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| Amy Adams, Natalie Portman, Isabelle Huppert and Jeff Bridges give some of 2016's best performances. |
Say what you will about the movies of 2016, but these last
few days end a year for great screen performances. This year also marks an
improvement in great parts for women as the list for lead performances is
overwhelmingly stacked towards great female roles. Here are Cinemablographer.com’s
picks for the top ten supporting and lead performances of 2016.
The Best Supporting Performances of 2016
10. Margaret Bowman in Hell or High Water
Margaret Bowman proves that no role is too small to leave an
impact. She has only a few minutes of screentime as the cranky steak waitress with
the sassy line of “What don’t you want?”, but Bowman gives Hell or High Water its moment of genuine flat-out brilliance in
which the crime drama assumes Coen Brothers level humour and gravitas with its
glimpse into small town Americana. She steals the film with one great scene.
9. Mahershala Ali in Moonlight
Another small performance, Ali’s turn in Moonlight has great heart. Appearing in
the first act of the film and disappearing far too soon, Ali’s Juan reminds the
audience what a positive impact a mentor and father figure may have. He might
not be the most respectable figure as the film reveals more about his
profession, but his charismatic and humane mentor breaks through stereotypes,
particularly with his standout monologue on moonlight and the wisdom it imparts
to young Chiron, as the dealer lets a moment of intimate candor break through
his tough exterior.
Wilkinson is characteristically great as Richard Rampton,
the reserved lawyer for Rachel Weisz’s motormouth academic on trial for libel
in Denial. His work is a master class
in restraint as Rampton pragmatically assess the case and delivers every line
as if the plaintiff, Holocaust denier David Irving (Timothy Spall) isn’t
present. Wilkinson preserves the dignity of Rampton’s case by refusing to
acknowledge the absurdity of Rampton’s charges and, in turn, by denying him the
pulpit with which he hope to spread his nonsense.
Sue Brierley is an ordinary hero, but Lion never overwhelms the story of her adopted son Saroo’s
pilgrimage back to India thanks to the subtle and deeply heartfelt performance
by Nicole Kidman. Kidman underplays this role masterfully as Sue’s difficult
relationship with her younger son strains her spirit, yet the whispers of light
that crack through through her hardened change of character make her especially
touching. The pure, unabashed, and selfless love that exists within this woman
makes Lion so rich and inspiring.
Amy Adams and Jake Gyllenhaal are excellent as ex-lovers in
Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals, but the
supporting players steal it. From Andrea Riseborough’s flamboyant cameo to
Laura Linney’s Southern matriarch who is Kentucky Bourbon personified, Tom Ford
peppers his film with memorable parts. But it’s Michael Shannon, badass
extraordinaire, who owns Nocturnal
Animals as a lawman with a knack for vigilante justice. The dark and
morally ambiguous character lends tension and credibility to the fictional
thread of the film, which could be unruly pulp if not all the ingredients came
together as juicily as they do with Shannon’s help.
Gugu Mbatha-Raw might be the unsung hero of the year. She
proves a worthy counterpoint to Jessica Chastain’s icy Liz Sloane as headstrong
lobbyist Esme Manucharian, who could easily be a flat soundboard for exposition
in lesser hands. The central turn of Miss
Sloane hinges on Mbatha-Raw’s willingness to expose her character’s
vulnerability, and as she injects a jolt of emotion to contrast with Chastain’s
stoic game face, she reminds audiences that human lives are at stake in Capitol
Hill’s lobbying game.
Like Wilkinson in Denial,
Mirren gives a performance of laudable restraint in Eye in the Sky. As Col. Katherine Powell, Mirren navigates the
moral and ethical no fly zone of impersonal warfare. Eye in the Sky tackles the complexities of contemporary technological
warfare as invested military parties around the world debate a drone strike with
collateral damage. With her composure and self-assurance, Mirren creates a
woman who risks becoming a drone herself as warfare removes human lives from
the battleplans.
Dakota Johnson might best be known for Fifty Shades of Grey, but her performance in Luca Guadagnino’s A Bigger Splash is way sexier than
anything Miss Steele and Mr. Grey cooked up with whips and buckles. Playing the
sexpot daughter to Ralph Fiennes, Johnson and her onscreen daddy burn up the scenery
with weirdly incestuous chemistry. Her Lolita-ish seductiveness gives this
sweltering romantic thriller some juicy underlying tension and heat: her
naïveté and come-hither looks foreshadow a dangerous game in which debauchery
is the main course.
Jeff Bridges must have been a crusty old sheriff in past
life. It’s as if he grew into this role since Hell or High Water echoes his early work and rewrites the westerner
for the new frontier as myths of American ideology crumble in the post-Bush
years. His cantankerous humour offsets the jarring violence of the film as he and
his road partner (Gil Birmingham) try to make sense of their wayward nation. He
fits the role of the woke and world-weary sheriff who’s seen it all. This part
plays so well into Bridges overall persona that it’s hard to imagine a better
fit between character and star.
And the best supporting performance of 2016 is…
As Laura, the bipolar mother to Kit in Bruce McDonald’s Weirdos, Molly Parker outdoes herself by
showing impeccable range and vulnerability. There is no bigger high and no
deeper low to the emotions that the characters on this list display as Laura’s
jumbled memories and erratic euphoria create a character of complex and
heartbreaking psychology. As Laura dances in her bohemian dress and reminisces
about the good-old days with Andy Warhol, she takes Weirdos beyond greatness by lightning up the screen as the Miss
Havisham of rural Nova Scotia. Molly Parker’s daring performance in Weirdos ranks among her best work.
The Best Lead Performances of 2016
It’s often controversial when Hollywood stars swoop into
northern Ontario for a plum role in a production with some tax breaks, but I
don’t see the harm in letting them do so occasion if they turn in performances
as excellent as Ethan Hawke does in the Chet Baker biopic Born to Be Blue. Hawke inhabits Baker’s soulful love for music and
his junkie twitch with outstanding passion and dexterity. If Born to Be Blue were an American indie
and not an overlooked Canadian film, Hawke might be a frontrunner in this
year’s awards race. Carmen Ejogo too, while we’re at it!
The double threat of Amy Adams makes its first appearance on
this list with unexpected coup in Nocturnal
Animals. Adams surprises by playing against type as the cold Susan, whose
everyday life is a Tom Ford commercial until her ex-husband writes her a
novel-length Dear Jane letter that wakes her up to the emptiness of her
existence. Adams actually fits the part from the novel very well, for Susan is
a wholesome schoolteacher in the source material, but pushing her out of her
comfort zone is one of the many ways in which Nocturnal Animals dares us to explore the darker sides of ourselves.
Who knew Kate Beckinsale could be so funny? She’s a perfect
vessel with which to bring together two seemingly different, but unexpectedly
similar, worlds of art and letters: romantic-era Jane Austin and contemporary
Manhattan Whit Stillman. Beckinsale plays it straight, poised, and prim as Lady
Susan and she could easily be reprising her role of Charlotte from The Last Days of Disco in an elaborate
costume party at Studio 54. With great repartee and chemistry with co-star
Chloe Sevigny, Beckinsale underscores the satire in Jane’s comedy and Whit’s
wit.
Mylène Mackay’s complex work in Anne Émond’s Nelly is jaw-droppingly impressive. It
might be the best and bravest work ever to receive a spotlight in the TIFF
Rising Stars programme at the Toronto International Film Festival. Mackay
tackles no less than three roles and personas in her multifaceted performance
as late author Nelly Arcan and the literary counterparts she inhabits. The film
plays a bit like the Québécois Nocturnal
Animals as the multiple narratives fictionalise Nelly’s life and refract
the darkest elements of her troubled mind. Mackay is alluring, devastating, and
terrifying as she adopts various characters who are all reflections of the
author’s troubled psyche. She should be Canada’s next big star.
Homer Simpson finds his live action counterpart in the
German comedy Toni Erdmann.
Simonischek plays dopey daddy Winfried and his alter ego Toni Erdmann in this
riotous film from Maren Ade, and his mix of deadpan physical comedy and hearty humanity
makes this character one of the best comedic performances since the days of
Peter Sellers. The more embarrassing Winfried acts in Toni’s wig and
Neanderthal dentures, the more sympathetic he becomes as he desperately tries
to reconnect with his estranged daughter (Sandra Hüller) by resurrecting the
childhood games that once forged a strong bond.
Part two in the Amy Adams double feature of 2016 is her
performance in Canadian director Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival. Adams gives science fiction (and film itself) a notable
female lead with her resilient linguist Dr. Louise Banks, who drives this
brainy adventure into mind-bending territory through dialogue, gestures, and
foundational aspects of communication. At the heart of her performance is a
seed of heartache as Banks carries the daily burden of grief, using it to drive
herself forward in a selfless act of love and loss that explores the
possibilities that live within the language of the stars.
Pantsuit Nation finds a new icon in Jessica Chastain’s
fierce and ferocious Liz Sloane. This performance is infinitely fascinating and
important in a year that notes horrible pushback against women rising to power
in Washington. Lobbyist Liz Sloane is one tough political animal and Chastain
creates a strong character who defies both the glass ceiling and prescribed
gender roles by playing Washington with her own set of rules. Part Frank
Underwood, part Miranda Priestley, she’s a shrewd player in a stacked game. She
owns the talky Aaron Sorkin-y script of Miss
Sloane and embraces the character’s complexity and shortcomings to
challenge expectations and keep audiences guessing.
Another year brings another round of Cinemablographer applause for the great Meryl Streep. Streep once
again reminds us why she’s the best actress working today with her humorous and
deceptively funny performance as terrible singer/wannabe songbird Florence
Foster Jenkins. The marvel of Streep’s performance is that the actress is
actually a great singer, but she does an excellent job of singing terribly as
Florence screeches off-key. No matter how horribly Florence sings, though, or
how heartily Streep inhabits the King’s
Speech-y spirit of the film, her performance hits Florence Foster Jenkins’
passion as its highest note as she endears the character to the audience
despite the odds. The film invites one to laugh, but feel the courage behind
Florence’s indefatigable love for music.
This performance might have topped this list in any other
year. Isabelle Huppert is an utterly menacing and mesmerising presence as the
sociopathic Michelle of Paul Verhoeven’s ballsy new film. Huppert redefines
fearlessness as she straddles the roles of victim and aggressor alike, playing
a rape survivor who refuses to let the trauma of her attack overtake her. She’s
a beguiling cat to the unsuspecting mouse of her aggressor, and the convoluted
hunt of Michelle’s game might not convince were Huppert not so deliciously
sinister, yet sympathetic. The playful coldness and mercilessness behind
Huppert’s eyes creates a character so difficult to pin down that Elle is exhilaratingly icky.
Natalie Portman takes an enormous risk in playing one of the
USA’s most iconic women, so Cinemablographer
tips its pillbox hat to the star for nailing the presence and spirit of former
First Lady Jackie Kennedy. On one level, Portman’s performance is a masterful
recreation of the First Lady with her poise and breathy diction, but on
another, it’s a thoroughly perceptive interpretation of a woman’s grief and
strength. The extent to which Portman dives into Kennedy’s post-traumatic
stress in the aftermath of her husband’s assassination helps Jackie eschew biopic convention by
burrowing into the deepest recesses of a character’s mind. Portman fascinates
by showing a woman who is both shell-shocked and amazingly strong as Jackie
composes herself outside the private corridors of the White House to give the
nation the reassurance it needs in time of crisis. Like Jessica Chastain’s
performance in Miss Sloane, Portman’s
turn in Jackie challenges the roles
set out for women in Washington—and, one should say, Hollywood—as this
complicated woman juggles multiple roles and personas while putting on a brave
composure to keep the peace.
Honourable mentions: Nathalie
Baye, It’s Only the End of the World; Josh
Brolin, Hail, Caesar!; Ellen DeGeneres, Finding Dory; Gael García Bernal, Neruda; Rebecca Hall, Christine; Naomie Harris, Moonlight; Taraji P. Henson, Hidden
Figures; Stephan James, Across the Line; Hailee Steinfeld, The Edge
of Seventeen; Tilda Swinton, A Bigger Splash; Rachel Weisz, Denial; Michelle Williams, Manchester
by the Sea; Evan Rachel Wood, Into
the Forest.
(Note: I haven’t yet been able to see Fences or La La Land.)
