Best of 2021

At the beginning of my last “best of” post, I hoped 2021 would be better than 2020. Sure, with this year came my long-awaited departure from where I spent most of the pandemic, but the positivity I associate with this year is also hugely in part to these books, albums, shows, and films. So enjoy, as I attempt to provide a comprehensive list of recommendations while also not spoiling any of the content.


Books

Going back to our roots with this section. Surprisingly, 2021 was actually a pretty good reading year for me, or at least it was better than many years previous. Do I know (or honestly even pay attention to) the so-called anticipated books that came out this year? Absolutely not, but I sure had a good time reading these.

Slaughterhouse Five — Kurt Vonnegut

For someone who’s been told that she “gives off the vibe that [she] reads a lot,” I haven’t actually read many of the so-called classics in American literature. I don’t exactly know how I feel about that (I question why certain books and media are classified as classics in the first place) but I do know that there are still certain novels that I just have always been meaning to read but never got around to, and Slaughterhouse Five was one of them. I won’t get into a full literary analysis right now because that’s just unnecessary, but I enjoyed this book far more than I thought I would, and it completely took me by surprise — I mean, I didn’t know a single thing about the plot before reading. I tore through this at a pace that rivals my own when I was 10, and that’s saying something. It’s simple yet so utterly complex and that contrast just made the whole thing feel, for lack of a better word, profound.

 

Fight Club — Chuck Palahniuk

I found out Fight Club is a novel from the end credits of Fight Club the film. I honestly didn’t know whether I wanted to read the book, because so much of the experience of the film is not knowing the true nature of the characters — hence why I read this book two years after I saw the film. But honestly, Fight Club still works, even knowing the plot; I’d even go as far to say it works better, because you can trace the hints placed about [REDACTED] and see how everything comes together. Palahniuk’s writing style somehow seems to perfectly match the tone of the film, which is an adaptational feat if I’ve ever seen one. I don’t know if I’d recommend reading this or watching the film first, but I’d definitely recommend both — they notably have almost opposing endings, making their end notes feel vastly different.

 

Mister Impossible — Maggie Stiefvater

In the now 4-year history of me making these “best of” posts (O.G. fans know the Original Blog That Shall Not Be Named), every time Maggie Stiefvater has released a book, it’s ended up on this list. Despite this novel’s mildly unfortunate title and cover, it’s a great read. The second of a trilogy, you definitely need the context of the first novel (and perhaps the original series that this trilogy is based on), but all of the books are such quick reads it wouldn’t actually be that hard to catch up, if you wanted (I’ve read every one of the books in no more than two days). This book was weirdly painful, in that all the characters and their relationships are pulling apart, chaos ensuing. Logically, I know that this is happening so that everything can be tied up in the final book in the trilogy, but emotionally it’s a roller coaster. I’ve been ride-or-die for Ronan Lynch since 2014, and this novel just solidified that.


Music

My music taste this year kind of went haywire. An unexpected side-effect of not being in cars regularly is that I just don’t listen to the radio anymore, so I have no idea what’s popular. (Did I not know who Olivia Rodrigo is until June? Maybe, but we don’t have to talk about that). That said, I thoroughly enjoyed these albums, and attempted to highlight ones that came out this year, though frankly it’s a little impossible given my taste.

Optimist — Finneas

When this album came out I listened to it on repeat. And not in a “on repeat but really just once a day” kind of way, but literally on repeat — the album looped from top to tail multiple times a day for nearly two weeks straight. Finneas has always made music that’s simultaneously uplifting and melancholic, music that has the hardest beats you’ve heard under lyrics that make you want to sob. It’s an art, and he’s mastered it. Personal favorites on this album include “Only A Lifetime,” “Hurt Locker,” and “Around My Neck,” with an underdog (no pun intended) in “Peaches Etude.” Need to feel Every Emotion but also want something to bounce your leg to? Listen to Optimist.

 

Show Pony — Orville Peck

2021 was the year of Orville Peck, at least for me. I found his music in May and subsequently tormented everyone I know into either listening to him or listening to me refuse to shut up about him. (And after seeing him open for Harry Styles, I won’t shut up any time soon). Orville is country music. And I won’t get into the whole “current pop country music and older storytelling-based country that had stronger rock influences are two completely different beasts and the former is largely commercialized” argument, so I’ll say this: Orville Peck’s voice is incredible. I feel like I haven’t noticed that about an artist in a while, but his tone and control are stunning, to say nothing of his ability to yodel and whistle in tune. His songs have a distinct storytelling quality to them, speaking to his own life and ones he’s just imagined. I don’t know if I’ve done enough to convince you to listen to him, but if I have…come talk to me.

 

Led Zeppelin IV — Led Zeppelin

This album turned 50 this year. 50! In a weird way Led Zeppelin has always been present in my life, though honestly mostly in the form of “Stairway to Heaven” at karaoke nights. I grew up familiar with groups like ABBA, Queen, and Pink Floyd, so consciously making a decision this year to listen to Zeppelin didn’t feel like I was straying too far from the familiar. That said, I did not expect to love this band as much as I now do. Something about the tone of both Robert Plant’s voice and the actual instruments just works with my ears, and this absolutely legendary album quickly made its way into my regular rotation.

 

Fear Fun — Father John Misty

I have this vague, nondescript memory of seeing Father John Misty perform while watching the Grammy’s one year. I couldn’t tell you what I thought about it, because frankly I have no idea, but I can tell you that I actually sat down and listened to him this year, and was blown away. His almost-folk, acoustic sound is honestly rare to find these days (or maybe I’m not looking hard enough), and works so well when coupled with his underlying (and sometimes overt) political and social commentary. He’s making music about the times we’re living in, which to me means that we’ll be listening to it for years to come.

 

Vol. 2 — Radio Company

I’m going to avoid explaining how I found Radio Company because, frankly, it’s a little embarrassing, but that has nothing to do with how good this album is. Radio Company is a direct product of people who grew up listening to classic rock and wanted to try to recreate that sound and feeling in the present day. Where their first album leaned into that idea heavily, this sophomore record used it as a basis while creating sounds that are more unique and updated, something I appreciated a lot. Not to say that their first album is bad by any measure, but more that you can tell that the duo behind the name is slowly starting to find their own sound. I had “Quarter To” on repeat this summer, and if this description sounds like your cup of tea, you probably will too.


Television

The mere existence of Ted Lasso on this list makes 2021 a good year for TV. Honestly I kind of fell off a bit when it comes to television, but here are some shows I saw this year that I thought were fantastic.

Ted Lasso, Apple TV+

For the life of me I cannot remember why, but I actively avoided watching Ted Lasso when its first season was airing. Something about mid-pandemic brain and a logline involving soccer were too much for me to handle, so I just decided to miss out. But this past summer, I fell fully into the rabbit hole of this show. It hooked me in in a way that not many shows have been able to, and between its brilliant writing, hilarious cast of characters, and, what I now begrudgingly admit is an incredibly solid premise, I couldn’t recommend this show enough. And if I’m not enough to convince you, maybe its four Emmys will.

 

Sex Education, Netflix

I always get nervous when Netflix shows reach their third seasons, but this season of Sex Education did not disappoint. I’ve been watching since it first started, and this show continues to both break boundaries and tell a story filled with some really genuine and wonderful-to-watch characters. It’s funny and heartfelt, timely and dramatic, and I am so, so glad it’s still as good as the day it started.

 

Loki, Disney+

I’ve been…off Marvel lately. Something about the movies and TV shows including and after Avengers: Endgame just haven’t brought me the joy that these stories used to. After being disappointed by WandaVision and TFATWS, I had very low hopes for Loki. Yet despite them, I was blown away. The small cast of characters combined with the solid aesthetic choices made this show supremely enjoyable, not to mention its addicting theme music.

 

Shameless, Showtime

After the Supernatural series finale debacle, I had convinced myself it’s impossible to end a decades-long show well. But Shameless proved me wrong. This show has been in my life sporadically since middle school (I saw a little then, stopped, saw a little in high school, stopped, and finally finished it over quarantine as its last season aired), but this show ended in a way that I thought was perfect for both what it is and has been, and how these characters have grown. There were, of course, rough patches in the middle of its run, but all things considered, Shameless ended so well that I feel compelled to start it again from the beginning.

 

Succession, HBO

The pilot took me three tries to get through, but after that, I was hooked. Succession seems like the type of show that we’re supposed to hate, but between its genius writing, accolade-worthy cinematography, and performances of the century all-around, this show’s success (ha!) makes sense. This is not a show about good people, but that’s kind of the point. You hate them and want them to fail but you love them and want them to succeed. Still following? If there’s any show on this list that you watch, let it be this one, and when you do, tell me.


Movies

Somehow, against all odds, I watched over a hundred movies this year. Given that fact, this list is twice as long as the previous one. Call me a stereotypical film kid but I just couldn’t cut this down any more. But to spare us all, the blurbs are shorter than they usually are.

Locke (2013), dir. by Steven Knight

This film took me by surprise. To be completely upfront I initially clicked on it because it stars Tom Hardy (though the realization that Steven Knight [Peaky Blinders] wrote and directed it was welcome), but this film is a masterclass in structure, storytelling, and working with what you have. You’d think a film with one on-screen actor and one location would be boring, and yet.

 

Inside (2021), dir. by Bo Burnham

The sheer number of times I saw this Netflix special in a span of two months should not be spoken aloud. Long-awaited on my part, Inside was everything I needed it to be and nothing I expected. It’s an honest testament to life in the pandemic, a technical feat, and 90 minutes of perfectly-thought-out musical satire. I could talk endlessly about it so I won’t go on, but please watch Inside.

 

10 Things I Hate About You (1999), dir. by Gil Junger

Who doesn’t love a good high school romcom? I finally saw this film this year, and it was nowhere near what I expected. Everything from an adorably awkward Joseph Gordon-Levitt to the pure joy in Heath Ledger’s musical sequence to how well it’s aged made this just a pleasure to watch. Also the fact that this is based on The Taming of the Shrew somehow just makes it more magical.

 

My Own Private Idaho (1991), dir. by Gus Van Sant

Another loose Shakespeare adaptation! Broadly adapted from Henry IV, this film is a little vague and winding but no more than expected (I also did not realize this was an adaption at first and thought they just Spoke Like That). I truly believed in River Phoenix’s and Keanu Reeves’ characters’ relationship, which is the crux of this film, and what makes it both compelling and ultimately tragic.

 

The Last Black Man in San Francisco (2019), dir. by Joe Talbot

This film is gorgeous, inside and out. It’s simultaneously a love letter to San Francisco and a callout for the inequity that sits underneath the million tech companies and permanent layer of fog. It’s just one of those films that is so clearly crafted with care, that so clearly is based on the real experiences of the creator, that you can’t help but sit back and just take it in.

 

The Green Knight (2021), dir. by David Lowery

I was waiting a…long time for this film to come out (notably I mentioned it in last year’s “best of” post). The Green Knight is gorgeous and confusing and well-acted and slow and suspenseful. It simultaneously has a lot and nothing going on, but I enjoyed it much more than I expected to. Director David Lowery explains the core of the story best: “more important than legacy is being a human being with integrity and goodness in their heart.”

 

The Dark Knight (2008), dir. by Christopher Nolan

The turnaround I’ve had since freshman year of college and not knowing who Christopher Nolan is to now having seen almost all of his films except one (Following, 1999, which is notoriously hard to find) is absurd. I watched the Dark Knight trilogy in succession and while they met my expectations in some ways, they vastly exceeded them in others. It’s no secret that Heath Ledger’s Joker is the blueprint and his performance makes this film.

 

Eighth Grade (2018), dir. by Bo Burnham

Okay, so we’ve already established that Bo Burnham can somehow see into my soul, and his feature directorial debut with Eighth Grade is no exception. This film falls in the same category as Booksmart (2019, Olivia Wilde) for me. That is to say, it’s a movie about young people that feels like it’s actually made for young people. It feels honest and genuine, in a way that a lot of young adult content fails to.

 

Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid (1969), dir. by George Roy Hill

This movie is 31 years older than me so I guess I’m a bit late, but I thoroughly enjoyed this western. It relies on the relationship between Cassidy and Sundance, and Newman and Redford absolutely sell it. You watch it knowing almost nothing about their pasts or their futures, but that seems kind of like it’s the point. Cassidy and Sundance live in the moment, and for 111 minutes, you can too.

Broadcast News (1973), dir. by James L. Brooks

Suddenly, everything Aaron Sorkin has written makes sense (not to say that it didn’t before). Broadcast News manages to perfectly balance a complicated plot to the backdrop of world and societal issues with genuine characters who you can’t help but root for. It doesn’t end the way a more stereotypical film would, and for that I’m grateful.

 

Sound of Metal (2019), dir. by Darius Marder

Little did I know that randomly seeing Misha Collins on my screen while watching last year’s Oscars would lead to this. I’m not even going to dignify that last sentence by trying to explain it, but I will say that this film is perfectly hyped. It is truly so compelling, and Riz Ahmed’s performance sells the whole thing. I have nothing else to add other than to please, please read this Letterboxd review. And watch the film.

 

Ocean’s Eleven (2001), dir. by Steven Soderbergh

I saw this film for the first time this year (I know, I know) and promptly saw it again a few months later. We could talk about the cast or the legacy or the actual craft of this film for ages, but what I do want to talk about is style. There’s no other word for it, this film is just stylish. It knows what it wants to be and owns it to the fullest potential, so much so that you just can’t help but buy in yourself.

 

Matthias et Maxime (2019), dir. by Xavier Dolan

2021 was the year of me rediscovering Xavier Dolan. His debut film J’ai tué ma Mère has been my favorite since I first saw it in 2015, and it’s been incredible watching him grow since then. This film is, stylistically, one of the strongest I’ve seen. It’s gorgeously shot, and the friend group at the center of the story feels genuine, and easy to watch.

 

His Girl Friday (1940), dir. by Howard Hawks

My roommate watched a Howard Hawks movie every week for this past semester, and a side effect of that was that I ended up seeing a few myself. His Girl Friday is so absurdly fun, in the way that only old comedies are. The dialogue is absolutely bonkers (I mean, it really is a feat if you’re able to understand everything) but so worth it.

 

50/50 (2011), dir. by Jonathan Levine

I think I could endlessly watch Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Seth Rogen riff off each other. This film is the perfect mix of funny, heartfelt, and tragic. I could talk about performance or story, but more than anything else, these characters feel real. Maybe it’s because it’s based on a true story, but every person in this movie feels like a person, which, in all honesty these days, is a rarity.

 

Under the Silver Lake (2018), dir. by David Robert Mitchell

This film took me by surprise, mostly in that logically I was wondering when something huge would happen (only for —spoiler — it to never come) but it still had me hooked the entire time. It’s wonderfully styled, and walks the line between creepy, quirky, and funny. I won’t say it’s without fault, but I will say that right after finishing it I really liked it, but a day after I finished it, I liked it even more.

 

Pride (2014), dir. by Matthew Warchus

There are a lot of historical fiction films out there, but this is one of my favorite types, the ones that highlight a portion of history that’s been overlooked, or is so absurd that it seems impossible. This story is both of those, and in addition to being educational, the film is artfully crafted, balancing the history it leans on and the story of its original character very well. It’s also so well-acted, with its breakout/standout stars Andrew Scott, Dominic West, and George MacKay all carrying the story.

 

Mommy (2015), dir. by Xavier Dolan

You’d think a movie shot in a 1:1 aspect ratio would feel claustrophobic, but you soon get used to it, and that’s kind of the point. Dolan has played with aspect ratios before, but never to this extent, which is what makes this film so interesting. Its thesis of “love isn’t enough,” seems dismal enough, but this story is just told so well, its strong performances accentuated by the editing choices.

 

The Social Network (2010), dir. by David Fincher

Okay, so I have seen this film before, but watching it this year was an entirely new experience. No matter the film, you’ll never be able to recreate or relive the experience of seeing something for the first time again, but that’s not the goal with this film. Beyond it being absolutely incredible from a craft perspective, the viewing experience of this movie as the years go on and Facebook (or should I say Meta?) is increasingly in the news is indescribable.

 

Warrior (2011), dir. by Gavin O'Connor

Me? Completely forgetting to add one of the best movies I saw this year to this list? It’s more likely than you think. Warrior has an unmistakable energy about it. Whether or not you know anything about or frankly even care about MMA, this film grabs you with both hands and refuses to let go for nearly two and a half hours. A lot of movies nowadays feel longer than their already long run-times, but this felt so much shorter. Watch Warrior. I can guarantee you’ll like it more than you think you will.


Honorable Mention: All of This Unreal Time (2021), short film, dir. by Aoife McArdle

 
 

More like spoken word than a monologue or, daresay, dialogue, this short film follows an unnamed character played by Cillian Murphy as he walks, runs, and occasionally sits down in a city at night. Seemingly contemplating life, relationships, the world, and every other possibly weighty topic at once, the words of this film somehow pair perfectly with the neon lights and bleak colors of the visuals. This used to be available on Vimeo (though unfortunately no longer is) but if you can somehow get your hands on it, I would highly recommend it. It’s one of the best short films I’ve seen, and left me thinking for weeks.


That’s all, folks!

Here’s a final meme that I think accurately depicts this past year, just because:

 
 

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