Year in Review: Top 10 Performances of 2020

By now, we know the theme of this year-in-review project is more what is missing than what is here. Among the acclaimed performances I have yet to see are Frances McDormand in Nomadland, Carey Mulligan in Promising Young Woman, and Steven Yeun in Minari. There are others, and I look forward to catching up with all of them in the months to come. None of that, however, takes away from the tremendous work I was able to see in 2020 and which we celebrate below.

First, five more excellent performances that I saw in 2020 that did not quite make the top 10 (alphabetically): Radha Blank in The 40-Year-Old Version; Julia Garner in The Assistant; Jude Law in The Nest; Noémie Merlant in Portrait of a Lady on Fire; Shaun Parkes in Small Axe.

The Top 10:

10. Carrie Coon as Allison O’Hara in The Nest

Carrie Coon, so good in her smaller film roles over the years and as the star of HBO’s The Leftovers, finally gets a role in which she can unleash the full breadth of her talents. As a woman who slowly realizes the depths of her husband’s delusions and the faulty foundation on which her life has been built, she is tremendous. Coon lets the character’s quiet reserve fester until it explodes into fury and that fury precipitates action as Allison takes back her life.

9. Sharlene Whyte as Agnes Smith in Small Axe

The underrated final portion of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe, Education, is a searing indictment of “educationally suboptimal schools” in the UK, where mostly children of color are sent by a white school system that no longer wants anything to do with them. Sharlene Whyte is phenomenal as a mother who learns of the “education” her son is receiving at his school and resolves to do something about it. Whyte never softens the character’s harder edges, depicting a woman whose life may be difficult but who will go to any lengths for the welfare of her children. 

8. Delroy Lindo as Paul in Da 5 Bloods

Delroy Lindo has been in movies and on television for more than 45 years, but too rarely has he been the lead, and never has he been given a character of this much nuance and depth. Lindo brings great pathos to the character of a Trump-supporting Vietnam vet suffering from PTSD who loses his mind in the jungle. The lengthy monologue he delivers directly to the camera toward the end of the film is among the finest pieces of acting of this or any other year, and Lindo makes it look effortless.

7. Adèle Haenel as Heloïse in Portrait of a Lady on Fire

It would be difficult to argue against Adèle Haenel as the finest actress working in French cinema today. The 32-year-old Parisian is a seven-time Caesar Award nominee (the French Oscars equivalent) and two-time winner. She has been great in everything from minor roles to leads, and as the repressed muse of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, she makes the case for global superstardom. Whether she wants it or not is up to her, but the strength and passion of this performance are proof enough that there is nothing to hold her back.

6. Viola Davis as Ma Rainey in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Viola Davis can do anything. I do not mean that only in the acting sense. I feel like you could ask her to perform surgery and she would do a fine job of it. Such is the intelligence and confidence she imbues all of her characters with, and Ma Rainey is just further evidence. Ma Rainey is a woman who knows her worth and refuses to settle for less than her due, and like the great jazz performers depicted in the film, Davis uses all the notes in the scale to bring the character to life.

5. Elisabeth Moss as Cecilia Kass in The Invisible Man

From Florence Pugh in Midsommar to Lupita Nyong’o in Us to Toni Collette in Hereditary, horror films have given us some of the most extraordinary performances by actresses in recent years. I am not sure what it says about the industry for that to be true -- or rather, I could not speculate in this small space -- but whatever the reason, the genre continues to offer up complex, powerful female leads that are missing from so much of the rest of cinema.

Of course, it requires great performers to take advantage of these characters, and Elisabeth Moss has shown time and again that she is one of the finest performers we have. The role of Cecilia could be that of a typical scream queen in a lesser movie, but Moss and the filmmakers are committed to showing the character’s slow descent into madness and finally her rise to empowerment. Moss is expert at depicting every frayed nerve in her character as Cecelia is hunted and terrorized but never loses sight of the inner strength she possesses.

4. Renée Elise Goldsberry as Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton

Any single member of the featured cast of Hamilton could appear on this list. They are all uniformly superb. Renée Elise Goldsberry, however, makes such an impression when she is on stage that the character of Angelica casts a large shadow over the entire show, despite appearing in relatively little of the lengthy production. “Satisfied” is a show-stopping number in every sense of the word, commanding the audience’s full attention as Angelica rewinds the clock and tells part of the story from her perspective.

It is one of the more experimental flourishes in the Broadway smash, but with Goldsberry at its center, we are with it every step of the way. The performance is a vocal masterclass, with Goldsberry using every syllable like a painter uses brush strokes. What the film version makes clear, though, is the depth of the portrayal. The pain, the regret, the betrayal, the forgiveness, Goldsberry has internalized the character to the point where it exists in the smallest movements, as well as the grandest flourishes. 

3. Riz Ahmed as Ruben in Sound of Metal

From his work in the blackly comic satire Four Lions to the deranged phantasmagoria that was Nightcrawler, two things have always been abundantly clear about RIz Ahmed: He is a wonderfully physical performer and an intensely smart performer. Ruben, a heavy metal drummer losing his hearing, requires both of those traits, and Ahmed absolutely shines.

Ruben’s life is dedicated to movement, whether physically behind the drum kit or geographically while on tour. There is no stillness, so when he becomes figuratively imprisoned by the loss of his hearing, he reacts like an animal caged. He knows he needs help, but he cannot quiet his mind long enough to ask for the kind of help he truly needs. Ahmed executes all of this with Newtonian precision: He is a body at motion that wants to remain in motion, but he cannot stop the outside forces of life.

2. Sidney Flanigan as Autumn in Never Rarely Sometimes Always

We talked about that scene last time in our Quotes and Moments column, but go back and watch it again. It cannot be overstated how much Sidney Flanigan is doing in that moment to bring us into Autumn’s world, as she relives all the traumas and disappointments of a short but brutal life. Eliza Hittman’s camera never looks away, which means the audience never looks away, as Autumn breaks down before our very eyes. Through it all, Flanigan, the 22-year-old first-time film actress, never steps wrong.

The film, though, is more than a single scene, and Flanigan’s performance is more than a single moment. Autumn’s breakdown would not hit as hard for us if Flanigan had not invested the time and work into all the small moments that come before it. She creates a character of strength and resolve, forced to protect herself, like so many others, by putting up seemingly insurmountable emotional walls. Flanigan builds these walls so skillfully that when they do come down, as they must, it is shattering.

1. Chadwick Boseman as Levee in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

It might be tempting in some corners to call this a stunt, to suggest Chadwick Boseman’s tragic death in some way contributed to his placement at No. 1 here. That temptation, however, would only occur to folks who have not seen this movie. As good as one might hope Boseman would be in his final onscreen appearance, he is better. This is a performer doing career-best work, working at the peak of his skills, and we are left wondering only how high the peak could have gotten.

In Da 5 Bloods, Boseman plays a soldier, but it is here as Levee where he feels like a man at war -- at war with himself, at war with those around him, at war with the world. He fights, using every ounce of strength within him, to put on a show for all to see. The swagger, the shoes, even the music, it all hides the pain he dares not show. Finally, when that pain is released, it is like a crack opening in the very crust of the earth, and he spews the red-hot magma of his rage over everyone and everything in his vicinity.

Of course, it begins with August Wilson’s beautiful words, but there is a short list of actors talented enough to bring their full depth into the open. James Earl Jones could do it. Denzel Washington could do it. And here, Chadwick Boseman has done it. The “Your god ain’t shit” monologue deserves to go down in history with the great film speeches. Boseman makes it equal parts frightening and pained. Simply, it is the kind of work great actors do, and damn was he great.

Year in Review: What is a ‘2020 Movie’ anyway?

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Another way to phrase that headline would be: What is a movie in 2020 anyway? In one sense, what I mean is which movies would be eligible for “best of the year” consideration in a year as strange as 2020? In another sense, however, I mean to ask what we even mean anymore when we talk about film. Is it the theater? Is the pedigree of the artists? Is there some magical, mysterious force that confers importance upon a project such that we deem it “cinema?”

Famous culture critics such as Matt Zoller Seitz and Alan Sepinwall have raged against the debate between cinema and television for years, particularly when a director like David Lynch suggests the third season of his show Twin Peaks should actually be considered an 18-hour movie. Such a suggestion implies a certain embarrassment at the prospect of having made television instead of film. That is, of course, silly. Breaking Bad may be one of the finest pieces of art of the 21st century. It is definitively television, and it is decidedly better and more important that 90 percent of what we might call cinema.

If it were ever important at all to distinguish the two, the difference between film and television used to be relatively clear in my mind. Movies played in theaters. Television played at home on TV. With the rise of streaming and the seeming de-emphasis of the cinema, though, the lines get blurrier and blurrier, and the noise on both sides of the debate gets louder and louder.

It is funny even to frame it as a debate. The stakes are low, there is no right answer, and no one wins a prize for convincing anyone of anything. Anyway, for most folks, the distinction is academic. If you can watch it and enjoy it, does it matter if it is film or television or some weird hybrid in between or none of the above? No, but around here, we like to make academic distinctions.

So, we will not frame this as a debate --  I feel no need to convince you, and you should feel no need to change your mind -- but rather a discussion in four parts.

Case study No. 1: Portrait of a Lady on Fire

You may recall hearing a lot about Céline Sciamma’s brilliant romance around this time last year. The film debuted at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival then opened in theaters in November 2019 for a one-week Academy Awards qualifying run. It received no nominations, but the critics and few audience members who had seen it immediately recognized its brilliance. Thus, Portrait of a Lady on Fire ended up at or near the top of many Best of 2019 lists and even a few end-of-decade lists. It was not on mine.

I did not get to see the film until the same time much of the public did -- in February 2020. Its greatness was, of course, self-evident, featuring two stunning lead performances from Adèle Haenel and Noémie Merlant and some of the most gorgeous cinematography you will ever see. My own Best of 2019 lists had long since been compiled, and it felt strange to consider putting it on my Best of 2020 list more than a year and a half after it screened at Cannes.

This actually is a common problem with Academy eligibility and release windows of foreign films. One of the best films of 2016 was Danish war drama Land of Mine, but you will not find it on any of my year-end lists. This is because it was nominated at the 2016 Oscars but released in the U.S. in early 2017. To complicate matters further, it screened at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2015 and was released to theaters in Denmark in December that year. So, is Land of Mine one of the best films of 2015, 2016, or 2017? 

Such matters really only matter to those of us obsessed with listmaking and chronicling the history of the cinema in an orderly fashion. By any measure, Land of Mine is a tremendous achievement and a must-see film. So it is with Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which will appear in my end-of-2020 wraps-ups. By any previously established precedent, it would not have qualified for me as a “2020 movie,” but as we now know, 2020 was the year of the unprecedented.

Case study No. 2: Hamilton and David Byrne’s American Utopia

I have never attended one of those Fathom Events screenings where they show pre-recorded performances of theater productions. They always seem interesting but have never been a viewing priority. However, when I heard Disney was going to release Hamilton in theaters, that became a priority. Of course, theaters shut down and Disney chose to release the show on its nascent streaming platform in July.

The show, of course, is excellent, but is it a movie? Most would say no. The Academy deemed it ineligible for Oscars consideration, although it will be eligible at the Golden Globes as a film. Perhaps an argument could be made for it as an avant-garde documentary depicting a single performance of the Broadway show Hamilton. 

It certainly feels as though it rises above the level of a mere pre-recorded stage production, with editing choices and camera angles that place it in the realm of great cinema. But as Zoller Seitz and Sepinwall will tell you, a filmed piece of art being great does not make it a movie. I have not seen Hamilton appear on many if any year-end lists, particularly not those strictly confined to film. And yet, we have David Byrne’s American Utopia this very year as a counterexample.

The Spike Lee concert film of David Byrne’s Broadway show is a wonderful, joyous document, and it has appeared on many end-of-the-year lists, but it is not substantially different from Hamilton as a film. It is a Broadway production, recorded and presented with amazing craft by a great filmmaker. Fans of Stop Making Sense or The Last Waltz would argue the concert film has a long, vital history in the cinema, but what is a Broadway musical if not a concert with a story?

Again, I have no answers here, only questions and beliefs. In this case, that belief is that if we want to call Lee’s film one of the best of the year -- and it should certainly be considered as such -- then we should refer to Hamilton in the same fashion.

Case study No. 3: Small Axe

I will be brief here because I intend to write about Small Axe in much greater depth in the coming days. If you are unfamiliar, Small Axe is a series of five feature films directed by Steve McQueen, all dealing with the experiences of West Indian peoples in the UK around the mid-20th century. The films played on Amazon Prime in the US and the BBC in the UK, though the first two features in the series, Mangrove and Lover’s Rock, premiered at the New York Film Festival.

If you look around, you will find Small Axe represented across lists of the best television of the year and the best films of the year, sometimes by the same publications. Everyone can agree on the series’ brilliance, but no one can seem to agree what it is. Some critics have broken it apart and called Lover’s Rock one of the standalone best films of the year, while still others have made the NYFF double feature of Mangrove and Lover’s Rock a single entry.

I do not begrudge anyone their opinion and am simply thrilled Small Axe is receiving the recognition it deserves. Hopefully, wherever people read about it, they are intrigued, and they watch it. That is the point of all this year-end handwringing anyway. For me, much like Krzysztof Kieślowski’s much-lauded Decalogue, Small Axe is meant to be taken as a whole. It is one grand, magnificent film, and that is how this site will treat it.

Case study No. 4: Nomadland, et. al.

Finally, what of the “2020” films that were not released to theaters or streaming services in the previous calendar year? Nomadland, Minari, Promising Young Woman, and more, the movies some folks have seen, which will be eligible for this year’s Academy Awards, but which most of the filmgoing public will not have had the chance to view. These are some of the best reviewed, most anticipated films of the year, and they just will not be able to factor into any kind of year-end wrap-up, at least not on this site.

If all of them end up being stunning masterpieces, then we will likely have a more wide-ranging version of the Portrait of a Lady on Fire scenario outlined above, and that is okay. If January 2020 rolls around and I am the only one left talking about Nomadland amid next year’s crop of potential modern classics, then so be it. I am here to talk about great films, whenever and however, and at the end of it all, that is why we are here. To talk about great films, whether or not they fit our preconceived notion of cinema.