1) Selma

The best movie of 2014 both defines the year and has been defined by it. Selma, Ava DuVernay’s searing and stirring look at the 1965 Selma and Montgomery marches, arrives on the heels of protests across America in response to the deaths of Michael Brown in Ferguson and Eric Garner in Staten Island.

No one who sees the movie will or should be able to separate its passionate portrayal of the Civil Rights Movement from the racially-charged events of recent months, and the filmmakers behind Selma don’t want you to. “That’s why Rosa sat on the bus; that’s why we walk through Ferguson with our hands up,” Common sings on “Glory,” the end credits track. One can only imagine that “I Can’t Breathe” would have been incorporated too, had that protest chant materialized a few weeks earlier. DuVernay and company crafted Selma as a tribute to the courage and perseverance of those who marched for racial equality almost fifty years ago, to be sure, but they also intended the film to broadcast a more timeless message of optimism that would rouse viewers to action regardless of generation.

It’s easy to draw parallels to modern day even when Selma doesn’t spell things out directly. The film pulsates with righteous fury at the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson (Keith Stanfield), a 26-year-old African-American male gunned down by an Alabama state trooper. That scene should send chills down the spines of anyone who followed the Brown and Trayvon Martin cases. Other scenes of protesters being beaten by police cut much deeper now that footage of violence in Ferguson and elsewhere has made its way to our living rooms. But Selma doesn’t mug for relevancy – it simply allows the blatant similarities between then and now to shine through.

Cultural resonance aside, Selma is perhaps a perfect movie in terms of its execution. DuVernay and ace cinematographer Bradford Young stage every scene like they’re artists in front of a grand tableau, making excellent use of shadow and the cast’s dark skin tones to create some shots that border on museum-worthy. The director, a relative unknown, handles her duties with the talent and energy of a seasoned pro; DuVernay’s outstanding work allows you to at once feel the immense scope of the protests and the intimate emotions of those who were a part of them.

In front of the camera, Selma soars on the majestic performance of David Oyelowo as Martin Luther King, Jr.. Stripping bare an American icon, Oyelowo gives us King at his most achingly human, on the cusp of a decision that has the potential to either make or break the Civil Rights Movement – and agonizingly unsure of what his next move should be. Selma and Oyelowo swiftly dispense with the hat-tipping. King was a great leader, not a perfect one, and he had flaws like the rest of us. With tremendous dignity and grace, the actor lets us into King’s head.

His MLK towers, but others like Carmen Ejogo, Cuba Gooding Jr., Wendell Pierce and Lorraine Toussaint also dazzle. This is a film bursting with amazing performances. It’s also a simply amazing film: vibrantly alive at every turn, alternately humorous and heartbreaking (but always human), flushed with the blood, sweat and tears of the period. Selma sends you out of the theater alive, alert and with eyes open wider than before. For this country, at this moment, something like Selma was necessary. Nothing else this year has captured the cultural zeitgeist so fully. It’s safe to say that Selma is not only the best movie of 2014 but also the cinematic event of the year. Let’s just hope that there will soon come a time when America doesn’t need a film like it.