Read Watch Listen 2019
I usually look forward to writing this annual post, but this year I felt particularly intimidated to make my top picks. Art is subjective and all that, but I have so much respect for the many whip-smart people with much greater capacity for critical analysis than me. I’ve never felt confident enough to declare something The Best. To complete my list, I had to bring it back to the heart–my heart. Of all the stunning sounds and stories I encountered this year, which ones touched me most? What am I still thinking about weeks or months later? That’s what I want to remember from 2019.
Without further ado, here are the best my favorite books, movies and albums of the year.
Read
An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green
John Green has long since carved himself a respected space in the YA genre but his (vlog)brother, Hank, was until now unproven as a writer in his own right. No need to worry. His gripping alien arrival story set in the digital era shook me right out of my body. Beyond the goosebump-inducing mystery he crafted, his story scared me on a personal level as someone who has always wanted her voice to have public significance. Only a YouTuber could write such an effective cautionary tale on how going viral can impact you psychologically.
Permanent Record by Mary H.K. Choi
I had so much fun reading Emergency Contact last year that I pre-ordered Mary H.K. Choi’s second book immediately after the announcement. She more than delivered with another electrifying romance that had me laughing out loud by page four! Over time, the story revealed itself as a wise message about how self-compassion can begin undoing the paralyzing work of shame. I copied the words from her final chapters into my journal because I knew I'd need them.
Invasive Species by Marwa Helal
When I heard Marwa Helal’s story of growing up in the States only to be needlessly stranded back in Egypt for two years due to her citizenships status, I knew I had to buy her book of poetry. She begins on her own terms, with a poem read right to left in an uncompromising form of her own invention. What follows is a bold indictment of the inherent cruelty of immigration law to Third Culture Kids and every person whose identity spans borders.
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
People have been mentioning this novel so often I assumed it came out last year, but in reality it was published back in 2014. I’m so glad I finally committed to reading it because now I understand why people are still talking about it six years later. I never expected a post-apocalyptic story to be so hopeful. This book made me nostalgic about the complex civilization we live in today and helped me believe that even if it all goes to shit, it's possible for us to rebuild something worthwhile again.
Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds
It took me almost the entire year to wade my way through this book–not because it was long or difficult to read, but because it brought up so many complicated emotions in me. I broke down crying in more than one chapter because the intricacies of my experience were finally being put into words. It gave me a vocabulary for why I am the way I am and validated so much of what I suspected about the way I was raised. More than anything, it reminded me I’m not alone in my struggles and that there’s a path forward for every TCK who is struggling. Including me.
Also Recommended
Keep Going by Austin Kleon: I’m a devoted disciple of Kleon’s wholesome philosophy of life and creativity–so unlike the toxic myths we're fed about the “tortured” or “starving” artist. The timing of his latest book felt perfect. “Keep going” is exactly what I needed to hear in 2019 (and beyond).
On the Come Up by Angie Thomas: The story of a teen rapper, written by a former teen rapper. At this point, I'll read anything Angie Thomas writes (and watch the movies, too!) I laughed out loud and was introduced to a world I knew little about. I’m not kidding when I say she’s doing the Lord's work by sharing these stories set in black communities with such nuance, honesty and joy. That’s the power of #OwnVoices and I’m grateful.
Early Riser by Jasper Fforde: Another absurd tale from one of my favorite writers, this time set in a world where humans have always hibernated (emphasis on "always") and drawing inspiration from people who oddly prefer the night shift. *Stefon voice* This story has everything: viral dreams, split consciousness, Wintervolk neatly folding the clothes of its victims, Big Pharma and bad coffee.
Tillie Walden: This year I read three of the 23-year-old (!) Austinite’s graphic novels. Each one is poignant and beautiful, whether it be about young queer love in space (On a Sunbeam), nighttime road trips through a surreal vision of West Texas (Are You Listening?), or the unsettling quiet of skating rinks before the light of dawn (Spinning).
Octavia Butler: I finally picked up my first Octavia Butler stories this year, with Kindred and her short story collection, Bloodchild. For the longest time, she was the only black woman writing sci-fi. To this day, she’s the best in the game. I’m so glad she persevered, because I was starting to believe this genre wasn’t meant for me.
Binti (series) by Nnedi Okorafor: This series of sci-fi novellas from a Nigerian-America author has been on my list for ages! No clue why I waited this long because it’s exactly the kind of sci-fi I’ve been craving. A mathematically-gifted Himba woman, the first of her tribe to leave Earth for an intergalactic university, solving conflict with reason and cross-cultural communication? Sign me up.
In Pieces by Sally Field: The bravest creative work is that which must be done before moving forward as a whole and healing person. As soon as I saw this interview clip with Sally Field about her forthcoming memoir, I knew I had to read it. This isn't some ghostwritten promo piece. She learned a new craft and blew the dust off her story so she wouldn't be “65 for the rest of [her] life until [she] was dwindling and gone.” With In Pieces, she has admirably completed her task.
Watch
The Farewell
I will forever be grateful to Lulu Wang for doing the difficult internal work only the most honest artists do. I’m still too scared to write the memoir that’s been fighting its way out these past few years, but unlike me and in an astonishing act of courage, Lulu has charged fully into the fire of her most painful life experiences and emerged with a treasure that benefits all of us. Her artistic instinct is powerful in its unexpectedness, from the choice to play a soul cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Come Healing” over footage of Beijing to her casting of rapper Awkwafina as her uneasy protagonist. The fact she did all this without compromising on her dual culture and languages is a gift The Academy is too blind to recognize. No matter. The world has already changed, even if they refuse to see it.
Parasite
Parasite is a film so smart I’m scared to attempt much meaningful commentary. What starts out as a darkly comedic heist unexpectedly descends into a gut-dropping twist so shocking I haven’t quite recovered. Only Bong Joon-Ho could deliver such an original storyline while sending a pointed and compassionate message to the beneficiaries and victims of unchecked capitalism. This film deserves to be studied, so excuse me while I get back to it.
Little Women
Greta Gerwig has unveiled her worthy submission to the rich canon of Little Women adaptations. I have seen it twice, sobbed both times, and already look forward to buying it on Blu-ray for a lifetime of comforting rewatches. Her non-linear approach injects new life into the familiar story, drawing parallels that pack an emotional punch we might have dodged otherwise. Gerwig’s celebrated interpretation of the youngest sister, Amy, displays the deep character insight derived from her devotion to the classic novel since childhood. The work she did to put her fingerprint on this film while honoring the timeless themes of the original story is a remarkable feat.
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
This film was so mesmerizing, it reminded me what it really means when we call something “cinematic.” It felt classic and surprising all at once, transporting us to a dreamlike vision of an already dreamy city. The Last Black Man in San Francisco is, of course, about gentrification–but it’s also about nostalgia and friendship and how deeply we can be lost in the stories we tell ourselves to give our lives meaning. What happens when we realize the lie? Reality crashes in and we have to find the courage to pick up the pieces. (Also, this is an extremely specific note but I feel like this movie perfectly describes what it’s like to move through the world as an enneagram four.)
Jojo Rabbit
None of us knew how to respond when Taika Waititi announced his next film would be set in Nazi Germany, starring himself as Hitler. Luckily, trusting Taika with his “anti-hate satire” turned out to be an excellent decision. Constructing a story about a radicalized child with Hitler as his imaginary friend is brilliant on multiple levels, first by asserting white supremacy is a childish belief people hold to feel significant, then proving even children can recognize racism is wrong. In fact, part of growing up is letting go of our immature beliefs–just like kids grow out of imaginary friends. Taika’s decision to explore this heavy topic through the eyes of a child is brilliant because it’s the ultimate reminder that none of this is as complicated as we make it out to be.
A Hidden Life
Terrence Malick had WWII on his mind as well, entering the era through the true story of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who was executed for being a conscientious objector. The film opens on his idyllic farmstead nestled among dizzying mountains, sweet hardworking families and sweeping green fields. Then the murmurs of war begin; he watches as nationalism begins to poison his village. His resistance is quiet, still. An immovable object. He wrestles–with his wife, with himself, with God. He’s taken away and suffers in prison. When his execution is ordered, his wife rushes to his side again and though it costs her everything, she releases him to do what he knows is right. As the credits rolled, I sat there in tears–challenged, and wanting a love like that.
Paddleton
In typical fashion, Mark Duplass absolutely demolished me with his story about the sweetness of friendship–even unto death. A true master of human emotion, Mark expertly handled the stark reality of mortality with his signature balance of tenderness and humor. This movie is not for the faint of heart–the ending will properly wring you out–but it leaves you with the raw clarity only found by reckoning with the one fate we all have in common.
Also Recommended
Hustlers: Only a woman–Lorene Scafaria, to be precise–could direct a film about strippers that feels so wholesome. From the moment JLo’s character invited her young mentee to warm up in her fabulous fur coat, I felt safe.
Luce: This nervy psychological thriller had me guessing the entire movie, leaving me with my heart heavy and head spinning on the topic of tokenism and the soul-destroying anxiety burdening those subjected to its impossible standards.
Ad Astra: I didn’t really need to see another white man in space but Ad Astra pleasantly surprised me with its emotionally aware protagonist who embarks on a necessary journey of self-healing and parental compassion. It’s clear this script came from a personal place. Plus, it gives us a fascinating near-future vision of humanity’s expansion into space… and a freaking car chase on the moon.
Fast Color: This sensitive sci-fi film sadly flew under the radar this year. It’s a thoughtfully crafted story about fraught family relationships and the lessons different generations can learn from each other–and yes, secret superpowers.
Honey Boy: The fact Shia LaBeouf sent pages of his script directly from rehab proves he and Alma Har’el created this film with a great deal of vulnerability. I admire that, but part of me wishes they had given it more time. It feels incomplete somehow, like a wound so fresh it still needs cleaning.
Late Night: A lot of people thought this movie wasn’t funny; I think it wasn’t made for them. As a woman navigating the working world, I will never underestimate Mindy Kaling again. I laughed hard in this movie and so appreciated this story of women leaning into the work of transformation.
Always Be My Maybe: Two scenes have stuck with me: 1) The moment at the Korean spa with his dad when Marcus realizes that it is, and always has been, her. 2) The wind blowing through Sasha’s dress as she looks up at Marcus on the balcony and they find themselves at a crossroads–can they make room for each other in their lives again?
Blinded by the Light: I love an earnest film! I grinned my way through this wholesome love letter to every fanboy/girl/person out there. It’s also a refreshing reminder that art belongs to everyone.
John Wick 3: Y’all, I think this was the most fun I had in theaters this year. I just… I love this franchise, and of course, our lord and savior Keanu. Don’t @ me.
Television
The OA (Part II): Ever since Sound Of My Voice, filmmaking partners Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij have been the definitive voices of what my brother and I look for in storytelling. When The OA dropped on Netflix without warning one Christmas, we binged it together in a matter of days. Part II returned this year with an even wilder storyline that siphoned us right out of our bodies. This show is weird and supernatural and raw and unexpected, carried on a current of emotional and spiritual openness. It’s courageous in its imagination of a more sensitive way to move through this world. It’s certainly not for everyone, but it’s exactly our shit. (I low-key switched my summer plans to a different city just so I could see the house centered in the second season.) Then just like that, The OA was canceled. I will never forgive Netflix for robbing us of the full five seasons Brit and Zal had planned from the beginning. But even now, months later, fans are campaigning and holding out hope for its return. #TheOAisReal
Schitt’s Creek: I kept seeing this show pop up on Netflix but never had an interest in it until Thirst Aid Kit released its episode on Dan Levy. Then boy did my life change. Schitt’s Creek is my first true comfort show, the one I reach for when I’m feeling anxious or discouraged. I’m well into my second (third?) rewatch and all my gifs are David Rose. Dan Levy’s writing and comedic instinct are first class, from the all-star cast he assembled to the patient development of his characters so their growth feels truly earned. Most touching of all is his choice to depict a world absent of homophobia. This show contains one of the most tender love stories on television, and their queer love is celebrated as all love should be, without calling attention to itself as some big statement. I owe this show so much for what it’s taught me, how it’s touched me and the joy it’s brought to the world. I would say I’ll miss Schitt’s Creek after its final season this year, but I know I’ll still have it on repeat.
Casual: I finally caught up on this show in support of rom-com writer Tess Morris (Man Up), and the brilliance of it snuck up on me. It’s a feat for a show to depict messed up characters with such compassion. I became so attached to each of them, cringing through the darkness they endured and seeing them make it to the other side. The final episodes wrecked me as I thought about how far they’d come, that they were finally through the dark night of their souls, that maybe they would be okay. It’s so hard to reimagine yourself and set aside old patterns. Change is terrifying, and I felt their twin fear and hopefulness as they embraced a new season–without us.
Patriot Act: I owe so much of my education this year to Hasan Minhaj’s useful breakdowns of the pressing issues of our current era. His final episode of 2019 ended the year on a compassionate note for our overloaded minds and hearts, reminding us it’s impossible to passionate about everything all at once. I felt so seen and cared for in that moment.
More favorites: Bojack Horseman (I’m not ready for it to end), Tuca & Bertie (tragically canceled by Netflix after one perfect season), What We Do In The Shadows (a worthy TV adaptation of the mockumentary, with hilarious cameos and a fresh storyline), Carole & Tuesday (a gorgeous anime series from Bones about a pair of up-and-coming musicians on Mars), Atypical (fantastic writing–the emotional stakes are so high in this show), On My Block (I’m so attached to these kids), The Good Place (I watch this mostly for Manny tbh), Fresh Off The Boat (so excited for all that’s in store for this cast and crew!), Crazy Ex Girlfriend (RIP perfect show), Fleabag (a brilliant exploration of complex emotions and smart use of its unique format), Making It (wholesome content)
Listen
Zeal by Kings Kaleidoscope
“You and I will change / But the blood is still the same”
The past few years, Kings Kaleidoscope has eerily released albums on a timeline that perfectly reflects my current spiritual state. The Beauty Between in 2017 met me in the thick of a painful deconstruction, comforting me that many other Christians were also hurting and taking a hard look at the troubling aspects of western Christianity. With Zeal comes the relief that we still have a faith worth holding onto even after questioning everything and making a complete overhaul. It symbolizes the return to childlike faith in an ultimately good God.
Legacy! Legacy! by Jamila Woods
“Who gonna share my love for me with me?”
Jamila Woods wrote the book on self-love. Her songs have been a comforting and empowering companion in my life this year. The title of each song on her new concept album bears the name of a legend who has come before her. We have so much to learn from them, and from her: how to fully embrace ourselves, reimagine womanhood and show up with everything we have. It’s fitting that one of the assignments from the poetry workshop I took earlier this year was to study one of her carefully crafted songs. Her legacy is already apparent.
The Big Day by Chance the Rapper
“Do you remember how when you were younger / The summers all lasted forever?”
No one does nostalgia of the present like Chance the Rapper. He calls attention to the moment we’re in and encourages us to approach our lives with intentionality and wisdom. All of Chance’s music is filled with infectious joy, and even more so in The Big Day as he celebrates his new marriage. So many of these songs went straight to my one-day wedding playlist. This album also had me thinking about the honeymoon phase of faith, when God’s grace feels overwhelming and we can’t help but sing. It’s a temporary season but so good to return to–the big day where it all began.
Jimmy Lee by Raphael Saadiq
“My mind says, ‘You should give it up today’ / Sounds awesome, right? But not tonight”
I stumbled across someone on Twitter who said Raphael Saadiq’s latest album is one to stand the test of time. That comment stuck with me and before long my life was permeated with his music. Jimmy Lee is built to last, crafted patiently with perseverance in mind and a compassionate view of the span of our lives. Raphael Saadiq’s songs settle comfortably into the steady passage of time, reminding us of God’s abounding grace despite all our suffering and failings. He ushers us into the peace of knowing God’s work in us is a merciful process completed over the course of a lifetime.
Domino by JGivens
“It might not be long, so why hide your life? / It can mean something”
JGivens occupies a terribly tricky space as a gay black rapper with ties to the Christian hip hop scene. When he confirmed the rumors about his sexuality a few years ago, he was met with the hostility we’ve sadly come to expect from the church. When he dropped his new album, I studied it looking for answers, comfort, anything to help me navigate the complexities of a reality that may never be settled in a Christian culture so bent on policing each other. As I walk into 2020, his words from “IDK” have given me the courage to embrace the tensions of faith, society and personal identity. Life is too short not to show up as our full, messy, beautiful, God-given selves.
Modern Trash by Abhi the Nomad
“They ask me where I'm from / I say, ‘oh I don't really know’”
When I saw a TCK rapper on a list of Austin artists to watch, he immediately had my attention. Twelve months and an entire discography later, it’s obvious Abhi the Nomad has been my yearlong obsession. Although I hope he evolves past his crasser content, I can’t deny the entertainment value of each new track he releases. His album Marbled proves his range and “Letter for God” explores his interrogation of religion, an instinct I relate to as someone who has also been exposed to many different faiths. (Who are we to say we’re the only ones who have it right?) In Modern Trash, he expresses his anxieties about climate change and anger towards people who use God as an excuse for inaction (First Reformed vibes). More than anything, though, it’s refreshing to see a fellow TCK working hard and sharing his unique experiences through his chosen art form.
Other Albums of Note
Maggie Rogers released her first album, the heart-forward Heard It In A Past Life. Solange drew us into her world again with When I Get Home. The extremely prolific Logic dropped two albums of different genres, including his track “Keanu Reeves” which I rapped along badly to for the better half of the year. Cautious Clay’s Table of Context, Daniel Caesar’s CASE STUDY 01 and Angel’s Pulse by Blood Orange supplied the vibes at work and on the road. Nineteen-year-old Jamaican rapper Koffee took the world by storm and made Obama’s list. I thoroughly enjoyed Anderson .Paak’s Ventura, especially his excellent love song, “Make It Better,” and André 3000’s endearing feature on “Come Home.” Lizzo’s “Like A Girl” gave me courage as I made the move to my first one-bedroom apartment. Raveena mesmerized me with her dreamy vocals in Lucid. Longtime favorites Of Monsters and Men and Vampire Weekend released new albums and it was grand. Steve Lacy debuted Apollo XXI on the heels of his Vampire Weekend collaboration, and I was so happy for him. Claud and Grace Ives set the mood with their cozy vocals and infectious bedroom pop beats. The love songs on MIKA’s new album were so satisfying it made my heart swell thinking, “Has he finally found true love?” And, of course, Sleeping at Last rounded out his enneagram series, concluding Atlas: Year Two. Thank you, 2019.