The best films of 2018 (so far)

Here’s the one to beat—at least so far, in an already scary year that doesn’t need more trauma. Family frictions unravel a clan grappling with unthinkable grief in writer-director Ari Aster’s domestic-horror stunner, led by the fearless Toni Collette. That plot description suggests something somber and Bergmanesque—which this definitely is—but when the supernatural elements creep in, you’re in the presence of nothing short of a new Exorcist.

In a year when dictators seem to be making a comeback, here’s a blackly comic study of what happens when one falls of his perch. The answer? Total chaos, here mined for laughs with laser-like precision by Veep creator Armando Iannucci. Somehow we doubt the deviousness that followed the actual death of Joseph Stalin was this funny. 

If The Witch didn't convince you that young Anya Taylor-Joy was the real thing, she's now got her own American Psycho to prove it. The movie has a steely sheen and an evil sense of humor: It's about extremely wealthy Connecticut teens with bad impulses. Amid all the amazing meanness, Anton Yelchin gives his final (and best) performance.

One might as well have asked: Where was Michelle Pfeiffer? The actor bounced back like she hadn’t been in years—like never before, really—in this superb, downbeat drama about a divorced Brooklyn woman slipping through the economic cracks. An intimate, necessary story shot on location in 18 days, the movie was a reminder of what real indies used to look like.

Argentina’s Lucrecia Martel dives into churning internal fury with this demanding but rewarding watch. On the surface, it’s an 18th-century period piece about an insulted Spanish colonial officer (Daniel Giménez Cacho) who seethes at every snub, perceived or imaginary. The material derives from a celebrated 1956 novel, but Martel’s red-faced close-ups of her leading man—scored to a plummeting synthesiser score straight out of Scarface—edge the movie into comic territory. And we haven’t even mentioned the llama yet.

The Young Adult brain trust of screenwriter Diablo Cody, director Jason Reitman and Charlize Theron reunited for another sharp comedy for adults, this one (provocatively) about the little death that happens to every woman when she becomes a mother and must say goodbye to her carefree cool-girl self. Beyond Theron’s magnificent exhaustion and Cody’s deepening wisdom as a post-sarcastic voice, Tully also introduced viewers to the seriously gifted Mackenzie Davis.

A few people grumbled that Lynne Ramsay’s kinda-thriller jettisoned the pulpier genre beats of Jonathan Ames’s source novel. True, it feels like a film recovering from a heavy night—the camerawork is blearily impressionistic and Jonny Greenwood’s electronica throbs like a headache—but it’s immaculately crafted, stunningly headlined by Joaquin Phoenix’s shaggy but lethal army vet, and loaded with quiet power. It’s a film to bathe in as much as watch.

The movie didn’t linger as long as the pink-hued perfection that is The Grand Budapest Hotel, but Wes Anderson’s most recent bit of confectionary cinema supplied considerable charm, especially for dog lovers. Issues of Japanese cultural appropriation soured the critical reaction; we prefer to see Isle of Dogs as celebratory—an oblique remake of John Carpenter’s Escape from New York, with mangy Bryan Cranston growling his way to his own take on Kurt Russell’s Snake Plissken.

It really shouldn’t have taken this long for Marvel to steer itself toward racial and cultural inclusivity. Better late than never: Director Ryan Coogler doubled down on his gloriously rich production design and made a blockbuster of rare dignity, thrumming with Wakandan pride. Not for nothing, Black Panther also had rampaging war rhinos in specially designed armor (spinoff, please?), as well as Walking Dead’s fierce Danai Gurira stealing the movie as a warrior woman.

Don’t be surprised that Alex Garland, the genius behind Ex Machina and some of your favorite scripts (28 Days Later, Sunshine), made our cut of the best films of the year so far. Here’s what you can be surprised by: Annihilation was an action movie led by an all-female cast, with hints of Tarkovsky-like metaphysics. The biggest mystery of all? Where was the wider theatrical release, Netflix? Must have disappeared into the Shimmer.

John Krasinski, sweet dork of The Office, is now John Krasinski, horror auteur and expert Hitchcockian stylist. We’re still wrapping our heads around that. No matter: We loved how A Quiet Place reintroduced multiplex audiences to the concept of shutting up for a bit and leaning into a plot. This was basically a new silent classic in our midst—and enjoy the silence we did.

The sixth and best Mission movie, Fallout proves that as long as Tom Cruise has legs, so does this franchise. It’s now a slicker, simpler proposition than the series it’s often compared with—James Bond—not least for blazing a trail with smart, complex female characters. Having a settled director in the skilful cineaste Christopher McQuarrie doesn’t hurt either. Oh, and the set-pieces rock.

Besting Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace in our hastily identified new genre of “social realist pastoral drama” is this showcase for the talents of Charlie Plummer as a kid travelling cross-country with a horse. Surprisingly, it’s directed by a Brit—Weekend’s Andrew Haigh—though you’d never know it. This is a movie with an acute eye for the cadences of life on America’s margins.