2020 is a shitty year. The pandemic forced everyone to stay inside their homes, lest be a possible victim of the highly contagious, and in some cases, fatal coronavirus. In my case though, it wasn’t only COVID-19 that made me stay at home, but also unemployment. As a self-professed introvert, the comfort of my room can be more favorable than being outside with people. But humans are social animals and the months spent inside and away from friends and strangers took a toll on everyone, extrovert and introvert alike. We do what we can to cope, which for me was to consume as much fiction as I can, in whatever form it presented itself. This is the first time I’ve read more than a handful of books or watched more than ten films in a long time. That is why instead of picking one (1) title as the best and/or my favorite of the year (it’s impossible, difficult, and frankly, unfair to the unchosen but still compelling ones), I’ve decided to list down my top five (5) of everything. Most of these did get a five-star rating/review from me, but some are simply memorable and affecting despite the objective four or four-and-a-half stars I’ve given it.
To start things off, books! I’ve participated in the Goodreads Annual Personal Reading Challenge since 2016, but this is the first time when I not only met my target number of books read, but also exceeded it. Among the 43 books (and two still-ongoing reads) I’ve consumed this year, these are my top reads:
King is one of the most well-known American writers and rightfully so. He can spin up a tale and tell a story expertly. The Green Mile is about Paul Edgecombe, the prison guard of the convicts awaiting the day of their death sentence, whose life was changed when the infamous criminal John Coffey was submitted to his care. Weaving fantastical elements with stark and grisly realism and presenting deeply human and complex characters, this is Stephen King at his best. (Read my full review here.)
After reading this, my theory about novels with monochromatic book covers has been yet again proven to be true. My theory goes: If a novel has a monochromatic book cover, brace yourself because you’re about to be emotionally tortured. So far, this was true with Yanagihara’s A Little Life and Siken’s Crush. And Lie with Me, with its black-and-white photograph of a boy as its cover, broke me. This coming-of-age story, told in a flashback, of two boys was simple. In fact, the novel runs in less than 200 pages and can be finished in one sitting. However, Besson’s words and Ringwald’s translation took us in such an emotionally potent stroll in the boys’ lives. (Read my full review here.)
As a Greek mythology geek, it’s almost unsurprising that this is one of my favorite reads of the year. Additionally, this was written by Miller, who penned my favorite novel of all time, The Song of Achilles. However, I delayed reading this because I was afraid that I’d dislike it. You know, the whole sophomore slump thing or because she wrote TSoA and that feat wouldn’t be replicated again. Well, it wasn’t, because this novel was a different book altogether than her debut. This time, Miller retold the story of Circe and what a tale she shared. Ever-present was her simplistic yet elegant prose, but this time it felt more personal. I couldn’t compare this to TSoA and it shouldn’t really be. Circe was a feat on its own. (Read my full review here.)
How do I even talk about this book without becoming a puddle of giddiness and tears? Although the premise seemed too wondrous to be real and a bit utopic—in fact, the first part was written like your typically trope-y and saccharine romcom—McQuiston made sure that the story was grounded in reality. And don’t gay people deserve a fairy tale of their own? (Read my full review here.)
The Time Machine by H.G. Wells - Arguably, this is the blueprint of the subsequent time travel stories, but this still remained inimitable and singular. (Read my full review here.)
The Charioteer by Mary Renault - A brave, trail-blazing queer story set in WWII, told with startling openness and tenderness by Renault. (Read my full review here.)
The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa - Strange plot told with sophisticated and deceptively simple prose, this is a remarkable piece of Japanese modern literature. (Read my full review here.)
I rarely read nonfiction, but I’m so glad I stumbled across this memoir. This is the most engrossing book I’ve read this year and one of the most heartfelt and touching. Walls told the story of her strange family who are more than what people see from the outside. She was as honest as she possibly could and while she wrote with straightforward prose, it still brimmed with emotions raw and deeply affecting. I declared it to be the best book of the year when I read this back in May and months and novels later, it was still true. (Read my full review here.)
Without further ado, let’s move on to my top five films of the year.
I love a whodunit, and Knives Out is probably one of my favorites of the categorical fiction. While he still used the usual tropes and mysteries, Rian Johnson made sure it was with a fresh and modern take. With a stellar cast, lead by Daniel Craig as the ambiguously accented detective Benoit Blanc, incredible directing and writing (both by Johnson), this is a really fun and unforgettable film. (Read my full review here.)
I’ve been watching works by Thai director Ter Nawapol after being so in love with his 2019 film Happy Old Year and this movie, Heart Attack, might be one of his best. Workaholic graphic artist Yoon (Sunny Suwanmethanon) has taken pride in the fact that he can work nonstop for days and nights. But when his immense stress and exhaustion took the form of an illness which hindered him, he met the young doctor Imm (Davika Hoorne) and struck a friendship with her. This is Thamrongrattanarit’s take on a romcom, but, of course, infused with his signature strange style and storytelling. So don’t expect a happy, borderline cringey romcom with this one, especially with that alarming last part. However, expect a well-acted, well-written, and well-directed story of two people who tear down their own walls for each other. (Read my full review here.)
Hettie MacDonald has this incredible ability of making the small emotions of her characters more special and significant (she did the same thing with another title in this list) and in Beautiful Thing, she did that and more. What a tender film about queer coming-of-age, portrayed by young actors Glen Berry and Scott Neal. MacDonald framed the boys in gentle light or embracing darkness to bring out the extent and the fullness of their suppressed emotions. Additionally, Jonathan Harvey’s screenplay (based on his play of the same title) was memorable, funny, and heartfelt. (Read my full review here.)
This film is more important and groundbreaking than one can imagine. Telling the story of two rival male dancers, And Then We Danced was as electric and moving as the dances featured in it. Levan Gelbakhiani and Bachi Valishvili were amazing as the leads Merab and Irakli. And that final scene when Merab finally broke free of the tradition and other chains that put him down and danced as freely as he could was beautifully heartbreaking. (Read my full review here.)
Happiest Season (2020) dir. Clea Duvall - Sapphics now have their own holiday film, sans the cringe acting and theme. Kristen Stewart was so fun to watch here. And actually, while Sapphics are the stars of the movie, the themes and the conflicts in here are somewhat representative of the overall queer experience. (Read my full review here.)
Disclosure (2020) dir. Sam Feder - This documentary about the trans representation in media, starting from the earliest films up to the modern ones as discussed by actual trans people, actors, and writers is incredible. (My Letterboxd rating of the film is here.)
Fallen Angels (1995) dir. Wong Kar-wai - A funnier and livelier version of Chungking Express, but still as original and visually and thematically stunning, this film about the people of the night is remarkable. (Read my full review here.)
Riveting, whimsical, confusing, and extremely weird are some of the adjectives one can associate with the filmmaker Charlie Kaufman and he embraced all these and embodied it with his latest film, based on a book of the same title by Iain Reid. As someone who read the novel, I can say that the movie is less confusing and strange than its source. Moreover, Kaufman presented a much better and much improved version of the story. Led by Jessie Buckley in a revelatory role, this family film arrayed a talented cast and remarkable writing and directing. While admittedly this will polarize the audience, the artistry and the singularity of Kaufman is amazing to watch. (Read my full review here.)
When films become too long and too attention-taxing, I turn to TV series with its segmented, and hence, much easier-to-watch format. I’ve watched about a handful of shows this year, but these titles are some of the best I’ve seen.
This show is about the whirlwind romance of Connell and Marianne, beginning from their trysts while in high school, and continuing, on and off, in their college and adult years. Not too original, to tell the truth. A friend who read the novel prior called it boring, even. And one memorable review (whom I will quote if I can remember where I read it) said that after reading, one will realize that the two leads are in fact normal people, in every sense of the word. However, Abrahamson and MacDonald’s gentle directing and their remarkable ability of bringing out the best out of the mediocre and simply human emotions (as a matter of fact, Abrahamson was nominated for an Oscar for Best Directing, for his 2015 work Room—which was also nominated for Best Picture and gave the lead Brie Larson her Oscar for Best Actress), partnered by the spectacular and promising performances by Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal made the story much more unforgettable. For his performance as Connell, Mescal was nominated for an Emmy. That’s just one of the proofs that Normal People is indeed one of the best shows of the year.
Adapted from the yaoi manga of the same name, this Japanese show is about Adachi (Eiji Akaso) who was bestowed a magical power of being capable of reading other people’s thoughts through touch on his 30th year of being a virgin and his workmate, the perfect Kurosawa (Keita Machida) who he learned was in love with him. This was the perfect boys’ love show. It was sweet, but not saccharine and emotional, but not too sentimental. Through stares, smiles, and loving gestures and glances, Adachi and Kurosawa made me fall in love with love more. And yes, I did giddy-scream a lot across twelve episodes.
2020 is the year I’ve been introduced (and eventually found myself immersed to) in Thai dramas. While some of the shows I’ve seen are mediocre to good, I Told Sunset About You is the best among the Thai titles I’ve seen. This stirring coming-of-age (emphasis on this, because there has been a debate whether to call it as such or BL, but director Boss Naruebet called this a coming-of-age tale so I would call the show the same way) of Teh (Billkin Putthipong Assaratanakul) and Oh-Aew (PP Krit Amnuaydechkorn) set in peaceful Phuket was brilliantly done. Boss Naruebet choosing to tell the story in five episodes, instead of the usual 10/12-episode (however, in the end, it was revealed that a five-episode Part 2 will be shown in March, but with a different director) is just one of the many smart and memorable artistic decisions done for the show. The cinematography and score were equally beautiful, but so was Billkin and PP’s portrayal of the emotionally troubled teens.
I know nothing about chess, but this thrilling drama about the prodigy Elizabeth Harmon’s (portrayed by the magnificent Anya Taylor-Joy) rise to fame in the world of the men-dominated sport fascinated me so much. This was Taylor-Joy’s best performance to date. She brought so much complexity and humanity to the remarkable character. And you really don’t have to be that acquainted with chess to appreciate this, because if there’s a trait Harmon shared with everyone, it’s the desire to win and to do anything in her power to achieve that goal.
Killing Eve (2018– ) - This series featuring a cat-and-mouse game between the assassin Villanelle (Jodie Comer) and the MI6 agent Eve Polastri (Sandra Oh) and their eventual twisted and romantic relationship was addictive to watch. Excited for the next season!
The Shipper (2020) dir. Aticha Tanthanawigrai - Infusing spiritual elements and utilizing the topic of reincarnation, The Shipper is unlike any BL you’ve probably already seen. This was marketed as a romantic-comedy, but that ending broke me in ways unimaginable. Impressively done and produced, this is a really good show. (You can read the long-fiction I wrote where I provided an alternate ending to The Shipper here.)
Gameboys (2020) dir. Ivan Andrew Payawal - This was the beginning of the still flourishing BL scene in the Philippines and also the blueprint of the ones told in video-meeting footage and other social media-styled format. Elijah Canlas was amazing as Cairo, a teenage boy who played online games to stream in a website, wherein he met Gavreel (Kokoy de Santos) who would annoy his way into his life and heart.
Raw, cathartic, and harrowing, this show created, written, co-directed, produced, and starred by Michaela Coel is the best series I’ve seen not only this year, but of all time. Coel starred as Arabella, a writer whose life was turned upside-down after being assaulted one night with no memory of what happened. In half episode segments, Arabella unraveled what really happened and tried to live as normally as she possibly could after it happened. And that conclusion was one of the best series enders I’ve seen. Really topnotch show. Nothing came close to the brilliance of it all.
And there you have it, my top five reads, films, and TV. Hopefully 2021 will let me read and watch more, but without the terrifying virus lingering outside our homes. Stay safe and Happy New Year!
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