必须要有老吉哪

10. The Babadook【鬼书】
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Horror aficionados love to talk up how effective the genre can be at concocting monsters that serve as metaphors for life. But too often, those metaphors fall apart under any kind of scrutiny. The great horror films know how to spin truly resonant parables. And The Babadook is great. First-rate construction and some fantastically unsettling atmosphere act as the vector for a devastating story about loss and grief. And the film sticks to that conceit, not just using it as a jumping-off point but following it until its haunting, beautiful, perfect ending. – Daniel Schindel

8. Guardians of the Galaxy 【银河护卫队】
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There are reasons aplenty that Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy should hold a place on any list of 2014′s best films. Aesthetically, Guardians is a bold break away from the dominant aesthetic style of many contemporary science fiction films, with their muted, drab color palettes and Transformers-inspired mechanical designs. Guardians is a visual feast, with a bright, varied range of color and striking, interesting visuals and designs. The film’s soundtrack, composed entirely of 70s pop/rock songs, gives Guardians a unique and memorable soundscape, but does so while at the same time cleverly tying that soundtrack into the plot, making it (and the object it stems from) an important factor in the film rather than just a striking detail in the film’s design. Continuing with the retro theme, Guardians embraces a space opera formula that has been largely absent from cinema screens for years, taking audiences through fantastical locations and pitched space battles, with post-2000s snark and attitude balanced with operatic grandeur and drama. But beyond the aesthetics, the soundtrack, the return to space opera adventure, what makes Guardians of the Galaxy such a singular experience is that it represents the exceedingly rare summer blockbuster with real emotional weight. While other summer effects spectacles make haphazard attempts to create a connection with their audiences, Guardians is able to present moments of genuine emotion in the midst of larger than life space adventure. From the disarmingly affecting opening scene (“Take my hand, Peter….”) to simple but powerful moments of grief (“I called him an idiot….”) Guardians isn’t afraid to take momentary breaks from being an exceedingly fun sci-fi romp to present emotional content that for once feels sincere. On that alone, Guardians of the Galaxy is a true triumph. – Thomas O’Connor

7. Snowpiercer 【雪国列车】
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Bong Joon-ho’s dystopian classic seemed doomed for derailment, as it battled studio interference and a limited theatrical release. That Snowpiercer became a VOD juggernaut is a testament to its flawless blend of style and substance. Chris Pine leads a railway jailbreak through increasingly bizarre worlds, each imbued with its own visual personality. Gilliam-esque surrealism and brutal, gritty violence punctuate each signpost, with Joon-ho gradually revealing the elegance of his thematic design; the closer Pine gets to freedom, the more thoroughly enslaved he becomes. Together with co-writer Kelly Masterson, Joon-ho preserves Snowpiercer’s pulpy roots as a graphic novel while still expanding the narrative reach far beyond this frozen tin can. Wisely, all heady reflections on systemic tyranny are saved until the finale, long after we’re under the spell of its impeccable action set pieces. Whether it’s the perilous crossing of an icy bridge, or intimate warfare with a gang of ogre-like minions, Joon-ho throws us into the desperate center of his claustrophobic nightmare. Endlessly inventive and emotionally gripping, Snowpiercer is truly the little sci-fi engine that could. – J.R. Kinnard

5. Only Lovers Left Alive【唯爱永生】
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What have we done to deserve Tilda Swinton? This ethereal goddess blesses us with her presence on our screens time and time again, always taking chances and going all in (Snowpiercer) and deliciously over-committing to small parts (The Grand Budapest Hotel). In Jim Jarmusch’s latest film, about vampires who show us that everyone becomes a hipster eventually, Swinton and Tom Hiddleston are perfectly paired as they roam a ruined Detroit and talk about art and music. It’s a post-Gothic, recession-era atmosphere that you involuntarily lose yourself in, partly because it is a only-slightly pulpier typical Jarmusch movie. His script is a beautiful document, giving Swinton and Hiddleston a lot to work with in what doesn’t amount to much more than a hangout movie. Though the darkness can seem overwhelming, it’s also frequently hilarious, with references to chilling out with long-dead celebrities and offhand comments on the amusing folly of man. No one looks cooler than Tilda Swinton playing a centuries-old vampire, and there’s no one better to spend two hours hanging out with. – Jake Pitre

4. Gone Girl【消失的爱人】
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Lately, it’s hard for a film to completely capture someone’s attention. Even if one isn’t blatantly pulling their phone out to check Twitter, or the time, it’s hard for the very weight of time to be completely lifted from you as one watches a movie these days. Not so for David Fincher’s “trashterpiece”, as David Ehrlich called it. It’s a nasty piece of work, but it’s one of the slickest things you’ll see all year. Like few other films this year, it sucks you in and doesn’t let go. While you’re stuck in Fincher and writer Gillian Flynn’s nightmare, you will inevitably be stuck, mouth agape, transfixed by the pulpy goings on. From examining the role of media in contemporary crime to a treatise on the inherent fraudulence of relationship, Gone Girl throws everything at the wall, and, impossibly, it all sticks. Not one second passes by when you’re not totally invested in the thriller, a multi-layered examination of money, marriage, and narrative. Regardless of its gender politics, Gone Girl is undoubtedly one of the most thrilling films in ages and certainly Fincher’s masterpiece. – Kyle Turner

3. Grand Budapest Hotel【布达佩斯大饭店】
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Wes Anderson’s films have long reveled in nostalgia, but none have been tempered with as much loss as The Grand Budapest Hotel. Shot in multiple aspect ratios and briefly crossing several generations, the story of The Grand Budapest Hotel as run by its fastidious caretaker M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) is a forlorn tale of fading glory. War is creeping in on the fictional land of Zubrowska, and even as the most hopeful like M. Gustave try to educate the next generation with wisdom on the goodness of mankind, even he can’t help but concede, “Oh fuck it.”
And yet in aiming to find the former glory of the past, Anderson has made a film as rich and funny as any in his career. The hilarious sight gags of expertly crafted pastries, miniature digging tools or cartoonishly elaborate ski slaloms feel like part of Zubrowska’s intricate fabric and world building, not just the playful eccentricities of a director. But Fiennes’s eloquent taskmaster of a character, obsessed with even the tiniest detail, seems to channel Anderson’s inner genius. Fiennes joins Anderson’s cast of regulars and finds himself right at home, giving this completely zany caper a soul that’s missing from even some of Anderson’s best. – Brian Welk

2. Boyhood【少年时代】
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“You know how everyone’s always saying ‘seize the moment’? I don’t know, I’m kind of thinking it’s the other way around… like the moment seizes us.”The above line in the final scene of Boyhood acts as a mission statement of sorts for Richard Linklater’s intimate epic. Unlike a traditional coming-of-age film that would hone in on a single event or a sequence of milestones that changes or crafts a person, Linklater’s 12 year spanning work of (fairly) major and (deceptively) minor occurrences allows us to see the moments make a person. Or, rather, the moments become part of the man we see age from 6 to 18 over the course of 165 minutes. It may actually be misleading to even classify Boyhood as a coming-of-age film, as, outside of witnessing the physical development of its leads, it is not actually about transformation. It is instead a portrait of the nature of human maturation and memory, depicting the idea of sum of experiences in a most unique fashion through its now famous production process. Life is a process of accumulation, and we all bear the marks of every experience that shapes us, every moment acting as a pathway to either new possibilities or new reflections. In beautifully realising this aspect of humanity through a single fiction feature, Linklater creates what, through accumulation, is one of the most emotionally overwhelming American works of recent… well… memory. – Josh Slater Williams

1. Under the Skin【皮囊之下】
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Scarlett Johansson’s eyes scanning the streets of Glasgow, crowned with jet-black hair. Hapless yet serene men sinking step by step into a viscous black nothingness. An infant shrieking alone on a beach, fierce waves crashing too closely for comfort. Slurry red gore pouring into an incandescent opening to…where, exactly? A man with facial neurofibromatosis wandering naked in the countryside. A wisp of black smoke dissipating between snowflakes. If it can garner no other praise, Jonathan Glazer’s first film in a decade can at least claim some of the only truly iconic images to etch themselves onto the retinae of moviegoers in quite some time. With some filmmakers fleeing to television in search of new modes of storytelling, it has been left up to true visionaries to push the boundaries of the medium and fight to keep it relevant. Under the Skin is a testament to the art of careful subtraction. Glazer pared down the film’s source material, Michael Faber’s novel of the same name, to a small collection of characters, visual motifs, and key incidents, using his decades-honed eye for conjuring imagery that packs a subconscious wallop to do the heavy lifting. Thanks to Glazer’s minimalist approach, Under the Skin gainst an immense allegorical power that no other film this year could match, touching on identity politics, eroticism, the [assignation of your choice] gaze, and especially the power and the dangers of empathy. Through it all, Johansson’s disquieting performance acts as a constant magic trick, a sort of reverse uncanny valley. Whether or not Glazer takes another decade to follow it up, Under the Skin will stand as one of the totemic features of both arthouse and genre filmmaking for a very long time to come. – Simon Howell