Many of my generation went through the most significant developmental phase of our lives over the last decade, and many of us were influenced by cinema and the stories it showed to us. Maybe we fell in love (I did, persistently); perhaps we shed a tear (or several); we potentially even ran screaming from an image that had just frightened us beyond belief. Some of us also watched Cats (Tom Hooper, 2019) for some reason. Personally, this decade’s been very significant for my relationship to film: I watched my brother attend the Oscars in 2011; I began my degree in film; I accidentally heckled Nicholas Hoult at Venice for not being cast as Batman. I even saw Cats for some reason.

 

The arrival of 2020 had me pondering over what my most influential film of the decade in which I became an adult was. This isn’t necessarily the best or my favourite film, but one that has lingered in my mind and body. Fruitvale Station (Ryan Coogler, 2013) is mine for the reason that, when I first watched it, I couldn’t move for fifteen minutes after it had finished. This film showed me the emotional power of cinema, and I, for the first time, began to consider the techniques used by filmmakers to evoke such emotional resonance and empathy from their audience. I had never had such a physical reaction to a piece of art before. 

 

The piece that follows is a selection of film-fanatic Tn2 Film writers’ picks, some inspired  to pursue a career in film by their choices, others swept away by their emotional resonance to a film, and some a little in love with Florence Pugh and/or Richard Curtis. Thankfully nobody chose Cats.  – Connor Howlett (Film Editor)

 

Sam Hayes (Editor in Chief): Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (David Yates, 2010)

This film has never left me. It was creepy, dark and a slow burner. My experience was visceral; I first watched it before I really started to consider media critically. I remember feeling Harry’s loss when Dobby died, Ron’s discomfort when he fought the horcrux, and wonder at the animated fable of the eponymous Deathly Hallows. The moment that stands out most to me however, was Harry and Hermione’s dance as an all important glimpse of humanity in the midst of this tough grind. The range of emotions this film induced was something I had not quite experienced before, and sitting on the cusp of adolescence, it was not insignificant. While it may not be my favourite, it was certainly formative.

 

Graham Kelly (Deputy Film Editor): Wonder Woman (Patty Jenkins, 2017)

Personally, the films that have had the biggest impact on me have tended to be classics which retain their strength and influence across decades. One film this past decade which really stayed with me, that had this timelessness, was Wonder Woman. Whether it was seeing the success of a female director, or the formidable central character (Gal Gadot), the sublime set design and vivid visuals (which spanned decades and multiple lively settings): this picture instilled in me a hope that popular cinema might in the future be as diverse, engaging, creative, and as plainly gorgeous as this film was.

 

Heather Croghan (Chair of DU Film): The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky, 2012)

This is one of those rare films which improves upon the book. I cannot pinpoint which factor in this film gained it a lasting place in my cinematic memory – perhaps I watched it at a particularly transitional time in my life. It is a coming-of-age film which subverts the genre and features a show-stealing performance by Ezra Miller. This adaptation does not shy away from emotion, and it calls on its viewers to truly feel every emotion that it evokes, be it pain, love, heartbreak or happiness. One for the ages: infinitely relatable and memorable.

 

Cal Ó Muirí: Shoplifters/Manbiki kazoku (Hirokazu Koreeda, 2018)

Attempting to choose my most important film of the past decade was challenging, until it wasn’t. I watched some of my favourites, such as Phoenix (Christian Petzold, 2014), but when I returned to Shoplifters nothing else came close. It was Shoplifters that introduced me to the cinema of Koreeda: his quiet style in which the camera rests and life unfolds in front of it; the marvellous actors he frequently collaborates with, and, most importantly, the incredibly human stories he tells. These are inspiring stories of imperfect people in an imperfect world. In the words of Lil Uzi Vert: sanguine paradise.

 

Peter Horan: About Time (Richard Curtis, 2013)

Centring on a young lawyer who uses his powers of time-travel to find love, About Time sounds like the kind of bargain-basement rom-com that belongs on the Hallmark Channel (its bafflingly-edited trailer does little to dispute this). In tracking how Tim’s (Domhnall Gleeson) newly-discovered powers impact his relationships with love-interest, Mary (Rachel McAdams) and, most potently, his father (Bill Nighy), what writer-director Curtis instead delivers is a film of such irresistible warmth that any cynicism towards the premise immediately melts away. Reminding us to cherish the minutiae of the everyday, snot-level tears and generous laughs await. The cinematic equivalent of a hug. 

Johannes Black: Twin Peaks: The Return (David Lynch and Mark Frost, 2017)

Scripted and filmed as an 18-hour movie, Twin Peaks: The Return continues 25 years after the events of the original show, re-imagining the dreamworld of Laura Palmer that I and many others had come to revere. Neither television nor cinema, co-writers Lynch and Frost deliver a unique, surrealist hybrid of the two, inviting a new reception to its content and Quixotic, open-ended visions. Twin Peaks is a constant source of inspiration to me, and The Return (which, in many ways, I consider to be greater than its original) is both a final, long goodbye and capitalisation of the decade.

 

Molly Donnery: Lady Bird (Greta Gerwig, 2017)

I went to see Lady Bird on my 19th birthday during 6th year, and at a time in my life where everything seemed to be up in the air, it was the perfect film to bring me back down to earth. As well as being a technically beautiful film with an amazing cast, there is something so relatable about how Gerwig presents Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan) and her life in Sacramento. It was a story that I know well, but had never seen on the screen and I connected with it in a way I haven’t with other films before. It is timeless and I know that it will always be an inspiration for me as a filmmaker.

 

Mia Sherry: Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)

Christopher Nolan’s Inception perfectly encapsulates a departure into the uniquely 2010s decade of cinema, and, for me, inspired my great passion for cinema. It balances the themes of memory and nostalgia but also forthcoming spectacle and attraction through its still sophisticated special effects on a fine line. That ultimately gives it the ability to move seamlessly through the years while still remaining a brilliant film, almost untouched by time and increasingly boastful special effects.

 

James McCleary: Midsommar (Ari Aster, 2019)

Midsommar has been described by its director as both a fairytale and an allusion to The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939), neither of which could ever have prepared me for the experience of watching this bizarre and brilliant film on a fateful Sunday morning six months ago. The sensation was equal parts traumatic and transcendent; this was the film that completely changed the way in which I appreciate not only horror films but the entire medium of cinema. The novel ways in which Midsommar masterfully manipulates both its colours and characters to horrify is genuinely groundbreaking to an extent I had thought to be no longer achievable, which is one of the many reasons why it has inspired me more than any other film to pursue a career in filmmaking.  

 

Grace Kenny: X+Y (Morgan Matthews, 2015)

This is a personal favourite film from this decade, since it is a masterpiece in portraying the Autism Spectrum Disorder on screen. From subtly depicting sensory struggles through use of overwhelmingly vivid lighting, to featuring two Autistic characters, who have almost polar opposite experiences of the disability, X+Y perfectly captures many aspects of life with Autism. In 2015, this was the only love story I’d heard of between an Autistic person and a neurotypical person! However, I do criticise the stereotypes in the film – both Autistic characters being male and being mathematical geniuses. It also boasts an impressive cast of Asa Butterfield, Sally Hawkins, and more. Even better: the film is based on a true story! 

 

Joey Fanthom: Call Me by Your Name (Luca Guadagnino, 2017)

This was not a film I was anticipating. I had heard positive reviews from its Sundance debut, but I went into it without much expectation. The film absolutely floored me. A beautifully told story of first love and heartbreak, it features two outstanding lead performances from Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer against the sublime backdrop of the Tuscan countryside, all set to a cracking soundtrack including two memorable original tracks from Sufjan Stevens. However, it is not the romance that spoke to me on a personal level, but the relationship between Chalamet’s Elio and his father (Michael Stuhlbarg). A quiet observer throughout the film, his support and understanding of his son is summed up perfectly in a touching, heartfelt monologue towards the film’s end. Delivered with an understated warmth and empathy, it is one of the great moments in recent cinematic history, bookending as my most personally-affecting film of the decade.