- Yes I did rank these films because ranking is fun and that's all the reasoning I need
- No I did not see every film that came out this year (Hell, not even every Best Picture Academy Award nominee) so this is more of a "Films from 2014 I would highly suggest watching" list, not a "Definitive Best films of 2014" list
- Yes, this list is nothing more than Oscar Darlings with a few Indie hits mixed in...Enjoy!
12. The Skeleton Twins
Between this and Foxcatcher, we received a whole plethora of "comedic actors turn in dramatic roles". And I usually groan at those kind of movies because of how much they feel like Oscar bait, but Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig play their characters so perfectly, it's hard to see anyone else in their spots. And the roles are hard, as the subject of unstable brother/sister relationships isn't often explored in film. The pair play the perfect chemistry, twisting seamlessly between the awkward emotional reunion, the soulful familial connections and the unashamedly stupid jokes, with ease. They're supported by great writing, or at least great dialogue writing, that flows naturally with all of it's comedy and drama in a bittersweet mix, every conversation showing the layers of the life long sibling attachments and recent detachments. Every joke produces warm laughter and every dramatic point produces stiffening tension. There's a smooth masterfulness to a lot of the writing, the most noticeable example being a subplot involving Hader and a former lover. There's a twist that is of a kind hard to pull off in storytelling, as the characters all know the information of the twist, the only ones left in the dark are the audience. Yet in setting up the relationship, creating full characters, and revealing the twist, the story never feels forced and convoluted, the movie never works too hard to keep the audience from knowing it. It is all presented with such ease and intelligence that when the dark twist finally comes, it's a genuine dramatic bomb, but one that doesn't come completely out of nowhere. This doesn't mean the writing is perfect all the time: The Climax convolutes like Hell to get us to that happy ending and the film falls into a pattern of "main characters make jokes, then have a fight, then bond over deep personal moments" and repeat. It works fine, but it's tired after a while.It's a film filled with highlights of writing: lip syncing "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now", making fun of the volunteer actors on a community haunted walk, a monologue exposing the harsh reality of the "Losers in High School will be the Winners in Life" idea, among many others. It's levitated to the status of a great Family Drama by the classic performances from Wiig and Hader, who take what could be incredibly unlikable, gradingly mopey characters and turn them relatable and compassionate with writing that for the most part strikes that chord of warm humanity and comedy.
11. Selma
I mean, it's the white guilt film of the year, it's not like these can ever be bad. But Selma does work as more than "just another civil rights film that works on the white guilt factor". What sets it apart the most is the humanity it brings to MLK. This is the first major film about the man, so obviously it's gunning for the position of the essential one about his life. And I'll buy it, because it makes King feel like more than just the saint of African-Americans, he's a human. A human that thinks about more than his angst and the grave struggle he's in, a human that laughs, makes jokes, feels vulnerable sometimes, and even shows deep, unforgivable flaws in his personal life. When the movie could've just been praise for the man and all he did, it creates a much more dimensional, real Dr. King, which in turn grounds the rest of the movie in it's all too depressing reality. The part is brought to life by David Oyelowo, who displays the power and conviction of MLK naturally, but also the downplayed humane moments.Unflinching in it's portrayal of a turbulent time in a realistically racist America, Selma soars not just on its daringly dimensional framing of it's heroic main character. It soars through Ava Duvernay's, who doesn't shy away from the pure blood and violence of the time, but doesn't exploit it for an easy shock factor either. While there are some imperfect and weak choices, especially when it comes to the placement of music, there are still many powerful moments on display. A masterful sense of intensity and gloom hangs over every word and image, up until the final moments of its bittersweet ending that, surprisingly, doesn't end with MLK's death. And that's one of the elements that makes Selma so much better than "just another civil rights film that works on the white guilt factor", because it truly makes it about his life, not his tragic death. It's humane and grounded writing, beautiful cinematography, perfected central performance, non-III act structure, and powerful sense of tension make it the essential MLK and maybe even the essential civil rights movement film...yet it's still not even the best film of the year about African American struggles.
The romantic movie has a very bad rep. these days. It's the "Nicholas Sparks Effect" mixed with the "Twilight Effect" mixed with the "Nora Ephron's Decreased Quality By the End of Her Career Effect". Most of the film of the genre today have soapy dialogue and melodramatic plotting, making a sort of mediocre romance mud over the past decade or so. And the only blades of grass that stick out of the mud usually end up being beaten down witch cries from the public of "meh". Fortunately, Obvious Child is more than just a blade of grass, it's a full on beautiful, badass daisy.
It's a film that's very grounded in reality, which it has to be due to being centered around the real life, controversial and morally complicated idea of a woman dealing her abortion. The characters are all likable and less quirky than you'd expect with their original set-ups, the chemistry between the romantic leads is perfect, and the wildly emotional woman child main character never feels annoying, but fully understandable and real. Her decisions and emotional changes work and make sense to create the character. Played by the charismatic and fiery Jenny Slate, the character of Donna is a stand up comedienne, with a lot of self-depricating, offbeat humor that consistently works. However her humor is also fairly juvenile at points, which means yes, the potty humor is made sometimes, but it works. It works to create the character of who Donna is, helps the audience see what she finds funny in a character where's that quality is pretty important. You may laugh at the joke and you may not, but in a way, it doesn't entirely matter, because it makes her laugh, and makes us realize who Donna is.
The movie is a lot more than potty humor though. Besides that and a lot of comedic and light hearted romantic moments that work, it's a completely honest and refreshingly unpolitical look at abortion. There's never a mention of pro-life and pro-choice in the whole movie, let alone a debate on the issue. It's entirely a personal journey, and one that shows all of Donna's emotions without dipping into the pool of unrealistic melodrama. And with Jenny Slate's performance that perfectly captures the likably wild and dramatic Donna and the extroverted, rambling nature of comedian life, Obvious Child is one of the most genuine and honest romantic comedies in years.
9. Nightcrawler(full review also posted earlier)
This movie comes out at a time when the prophecies of Network and Broadcast News have begun to come true. Television news has reached an era of absolute exploitation and almost a complete removal from the actual important issues of today. And while Nightcrawler is certainly not the first film of this time to address the issue, it's arguably the best.
Nightcrawler centers around the perfect window into the world of trashy local news, that being the people who film the seedy crime scenes and car crashes the night of, selling the footage to news stations...and the disturbed man who took that job a step too far. It's a set up that leads to a powerhouse of gloomy satire. The clearly mentally off main character of Louis Bloom verbally points out every cynical flaw of the system, yet fully involves himself in the same system, in increasingly morally despicable ways. It's a perfect story that is delivered with brilliant build up and pay off and piercing dialogue from it's script, and some gripping tension, a sleek look and visual symbolism from it's direction. And the strong direction is not only visually remarkable, but aurally as well. The soundtrack is brilliant, in a very unorthodox way. Commonly, it plays as if it were the music playing within Bloom's mind. When he does something horrifying but helpful to his job, the music is creepily triumphant. Underplayed, but still triumphant.
Jake Gyllenhaal's powerhouse performance matches such a powerhouse film. The commitment he had to creating such a defined kind of creepy intensity, not just physically but mentally, shines through to reveal all the complexities of the character. A character that is a fascinating person himself, but also a representation of the heartless machine of news, and one that serves as a blunt warning in a world of TV that, as Howard Beale from Network would say, should make you "mad as hell".
8. The LEGO MovieCurrently, I'm jumping onto the "why the hell did this not win the Best Animated Feature Oscar" bandwagon. It's understandable why it wasn't picked, it is a hard sell, considering it's a film based off a toy brand. On the surface, it would appear to be hackneyed and lazy, targeting the lowest common denominator with easy jokes. But it's actually an extremely smart, original, and highly funny children's films, undoubtedly one of the best family films of the American mainstream in recent memory.
It does follow the usual pattern of children's films: Main character lies to work way into group of people to accomplish goal and even the lie is revealed but they save the day and everyone is happy. You've seen it in almost all of Dreamsworks' films, a few newer Disney films, and Pixar's lesser films, and it shows up here...but it all happens within 20 minutes. And after that, it's an absolute whirlwind of creativity and new, sometimes thought provoking, ideas. The plot goes in some fascinating directions, the most notable point being when the film fully and completely breaks the fourth wall in a mind bending way, and then creates a fifth wall and breaks that too...it's weird. A perfect kind of weird, which describes the whole movie. Without giving away a lot of the jokes and twists in the screenplay, I'll say it doesn't allow itself to be lazy because it's "just a kids movie" and can get away with that. The sheer effort is everywhere: the deadpan and sarcastic comedy that commonly plays on American pop culture, the beautiful and intricate animation that actually looks like stop motion legos, the spot on voice acting (especially Will Arnett as a parody of Christian Bale's Batman), the pitch perfect song attached to the film, and the truly intellectual way it presents it's morality. The film subtly shows the need in life to have a balance between allowing creative freedom and setting rules that must be followed, a perfect midpoint between the extremes of totalitarianism and creatively free anarchy shown in the film. All of this from a movie that literally brands itself in the title to sell more toys.
7. Birdman: Or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)How do you find the line between a pretentious film and deep film? It's a hard line to find, and is apparently very easy to cross. American Beauty was along that line, and so is Birdman. The two films are actually quite similar. It's not a comparison many others are making, but Bidman is a film about a middle aged white man going through a mid life crisis, it has an artistic style that sets it apart but isn't too edgy for mainstream audiences, it took home a slew of oscars including best picture (to the surprise of some) despite not being made of the same stuff as most best picture winners, and it's an odd mix of genuine human drama and dark comedy with a monologue filled screenplay...much like American Beauty.
I make the comparison because, also like American Beauty, Birdman is becoming a subject of a lot of backlash based off of how much praise it's received over awards season. People started calling it pretentious and overrated, which makes sense. I mean, it's obviously trying too hard to win awards and be known as artistic. With it's opening shot off a comet that connects to the narrative through "mood" and it's unnecessary cinematography and big ambiguous statements that actually mean nothing and white people whining about nothing and a mysterious ending that means nothing, it could easily tire into being dated with worn out symbolism and technique much like American Beauty has. It has so many novelties with it's score, cinematography, storyline, it's like the creators are pulling out every stop to win awards.
Yet now, in 2015, while this movie is not dated, it's still fascinating. It's central characters are engagingly real, especially real since some of the actors are essentially playing themselves: Michael Keaton in the role of an actor that has faded into obscurity after playing a superhero decades ago, trying to reinvent his career in entertainment industry, and Edward Norton as an egotistical actor that's impossible to work with. It's cinematography pulls you into the hectic world of theatre and the constant fast pace of the characters lives as they barely have time to keep up. It's score is intense and showy and only adds to the frenetic nature of a lot of the film. It's screenplay weaves a complex story with a mood of (as my friend refers to it) "depressed comedy" with bitter dark humor, cynical satire of entertainment, and trenchant drama with plenty emotional catharsis, all building to a haunting ending that leaves audiences debating what exactly happened long after they leave. Sure it's kinda pretentious right down to the title, sure it's a bunch of rich white people whining, sure it's award bait, but somehow, that adds to the crazy whirlwind this film is. And just like the ending, I'm not sure I can explain it.
6. Dear White People
It ain't Selma that's the best film of the year about African American struggles, it's Dear White People. A large part of that is how it sets itself in the world of today. While films like Selma and 12 Years a Slave are always important as capsules reminding us of the true evils humanity can degrade to, Dear White People stands out by talking about what's happening today. It's a modernly intellectual, scaldingly hilarious, occasionally eerie representation of the muddled world of 21st century racial relations, so tactful in all of these elements that it deserves to be studied as a capsule of this time period for decades to come.As a freshman effort for writer/director Justin Simien, this film should have been a failure. It's a mini-political Epic, following the lives of 5 students on a University campus with equal screen time for all, attempting to subtly tackle many sides of casual and ironic racism in the 21st century. A comedy of this genre and caliber, especially under a brand new writer/director, would normally fall apart into a wordy and tangled mess. It's a bit overstuffed, sure, but Simien has written a brilliant screenplay that balances out so many stories and unexposed ideas about racism while retaining realistic dialogue that consistently draws out laughs. The characters are all well defined not only by the script but by all around noteworthy ensemble, refreshingly actors that aren't big Hollywood names in an ensemble that easily holds their own with the star power of Selma. It's most impressive that this film, like the best about social issues, politics, and the like, remembers to put some amount of focus on it's characters personal lives and their emotional problems, more story that Simien balances with ease. It's not just a cold, calculating film that angrily rants to you about problems of America, it's a film about people as well as ideas.
My school is one of those schools that has a Native American as our mascot and calls itself "The Reservation" even though I'm pretty sure we have .0001% Native American population. The casual racism recently reared it's ugly head when students voted to have our spring dance be themed "Cowboys vs. Indians" (could've been Harry Potter themed but noooo...). While I stayed away from the dance with 50 foot pole, I heard from others that the dance was thankfully unpopular and there was a lack of brown face, but no matter what, it was still school approved and deemed ok to happen. I wish these events lined up with my viewing of this film so I would have that push to give it a proper full review, but alas I'm squeezing it in here. This film's central plot revolves around a party of the same breed, except the party in the film is ignorantly appropriating Black culture instead of Native American culture under the guise of irony. It was shocking seeing these all too real events portrayed in the film, especially with the real life news clippings during the credits about such racial appropriation parties. But then seeing it happen around me and seeing many not care just reminds me of how vital and how prescient films like Dear White People can be, and that this film is one of the singularly most important films to come out this year.
5. Wild
Out of all the films on this list, this is easily the most impeccably crafted. It's flawless, not as perfect in a sense of emotional appeal like the following four films, or even arguably the previous seven, but technically flawless. Which is not to say that Wild is robotic and doesn't work emotionally, it's an extremely cathartic, emotionally raw experience. The movie follows the real life story of Cheryl Strayed, who hiked 1,100 miles in order to meditate and free herself from a scarring past, and boy is it scarring. Every gritty dramatic bit of trauma that could possibly happen to a person, from addiction to abortion, happened to this woman, but I guess it takes a lot for someone to decide they need to hike 1,100 miles to get through it. The film beautifully weaves her present life of hiking the trail with her past in scattered scenes from childhood to early adulthood, over the course of two hours piecing together a brutal life. The dialogue shifts perfectly between lightly natural and heavily dramatic. And it all flows in an interestingly non-linear, non-hollywood fashion. Her journey on the Pacific Crest Trail focuses more on the variety of people she encounters for comedy and drama, the struggles that come with the isolationist, long distance hiking, and the beautifully shot scenery. There isn't a big dramatic breakout in the climax and then reassurance everything will be alright to tie it up in a neat bow. There's subtler emotions, real reactions and dialogue, and an ending that shows hope for a greater future without forcing itself to show all of it, this all being displayed perfectly by Witherspoon in an almost solo performance. She spends most of the movie alone, quiet, with nothing but the universe and her inner monologue to keep her company, and Witherspoon works quiet wonders with seemingly nothing, creating a full character that is constantly engaging. She's only elevated by the characters that drift in and out while on the trail and those that show up from her past, especially the oscar nominated Laura Dern.
Wild is a rawly magical film. There's no sense of escapism or much melodrama, but it is magical in how it craftily creates a rocky road of Strayed's life, piecing together a puzzle of piercing honesty and inspiring hope through it's sheer emotional power.
4. The Babadook
Jennifer Kent has been around a while, but is new on the scene as a writer/director, and hopefully she sticks around in horror, because she just gets it. She understands that true horror is more than scenes that build up to jump scares, and it shows in how psychological and character involved the storyline and suspense are. The story centers around Amelia, who is still in a heavy depression after the untimely death of her husband, while trying to deal with her emotionally unstable, paranoid son...and an impending ominous monster. The way the monster ties into Amelia's depression, weaving in the symptoms and unveiling the emotions under the surface, testing the strained mother-son bond, makes The Babadook truly work as both a dramatic character study as well as a masterful horror film, all the way up to it's unorthodox ending that poetically defies usual horror conventions for something emotionally resonant. And while it's already unusual for a horror film to be so emotionally captivating, it's doubly unusual to have a horror film so memorably acted. Most horror movies sell themselves solely on idea and plot, which Babadook is praiseworthy for, but this film is one of the few exceptions of passionate acting in horror. It's two leads, Amelia and her son Samuel, are almost the only people on screen for the whole 90 minutes, and require some extreme talent, and Essie Davis and Noah Wiseman deliver. Wiseman has one of the hardest challenges of any child actor I've seen and fully delivers, and I wouldn't be surprised if Davis' performance goes down as one of the iconic horror performances, up there with Sissy Spacek and Piper Laurie in Carrie and Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Her character shifts between frail and vulnerable, bitter, hopeful, even fully animalistic near the end, are seamless and her looming depression quietly and subtly hangs over her the entire time.
The scares and gloomy suspense of Babadook are all perfectly in place, largely due to an alignment of some brilliant technical elements. Listing off, the score is made to sound like a scratched, old record, echoey and distant, and is matched with the brilliant direction of grain-ifying the camera during the short appearances of the Babadook. There's even genius in the editing, especially in the initial reading of the sinister Babadook pop up book, horrifying solely through the intense quick cuts of uncomfortable close ups. The basic design of the Babadook is what stands out the most, it's ominous, all black with a defined and threatening outline. In horror, we're so blasé about being explicitly shown terrifying things, and Babdook responds to this norm with a design that gets under your skin in distorted sounds, distorted movements, and distorted looks.
The Babadook is a complete feat of horror, combining new elements (like emotional connections with the monster) with subversions on old elements (like the brilliant ending). It's a powerhouse from every conceivable angle, technical and emotional, and while it may exhaust you by the end in how relentless it is, it's completely worth the ride.
3. Boyhood
Such an extraordinary movie through how ordinary it attempts to be. And Boyhood does go to great extents to be normal and represent everyday life. There's a complete lack of three act structure and there's dialogue that represents a reality that's not convoluted around plot, but most prominent is the use of the same actors over a course of 12 years. It's a risky choice (actors can die, pull out, child actors can grow up and not be talented) but adds so much to the story. There's an authenticity in it, watching the actors grow along with their characters, along with the quality of the camera, and along with American culture. If Boyhood's entire point is to give you a peek into the lives of real people in ways more intimate than a documentary ever could and make you consider the incredible nature of average lives, then it should be grounded in the reality of time, and writer/director Linklater does, brilliantly.Boyhood works on more than a (genius) gimmick though. It's realism truly comes out of it's screenplay. For a whole 3 hours, the story of Mason and Samantha and their mom and their Dad is told with no phoned in nostalgia, no cheesy dialogue, no melodrama even in situations that could easily be so. It feels wrong to even call the changes characters go through character arcs, because the movie is so disconnected from the ideas of plot and structure. Character changes occur, slowly and sometimes painfully, and so subtly that you might not even notice. It's never boring and monotonously slow, though. Boyhood is grounded in reality, but it's characters are so rounded, it's conversations so charming and conflicts so brutally honest, that it keeps your interest all throughout. The movie doesn't depend on "real for the sake of real" to keep your interest. And the actors only elevate the script to greater heights. There's a connection between every single person that appears on screen and a heart given to the words said that never makes you think about the script hiding behind the actor's mouths. Hawke, Arquette, and Coltrane have rightfully received loads of praise for their portrayals, but it's truly the whole ensemble, spread over 12 years.
There's not much to say about Boyhood besides it's just so real. It fills you with nostalgia, not just of the American culture subtly woven in, but of just living as life flashes before you. Never before, and maybe never again, will we get an equal representation of what it's like to just live.
2. Still Alice
Very rarely will we receive a film this brutally intimate and powerful. Still Alice presents an unflinching look at the life of a linguistics professor who begins slipping into early onset Alzheimer's Disease, showing the true fear and depression Alice has of the uncontrollable, all as it forces itself into her mind. It's a subtle screenplay, arching through the process of the changes in Alice Howland with heart wrenching grace. It's a movie where when you get to the ending scene, it's important to think back to the beginning, and truly realize how much has deteriorated in Alice in such a short time, what an envelopment the dementia has become, and how you might not have even noticed due to how realistically gradually it was all paced out.
Gradual and slow, yet still dropping the emotional and physical bombs and presenting perfected human connection and conversations. Still Alice's strong screenplay always finds ways to keep you consistently interested and in a sense of dread, even with the directions the story could go in being very limited. We know what's going to happen, we know she's going to forget more and more of her life, but it still gnarls your heart every time there's a new development, without plunging into soap opera territory.
A large part of that emotional effect is the brilliant ensemble work. The main ensemble of five in the Howland family bring to life the nuanced personalities of real people, the healthy, usual WASP family bond being puled apart in the few ensemble scenes we get. On a smaller scale from that, Julianne Moore and Alec Baldwin show the hardest crumbling relationship. They easily establish the chemistry of a comfortably married, still passionate couple early on in the film (chemistry made possible, yet again, by a remarkably natural screenplay). It makes Alice's regression into Alzheimer's all the more depressing, seeing their aged, perfected relationship torn apart by something unexpected and uncontrollable, exposing new feelings from them and forcing tough decisions. But on an even smaller scale, Julianne Moore delivers one of the singular best dramatic performances I've seen in any film ever...like ever. The part demands a lot, to show a slow collapse of Alice's personality and life as it is overtaken by her disability, for her to be completely vulnerable and emotionally naked to the audience and her screen partners, and to do it all in a movie that's almost one long close up of her face the whole time. She shows every nuance and subtlety in her physicality and voice with what can only be described as heartbreaking perfection.
Subtle really is the best way to describe Still Alice's beauty. The brilliantly subtle cinematography that is intensely intimate and blurs when Alice's world is blurring around her. The brilliantly subtle screenplay that creates perfected characters with the most real dialogue a movie can give you and sets up the most crushing and non-melodramatic scenarios for its main character, resembling the reality of Alzheimer's. And of course, the brilliantly subtle performances, especially of the central character by Moore, who deserves every praise and award given to her and more. It's still an important film, more than just a drama to pointlessly depress you out of your mind. Well it's kinda that, but it, in all it's melancholy, inspires such hope and positivity: to live in and appreciate the moment, to remember those with any mental disability are still human and treat them as such, and to cherish all the memories and knowledge we have, because as this brutal mirror to reality showed, you never know when it will all slip away.
1. Guardians of the Galaxy
Because Guardians of the Galaxy is not a perfect movie at all, while other films put in lower spots definitely are. It's villain is completely underdeveloped, Glenn Close and John C. Reilly are barely in it and essentially do nothing, I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that I waited throughout all of the credits to get a scene with Howard the Duck. But...oh my god, how I missed having adrenaline fueled fun while watching a movie. I still love The Dark Knight, The Avengers, Iron Man, those darker and grittier comic book adaptations, but it's so incredibly refreshing to see a film so outside of the norm of the Comic book film renaissance. It’s never brooding or grisly, rarely even serious about itself. Guardians is simply a film with the unusual goal of being a lighthearted action film that wants the audience to laugh and smile the whole time, and it goes above and beyond that goal easily. Every joke lands, every character connects, and every visual strikes. Out of all of Marvel’s films, it’s Guardians that has some of it’s most likable characters in it’s main ensemble of five, from the cocky yet grounded Starlord to the cuddly amazingness that is Groot, each of our main characters are given emotional heft and a surprising amount of dimension, on top of hilarious personalities that bounce against each other perfectly. If Dark Knight perfected the sophisticated and mature dialogue in superhero movies, Guardians has perfected witty banter and comedic dialogue in the same. The jokes, which are all fairly smart are never badly made references and low-brow humor, consistently induce belly laughs, and are so well written and energetically delivered that they truly carry the movie smoothly over its few bumpy spots. Although the look of the film, saturated colors and bright neons, help as well, making the movie visually pop and feel like a retro comic book
Guardians also has one of the most synchronized and together ensemble casts in recent Hollywood memory. Chris Pratt as Starlord, Bradley Cooper as Rocket Raccoon, Zoe Saldana as Gamora, Dave Bautista as Drax, and especially Vin Diesel in his oscar worthy role as Groot all come together. In any scene involving any dialogue or action between any of them, they deliver. It's fascinating to look at the wildly different Hollywood personalities behind the characters: the everyman turned star Chris Pratt, action starlet Zoe Saldana, the oscar nominated, the rising unknown, and the...Diesel...the personalities play in subtle ways and mix with the defined personalities of the characters. But it's not just seeing these varying actor backgrounds that add an engaging layer to the ensemble, it's the genuine connection the actors clearly have. It feels like they're more than just actors forced to work together, like there actually is a bond there. Wether it was all forced or not, it was seamlessly done, and brought out a lot of the movie's heart.
So no, Guardians isn't a perfect film, one of the most flawed on the list actually, but there's a heart, soul, and passion to it that you don't get out of Hollywood action a lot, and the genuine efforts to be individual with it's offbeat comedy and bright neon colors shines through. Every film on this list is great, but Guardians of the Galaxy is so enjoyable and beautifully, unabashedly irreverent, that it's hard not to instantly fall in love with it in the first five minutes and want to return to it again and again after it's over. It's one of those films that you feel blue after it ends cause you want to stay in the world, keep following the characters, and that is why it just might be the best film of 2014.
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