It’s an experience familiar to most of us. You’re catching up with a friend, one thing leads to another, and the conversation shifts toward art and then to movies, prompting your friend to tell you about the most amazing film they saw recently. Now you listen, maybe write it down on your Notes app or add it to your watchlist on Letterboxd and forget about it. The unpredictability of life grabs you by the collar and you lose grip of the film.
Flash forward a few months and you finally have a night to yourself. You’re scrolling through your go-to streaming service and come across the film, the one your friend couldn’t stop talking about. You decide to watch it, ignoring your friend’s excitement toward it and going in with low expectations. However, you end up becoming entranced in this movie. You feel a connection with the characters and world of this film and, by the time the credits begin to roll, you feel like a new person. You finally understand your friend’s love for this movie.
The beauty of cinema is that there’s so much of it already made and being made, meaning you are bound to discover something magical. So, inspired by Screen Slate’s list, here are our writers’ favorite first-watches from 2022.
‘A Slightly Pregnant Man’ (1964)
On a winter night, I was desperately rummaging through various Letterboxd lists when I stumbled upon Jacques Demy’s “A Slightly Pregnant Man.” A fan of Demy’s absurdist humor, I was intrigued, but when I saw that golden 96-minute runtime, I was sold. We follow a driving instructor, Marco Mazzetti (Marcello Mastroianni), who, after a series of symptoms, goes to the doctor and discovers that he is four months pregnant.
From the wide range of reactions — some doctors compare its significance to the moon landing while their friends ask “when’s it due?” — to the maternity clothes company that decides to create a men’s maternity fashion line with Marco, “A Slightly Pregnant Man” was one of the funniest and most engaging films I’ve seen all year. The punchline is never Marco’s pregnancy, which is why the film is so great. The film is wildly entertaining while also effortlessly dealing with themes that are far ahead of its time: gender politics and reproductive rights to name a few. Demy is a master of surrealism and “A Slightly Pregnant Man” is only more evidence of his expertise.
— Daniel Rosen, Staff Writer
‘Boogie Nights’ (1997)
After arriving home finished with my freshman year of college and free from the clutches of homework and deadlines, I wanted to kick off my summer by watching some appropriate party-filled flicks to get me in the right mood. I stumbled across Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Boogie Nights,” and little did I know I’d find my favorite movie of the ’90s.
Following the rise and fall of a reckless pornstar in the ’70s, the film’s color, music and surprising honesty stunned me as I expected a surface-level dosage of psychedelic fun. There were psychedelics involved, alright, but also a devastating portrait of the vicious cash-grabbing reality of the entertainment industry in the decade we now consider so groovy and carefree. Full of stunning and color-filled visuals as well as well-acted roles and music so catchy you can’t help but dance as you watch, “Boogie Nights” has never a dull moment. The only bad thing about the film is that Mark Wahlberg plays the main role — an unfortunate casting for a character as smoothly charming and emotionally dynamic as Dirk Diggler the pornstar.
— Nathan Rubin, Film/TV Desk
‘Nobody Knows’ (2004)
I have always been a fan of the Japanese director Kore-eda Hirokazu for his slow-paced movies that explore social and cultural topics in Japan. During the pandemic lockdown, I bumped into his Cannes-winning film “Nobody Knows” that followed the story of four abandoned children. After their mother left them in a small apartment, they had to make a living on their own while facing misunderstandings from others and death among themselves.
The film was based on the real 1988 Sugamo child abandonment case, but Hirokazu did not scream against the unjust social care system or emotionally enlarge the misery of the children. Instead, he depicted everything as happening in everyday life and allowed very restricted acting. This shows that despite the degree of misery and the seemingly caring publicity about the case, nobody will ever know the tragedy of the children. Hirokazu did not emphasize the tragedy of the children with cries or shoutings, but simply focused his lens on daily scenes filled with struggles that no one cares for. In this way, Hirokazu posed a serious question to society: how do we help the miserable submerged in the most insignificant aspects of daily life?
— Amiee Zhao, Staff Writer
‘Body Melt’ (1993)
I love body horror. Not only does the subgenre offer beautifully disgusting works of art in the form of oozing, mutated abominations, but is also the source of rich themes and symbolism to accompany these monstrosities, such as sexuality and fears of pregnancy. And, it’s this fascination that led me to discover what I believe to be one of the best body horror films of all time: “Body Melt.”
This Ozploitation film follows an experimental supplement company and a Melbourne suburb whose residents become test subjects for their newest products. Although “Body Melt” isn’t technically an anthology, the movie is broken up into vignettes that focus on each family in the community. This structure is likely due to the fact that the film is an adaptation of four short stories by director Philip Brophy, but this setup helps to keep the viewer engaged and invested in the deteriorating lives of these families. Of course, this engagement is also supported by the sheer amount of practical effects, which encapsulates all of what the body horror genre has to offer: vigorously waving tentacles, bloated organs and piles and piles of green goo. “Body Melt” is a fun horror comedy that will leave you both laughing and feeling nauseous.
— Eythen Anthony, Arts and Entertainment Editor
‘Titanic’ (1997)
James Cameron’s epic romance took the world by storm when it came out, and I have grown up hearing the story of my parents’ first time watching it. To abbreviate their tall tale: they rented the movie from Blockbuster, started playing it at home, and, just as they were crying and watching Rose and Jack try to survive in the ice cold waters of the Atlantic, the DVD cut out. They rushed back to Blockbuster, one minute from closing, and begged the guy to stay open so they could just rent a new copy of the DVD.
Lucky for me, I watched this movie for the very first time this year on a streaming service a bit more reliable than a DVD, and I was indeed bawling. For a movie that has an ending we all probably know by now, I was shocked at how much it was still able to surprise me. The production quality alone, including the adrenaline-pumping camera angles and haunting soundtrack, gave the movie an undeniable allure. Cameron’s commitment to using innovative filming techniques, and his affinity for water, was evident throughout “Titanic,” whether it be the background shots of the smooth-sailing ship or the nail-biting scenes of Rose and Jack’s attempts to escape the ever-rising waters.
As “My Heart Will Go On” played through the credits, I sat in silence, marveling at how a story told over and over again in history classes could be so beautifully humanized. Much like this year, “Titanic,” is a movie filled with both sorrow and hope, love and despair. This movie reminded me not to forget that, amid the tragedy we are inundated with in the news each year, we must not forget the people who live through each of those moments.
— Zimra Chickering, Staff Writer
‘Possession’ (1981)
I stumbled across Andrzej Żuławski’s “Possession” when I was on a bit of a Sam Neill kick earlier this year. I was fresh off “The Piano” (1993) and absolutely nothing could have prepared me for the stunning, mind-bending story of Mark (Sam Neill) and Anna (Isabelle Adjani) whose marriage begins to fall apart as Anna begins exhibiting increasingly irrational behavior.
This is not a subtle film. It takes the domestic drama and mediates it through the genre of body horror. The visceral pain of a growing hatred between two former lovers becomes personified into something gross and terrifying. This monster makes the viewer’s skin crawl like any good body horror film, but also evokes the kind of hurt that these two people have inflicted upon each other. The acting performances from Neill and Adjani are captivatingly intense and painfully raw. This couple’s breakdown is a violent and cataclysmic shattering of their domestic bliss. It is a brutal and bloody meditation on the wounds we can inflict on each other and ourselves.
– Bridget Mackie, Staff Writer
‘Amélie’ (2001)
Knowing little about the film when I started it, I was immediately hooked by the humorous, quick-paced voiceover and cinematography in the first few scenes. A comedy-drama with elements of magical realism and absurdism, the French film “Amélie” directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet follows 23-year old Amélie (Audrey Tautou) on her adventures to spread joy to strangers as a way of escaping her boredom and loneliness, beginning when she discovers an old box and sets about returning it to its owner.
The city of Paris doubles as setting and character, creating a whimsical atmosphere that charms through its dream-like escapism. Amélie’s ‘life’s what you make of it’ approach almost made me forget that she, too, faced her own share of challenges. With the help of a memorable score, interesting characters and fun visuals, Amélie radiates optimism and is at times intentionally idealistic. This aspect makes for a great comfort film when you need a reminder of the beauty in small acts.
– Mitali Singh, Assistant Arts and Entertainment Editor
