Scattered 2023 Movies in Review

Scattered 2023 Movies in Review

By Sarah Jester | December 27, 2023

Preface: I’m writing this before I’ve seen Poor Things. Shoot me!

PERSONAL FAVORITE: The Boy and the Heron (sub)

Hayao Miyazaki’s swan song is -- appropriately -- filled to the brim with birds of all feathers. A heartbreaking and sincere meditation on legacy, Miyazaki reckons with what we leave behind in a world that doesn’t promise us tomorrow. In The Boy and the Heron, the lines between blood & chosen family blur and run together as Mahito embarks upon a quest to recover his newly adopted mother, Natsuko, the younger sister of his late biological mother, Hisako, from an eerily paralleled oceanic landscape residing far beneath the confines of the familiar world.

Miyazaki reminds us that in a largely absurd world filled with war, death, and destruction, people are all we’ve got. But what of the world itself? With thirteen films under his belt, the acclaimed director alludes to his legacy in the form of thirteen wooden blocks that are precariously balanced and rearranged each day by the wizard, who alone guarantees that we live to see another day. Our world does not take kindly to consistency, nor was it constructed with longevity in mind. The blocks will always fall -- the company we keep until that moment sustains us. 

Studio Ghibli’s latest is stunning as always. Love is king; parakeets are not.

GREW ON ME: The Iron Claw

This year, Sean Durkin’s The Iron Claw took a stab at honoring the legacy of the Von Erich family wrestling dynasty. Although Durkin’s personal passion for the Von Erichs and professional wrestling rings true, many technical elements of the film fail to blend together seamlessly. 

Yes, Durkin nails casting, stunts, and costuming. But the arrangement of the screenplay fails to pack a real punch. When dealing with such devastating and sensitive subject matter, the film would have benefited greatly from quicker pacing in the second act. Viewers flounder between each subsequent family tragedy without a true anchor point.

Durkin’s treatment of the women in the Von Erichs’ lives parallels these issues. Lily James’ Pam Adkisson and Maura Tierney’s Doris “Dottie” Von Erich are mere afterthoughts on the film’s part, with Dottie being given about 30 seconds of character development and empowerment in the last five minutes. Durkin’s reverement of the Von Erichs is evident, but he seems lost within their world.

To add, The Iron Claw is missing any significant visceral impact within its soundscape. Certainly, boxing and wrestling have their differences, but recent peers like Creed don’t shy away from a good foley artist. The film fails to lean into any of the imitable audio characteristics of a wrestling ring -- even the roar of the crowd feels muted. The punches don’t truly land unless you can hear them.

On to the good. It seems to me that Harris Dickinson and Stanley Simons have been largely overlooked throughout awards nomination season despite delivering arguably the most poignant performances of the entire film. Although Zac Efron and Jeremy Allen White have received most of the online acclaim, Dickinson and Simons are indisputably rising stars and deliver justice to David and Mike Von Erich, respectively.

However, Efron and White do single-handedly inspire the creation of some kind of bodybuilding category at the Oscars. Aside from their impressive stunt work in the ring, they are, frankly, difficult to look at directly. Forgive me, dear readers, but they are BULGING. If you poked Zac Efron with a pin he would pop.

I originally wrote: 

I’m sure this was a meaningful personal project for Durkin. But it fails to translate to the screen from the inner confines of his mind.

After a lot of reflection, I want to take this back. The Iron Claw wrestles with toxic masculinity on a level that is challenging for men to approach. It’s a beautiful story of brotherhood.

STUCK WITH ME: Asteroid City

Asteroid City has made me sob upon each rewatch (four!). This year, I’ve struggled a lot with telling stories because I don’t always understand where my own story is going; nor do I feel that I have the technical capacity to give the most meaningful stories their due. 

“I still don’t understand the play,” admits Jason Schwartzman.

“Doesn’t matter. Just keep telling the story,” Adrien Brody reassures him.

Any creative is bound to feel at home with sentiments like writers’ block or imposter syndrome. Who fucking cares? No one knows what’s going on. Who are we to say we know anything? Tell your story. Or any story.

This was one of my favorite soundscapes of the year. Alexandre Desplat is back in all his blazing glory, blending curiosity, hope, insecurity, and earnest resolve into a muted yet formidable score. Fathers everywhere fell head over heels for the classic Western soundtrack, which boasted familiar favorites from Tex Ritter, Slim Whitman, and Tennessee Ernie Ford, to name a few. Bookended by Johnny Duncan & the Bluegrass Boys’ “Last Train to San Fernando” and The Chas McDevitt Skiffle Group’s “Freight Train,” Asteroid City is an unforgettable train ride (sorry) through the world as we don’t know it.