In no particular order, these are the films that made me laugh, made me cry and made me very excited for what is still to come.

  • Ear for Eye (dir. debbie tucker green)
  • The Gravedigger’s Wife (dir. Khadar Ayderus Ahmed)
  • King Richard (dir. Reinaldo Marcus Green)
  • Balloon (dir. Pema Tseden)
  • Summer of Soul (…or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (dir. Questlove)
  • After Love (dir. Aleem Khan)
  • Through the Night (dir. Loira Limbal)
  • You Will Die at Twenty (dir. Amjad Abu Alala)
  • Night of the Kings (dir. Philippe Lacôte)
  • MLK/FBI (dir. Sam Pollard)

Films with a 2022 release 

  • Lingui, the Sacred Bonds (dir. Mahamat-Saleh Haroun)
  • Clara Sola (dir. Nathalie Álvarez Mesén)
  • Memoria (dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul)
A woman wearing a black cloak stands with her eyes shut among a crowd of people wearing white robes which cover them from head to toe, and red fezzes on their heads.
You Will Die at Twenty (dir. Amjad Abu Alala, 2019). Image courtesy of New Wave Films.
Heather McIntosh, Film Programmer

Due to further Covid restrictions, film-watching in 2021 has once again felt quite divided between having to watch films at home and being allowed back to the cinema, so I’ve cheated the system and made two lists this year: my top ten films enjoyed at home, and, you guessed it, my top ten enjoyed at the cinema. The titles in my first list are all films I watched for the first time this year. All films are listed in the order I watched them rather than order of preference.

Top ten films watched at home:

  1. The Pleasure of Being Robbed (dir. Josh Safdie, 2008)
    I love the Safdie Brothers so always get nervous before watching a film of theirs I’ve not seen before, just in case it disappoints me. This one didn’t. I watched it on a dreary January evening in lockdown and came out the other side feeling better for it.
  2. The Long Goodbye (dir. Robert Altman, 1973)
    Filled a crucial gap in my knowledge with this one. Even better than I expected – drifting cameras, lingering close-ups, fades, overlays, out of this world décor and Elliott Gould being cool as hell.
  3. Showgirls (dir. Paul Verhoeven, 1975)
    I had the time of my life watching this. Aside from a scene I found questionable at the end, it was so excessive and fun. Will definitely be entering the rotation of films I re-watch every few years.
  4. Creep (dir. Patrick Brice, 2014)
    I whacked this on as a ‘going to bed’ film I didn’t expect to pay much attention to, but it’s such a good horror film that I immediately watched Creep 2 after I’d finished it (not as good, in my opinion). I’d seen Language Lessons (2021) only a couple of weeks before seeing this and it made me realise I’m quite endeared to Mark Duplass’s weirdo vibe, even when he’s playing a ‘creep’.
  5. Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma, 2021)
    Céline Sciamma is one of my favourite filmmakers working today, and as a big advocate of sub-90 minute films, this 72 minute fairy-tale exploring a mother-daughter bond absolutely blew me away and is hands down one of my favourite films of the year. I watched it as part of Berlinale’s at home offering and wrote about it in more detail here. It was released by MUBI on 19 November of this year.
  6. Flee (dir. Jonas Poher Rasmussen, 2021)
    Another Berlinale film watched from home. It’s a sensitively-handled and urgent animated documentary about an Afghan man who seeks refuge in both Russia and Denmark, looking at the upheaval he’s faced throughout his life as he tries to find some basic sense of security. It’s released on 11 February 2022 by Curzon.
  7. North By Current (dir. Angelo Madsen Minax, 2021)
    In this essay-style documentary, North By Current explores loss, fractious familial bonds, and the directors own experience of transitioning. It’s a deeply touching and personal work which you can also read more about in this Berlinale round-up.
  8. Beans (dir. Tracey Deer, 2020)
    This coming-of-age drama about a young indigenous girl coming to terms with her identity played in our Young Audiences Screening Days event this summer, and will be featured on our online platform, The Cinema of Ideas, next year. Again, you can read more about this title here.
  9. The Goodbye Girl (dir. Herbert Ross, 1977)
    Maybe one of the greatest romcoms I’ve ever seen? Richard Dreyfuss and Marsha Mason’s onscreen chemistry is incredible and I was beaming from ear to ear throughout. One of the most endearing films ever!
  10. Punishment Park (dir. Peter Watkins, 1971)
    For a film that was made half a century ago, it’s alarming how relevant its themes still feel. I watched this just after many people – predominantly women – had been violently dispersed by the police at a vigil in Sarah Everard’s memory, and it really hit home how little had changed in terms of the ruthless pursuit of power by the state, and the violent ways it reacts to any perceived threat to that power. A remarkable film.
An animated still showing a man lying on his back on a patterned rug, looking up (concerned) straight at us.
Flee (dir. Jonas Poher Rasmussen, 2021). Image courtesy of Curzon Artificial Eye.

Top ten films watched in the cinema:

  1. Magnificent Obsession (dir. Douglas Sirk, 1959)
    I saw this at the BFI in May – my first film back in the cinema since March 2020, so it’s a really lovely memory in my mind. On 35mm too!
  2. Jazz on a Summer’s Day (dir. Aram Avakian, Bert Stern, 1959)
    This was my first exhibitor screening back in person after watching a lot of screening links in my room. It was great to see a film with such life – documenting music, connection, and good times after a long period of disconnection as a consequence of Covid restrictions.
  3. Nashville (dir. Robert Altman, 1975)
    Another one at the BFI and the first time I’d ever seen this, I thought it was incredible and further increased my love for Lily Tomlin.
  4. Compartment No. 6 (dir. Juho Kuosmanen, 2021)
    One of those films I went into with zero expectation and came out floored by. A story of loneliness and unlikely connection set on a train carriage in Russia. There’s a genuine warmth to the main characters’ relationship which I found really touching. Released by Curzon on 1 April 2022.
  5. King Richard (dir. Reinaldo Marcus Green, 2021)
    I didn’t know what to expect from this, but it was such a delight. A feel-good audience-pleaser that had the whole cinema laughing and applauding. One of the euphoric collective reactions you can only experience in the cinema. Warner Brothers released on 19 November this year.
  6. The Nowhere Inn (dir. Bill Benz, 2021)
    I went to see this with a friend at the Barbican and had such a fun night. I love Carrie Brownstein, so I got to fangirl over her while learning more about St. Vincent, who I’ve since got quite into! There was a Zoom Q&A with her at the end which really amped up my enjoyment of the film. An interesting and funny mockumentary about the blurred lines between where the performer ends and the person behind it begins.
  7. Chungking Express (dir. Wong Kar-wai, 1995)
    I would happily listen to the handful of tracks on this soundtrack on repeat, even without the great film attached to it, so I loved seeing this at the Prince Charles. The first time I’d ever seen it!
  8. Spencer (dir. Pablo Larraín, 2021)
    I loved this so much. I’m a huge fan of Larraín, Kristen Stewart, camp cinema, and fascinated with the dark energy of the Royal Family’s workings, so I came out of this a satisfied customer.
  9. A Night of Knowing Nothing (dir. Payal Kapadia, 2021)
    Isabel (another Film Programmer at the ICO) invited me to see this and I’m so glad she did. A Night of Knowing Nothing was the opening film at ICA’s Film Festival – Frames of Representation – and is an experimental documentary about the student protests in India. It plays with form while delivering an urgent political message in a film which feels both delicate and sensitively-handled. We saw the film after attending a really insightful ICO Core Skills for Cinemas session on Programming Artists’ Moving Image with George Clark – one of those happy accidents that meant I felt much more engaged with the work when I came to see it.
  10. Possession (dir. Andrzej Żuławski, 2021)
    This is one of the film discoveries I recall most fondly from my early 20s, so it was incredible to finally see it in the cinema after buying it from HMV on a whim in 2011. Thank you, Prince Charles Cinema!
Compartment No. 6 (dir, Juho Kuosmanen, 2021). Image courtesy of Curzon Artificial Eye.
Patrick Stewart, Marketing and Communications Manager

Three films I loved in 2021

Being back! So great to be back in the cinema after the enforced break – after many years working in one, I’m very grumpy and restless when I have to watch films at home. Here’s a few of my picks from this year’s releases, but there’s also lots of films I was lucky enough to see at Autumn Screening Days that I’m bursting to talk about but aren’t out until the New Year.

Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma, 2021)

A cinema quote that lingers with me is Tommy Lee Jones as Sheriff Ed Tom Bell in No Country for Old Men speaking of dreams of his father, ‘I’m older now then he ever was by twenty years. So in a sense he’s the younger man.’  The gulf in time that separates us from our parents and forebears was imaginatively bridged in Céline Sciamma’s strange, delicate fairy tale Petite Maman. Sciamma is, as ever, extraordinary in teasing out performances from young actors. The exploration of the parent-child relationship as one of equals and the imaginative possibilities the film explores left myself and several other people around me sobbing.

The Power of the Dog (dir. Jane Campion, 2021)

After two disappointing trips to the London Film Festival in as many days, the third time was a charm. This complex and tense drama of rage and buried desires was the perfect antidote to a short run of festival disappointment.

One from Archive Screening Days: Kummatty (dir. Govindan Aravindan, 1979)

I was entranced by this new restoration of G. Aravindan’s Kummatty that tells a Pied-Piper like folk-tale of a strange visitor to the village – the Kummatty, translated as The Bogeyman. The music and song swept me through the gorgeously captured landscape along with the village children who fall under his spell. Magic, and not the special effects kind, is there in all its wondrous and terrifying ambivalence. Alongside Petite Maman, maybe I’m becoming a devoted fan of complex fairy tale filmmaking?

A young child wearing a yellow shirt crouches next to a pool of water, looking down at their reflection.
Kummatty (dir. Govindan Aravindan, 1979)
Sami Abdul-Razzak, Marketing Officer 

I decided to use this space to write about some of my favourite viewings of the year, regardless of whether the films are old or new, or whether seen in the cinema or at home.

The Up series (dir. Michael Apted, Paul Almond, 1964 – 2019)

I first heard about the Up series of films around the time that Boyhood was released, as critics compared Richard Linklater’s method of filming the same actors over a long period of time (in that film, about 12 years) with the documentary series’ conceit of following a group of people throughout their lives, beginning at the age of seven and checking in every seven years. Intrigued, I made a mental note to watch these films one day, but it wasn’t until the sad passing of Michael Apted (director of the films from the second installment onwards) in January that I finally decided to seek them out.

I ended up hooked on them. My Letterboxd account informs me that I watched the nine feature-length episodes (from 1964’s Seven Up! to the most recent installment, 2019’s 63 Up) between the 17 January and the 6 February, only interrupting my progress with a solitary viewing of Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, and I don’t think anything I’ve watched since has affected me in quite the same way. Seeing these people change over time (sometimes in shocking ways) from childhood and adolescence to adult life and parenthood, and seeing how their aspirations and expectations of life alter, is an extremely powerful and introspective experience. I still find myself thinking about them, all these months on.

The Moon and the Sledgehammer (dir. Philip Trevelyan, 1971)

Since April 2020, Sight & Sound has been sending out a weekly film bulletin every Friday at 3pm. Each edition includes a top ten ballot for the Sight & Sound Greatest Films of All Time poll from a filmmaker or critic, and each week I eagerly open the email to see what they voted for, noting down anything that sounds interesting. It was in Andrew Kötting’s ballot that I came across a film called The Moon and the Sledgehammer.

The film follows the eccentric Page family, composed of an elderly, intimidating patriarch and his four adult children. The year is 1969 and the family live off-grid in the Sussex woodlands, without electricity or running water. The moon landing will be taking place in a matter of weeks, but the men of the family spend their time tinkering with archaic steam engines, driving them around the woods to no apparent purpose. I found it completely fascinating, partly as a study of an unusual family, but also as a provocation to think about the way we live and whether it has to be like that. You can watch it here.

Tokyo Olympiad (dir. Kon Ichikawa, 1964)

Being readily available to watch on the Olympic Games’ official website, I had been been planning to watch Kon Ichikawa’s documentary epic about the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games at some point this year anyway, so when I saw that a 4K restoration was playing at the Barbican as part of the 2021 Japanese Avant-Garde and Experimental Film Festival, I jumped at the chance to see it on the big screen. While I wouldn’t say it’s a particularly experimental film, it is certainly an artfully-made documentary and a fascinating historical document. The striking first section of the film, which depicts the run-up to the event and the opening ceremony, would be one of my cinematic highlights of the year on its own.

The Afterlight (dir. Charlie Shackleton, 2021)

The Afterlight is composed of clips from hundreds of films and features a cast of actors with one thing in common: they’re no longer alive. On top of this, the film itself exists as a single 35mm print – as it circulates it will degrade and eventually it too will disappear. These two bits of information were all I needed to hop on a train down to Brighton to catch the next screening, which was taking place at the Duke of York’s Picturehouse as part of this year’s CINECITY Festival. As well as being a cinephile’s dream, the film acts as a poignant tribute to these lives on film, and I think the screening will remain one of my fondest cinema trips for a long time to come. I was pleased we were able to screen it at this year’s Archive Screening Days, and I hope that its inclusion there will help lead to future showings around the UK. You can keep up to date with upcoming screenings here.

A black and white image showing a neon sign on a brick wall which reads: The Afterlight
The Afterlight (dir. Charlie Shackleton, 2021)

The Metamorphosis of Birds (dir. Catarina Vasconcelos, 2020)

As I scrolled through the programme of this year’s online Borderlines Film Festival, my attention was drawn to an intriguing title: The Metamorphosis of Birds. I had not heard of it, but the images online looked nice and the synopsis (while mysterious in parts: “Beatriz, who learned everything from how plants grow vertically”) sounded interesting, so I gave it a try. Happily, it ended up being one of my favourite viewings of the year.

Portugese director Catarina Vasconcelos employs poetic narration and dream-like imagery to create a beautiful tribute to her family, as she explores the bond with her father and the premature deaths of her mother and grandmother. Despite being quick to cry in general, I never anticipated that a filmmaker could use the concept of entropy to wet my cheeks, but somehow Vasconcelos did it. I don’t think it has a confirmed UK release date yet, though I think it will be hitting cinema screens courtesy of New Wave sometime soon.

And finally, here are some of my favourite new releases (in no particular order):

  • C’mon C’mon (dir. Mike Mills)
  • Uprising (dir. Steve McQueen, James Rogan)
  • Drive My Car (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
  • Dune (dir. Denis Villeneuve)
  • Limbo (dir. Ben Sharrock)
  • Minari (dir. Lee Isaac Chung)
  • Can’t Get You Out of My Head (dir. Adam Curtis)
  • The Power of the Dog (dir. Jane Campion)
  • Gunda (dir. Viktor Kossakovsky)
  • Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma)
  • Nomadland (dir. Chloé Zhao)

From everyone at the ICO, we wish you a very Happy New Year and hope to see you in the cinema soon.

Header image: Flee (dir. Jonas Poher Rasmussen, 2021). Image courtesy of Curzon Artificial Eye.

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