Back in 2017 I comprised a list of some of my favourite moments of that year’s television: the scenes that made me laugh, cry, shriek, or just appreciate the fine art of storytelling.
I couldn’t do the same in 2018, simply because I didn’t watch as many shows, at least not ones that aired that particular year. But I really enjoyed crafting my “best of 2017” post, and always wanted to do another.
So I’ve made myself a fresh list of great on-screen moments, though I had to broaden my horizons to include both films and material that aired before 2018. I’ve put moments that featured specifically in 2018 at the top of the list, though otherwise there’s no order or ranking here.
Kanan Saves the Crew of the Ghost on Star Wars: Rebels
We all knew it was coming, but the question remained as to how it would go down. And perhaps the fact the audience knew Kanan Jarrus was on borrowed time (in order to maintain the continuity that Obi-Wan was the last remaining Jedi at the time of Luke’s training) is what lead to the writers’ realization that he would have to get one heck of a death scene to make up for its inevitability.
They delivered. Kanan’s final episode involves him subtly putting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to his surrogate family, and saving the life of the woman he loves. After he and Hera use makeshift hang-gliders to escape the Empire’s forces, Kanan finally hears her long-awaited declaration of love for him.
Then moments after their escape vessel appears, a massive explosion threatens to kill them all – only for Kanan to leap forward and hold it at bay with the Force while simultaneously levitating Hera to safety. It’s an incredible display of power, even by Jedi standards, but what really gets the tear-ducts prickling is that in his final moments his eyesight is restored, allowing him to see Hera’s face one last time.
It’s beautifully done, harking back to his words earlier in the season: “I wish I could see your face,” and even earlier in the show’s run: “We’ll see each other again, I promise.” Was it the power of the Force who granted him this last request? The show doesn’t make it explicit, which was a wise decision – miracles don’t need explanations.
The entire sequence of events is laid out in this fan video, and yes, I know Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah has been covered within an inch of its life, featured on everything from Sense8 to Shrek to Saturday Night Live, but give it one more try. The freaking bagpipes are a bit much, but I promise it’s worth it for the choice of image when the lyrics: “and even when it all went wrong…” play. At the time I saw this fan-vid I hadn’t watched a single second of the actual show – and I still bawled.
My controversial Star Wars opinion (we’ve all got one) is that Kanan and Hera had the greatest love story of the entire franchise, a relationship spanning ten years that was built on trust, friendship and respect. As heartrending as its conclusion was, it also felt right: for the characters, for the story, and for the relationship itself. As is said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
The Robot Saves Judy on Lost in Space
I have only vague memories of watching reruns of the original Lost in Space, so I can confidently say I had no strong feelings at news of a remake. Despite this, I found myself really enjoying the show: the Robinson family dynamics, the use of science (as opposed to violence) to solve problems, and the occasional ethical quandary that sprung up.
The first of these moral obstacles is when John Robinson is forced to chose between two of his children: daughter Judy who’s caught under the surface of a frozen lake, and son Will who has tumbled down a crevasse but is otherwise relatively safe. John hurries back to Judy, allowing the meeting between Will and the robot (reimagined here as alien technology) to take place: surely the most iconic and memorable relationship of the franchise.
And of course, as the rest of the family frantically try to free Judy, realizing they’re only able to hold her hand as she runs out of air, the robot appears.
It’s a beautiful sequence, from the family’s anguish to Judy’s despair, the softly falling snow and those inevitable three words: “Danger Will Robinson.” Perhaps it was the build-up, with the awestruck reactions of Will and the robot towards one another, or maybe the growing desperation of the family as they try to save Judy. Or perhaps that famous catchphrase had more of an impact on my childhood than I thought.
Whatever the case, there were definitely some tears shed when the robot melts the ice around Judy and lifts her free, then uses its self-generating warmth to prevent the family from freezing to death. In the saving of Judy’s life, all their lives are changed forever.
Sophie Makes the Right Choice on Versailles
I’ve already spoken about this scene in my meta about women who escape getting stuffed in the fridge, but I enjoyed it so much (and am still pretty astonished by its existence) that I’m including it here as well.
Sophie de Clermont was a character who was inevitably going to be dispatched in a particularly gruesome way. Under duress she had poisoned the Queen of France, and in her desperation to escape unscathed she sleeps with the Chief of Police. A murderer and a slut? I could see the narrative steadily working towards its justification of her demise.
And yet when she flees Versailles, she takes the spoiled Princess Eleanor of Germany with her, fearing that her life is also in peril. As they stand on the crossroads, quarrelling as they’ve done from the moment they met, Sophie insists she has to go back to Versailles and avenge her mother’s life (long story).
But when Eleanor beseeches her to put aside vengeance and run away with her, something extraordinary happens. Sophie does so. The two girls are last seen walking off together, into their joint futures, free as birds. An entire subplot involving Sophie returning to court, trying to wreak her revenge, and dying horribly as a result, just disappears.
Yes, the show gave up the chance to punish Sophie, and instead let her make the right choice: the choice to live. I wish it wasn’t so extraordinary, but it is.
Enfys Nest Unmasks in Solo
By the time I got around to seeing Solo, last year’s big (and yet somehow forgettable) Star Wars movie, I already knew that Han shot first, that Thandie Newton died pointlessly, and that Darth Maul turned up. That’s the internet for you.
But one plot point managed to escape my radar, making it one of the most rewarding parts of the entire film. The character of Enrys Nest first appears as a piratical figure, pitted against Han and his crew as they fight over a score of valuable hyperspace fuel. The character seemed little more than a thief, a simple secondary antagonist to complicate Han’s life further.
Then the first twist comes: Enfys and her Cloud-Riders aren’t pirates at all, but a fledging branch of the Rebellion that fights to protect people from crime syndicates such as Crimson Dawn. Then the second: Enfys removes her mask to reveal a young woman, barely a teenager. This is the face of the Rebellion in its earliest stages:
It’s enough to get me a little choked up (I know I’m doing that a lot, but hey – if I didn’t have emotional reactions to things then this list wouldn’t exist!) and I can’t help but feel that on some level it’s a meta-comment directed at the ongoing internet-rage over women and people of colour existing in the Star Wars universe.
Between Enfys Nest and Jyn Erso (and Princess Leia of course), a clear and consistent message is sent, one that’s aptly summed up in the title of the Hugo-winning essay: We Have Always Fought.
Okoye Speaks Truth to Power in Black Panther
It’s hard to really articulate why this is such an incredible moment. In most films – heck, in most stories, it’s unthinkable that a woman would choose anything over her husband, boyfriend and/or love interest. To not be on your man’s side one hundred percent of the time, to not support and condone him in anything he says or does, almost always makes a woman a terrible person. (And even if the narrative supports her, you can bet a million bucks that fandom won’t).
And yet here is Okoye, looking her husband in the eye and telling him without the slightest trace of hesitation or guilt that she would choose her country over him. This time and every time. It’s incredible: her love for Wakanda is more important than her love for W’Kabi.
It’s summed up beautifully here:
The core of the Paladin is ‘there is something greater than I, and I will sacrifice everything for it’, and it was beautiful to not only see that happen on screen but see her proved right, see her win, in one case by not even raising her weapon. She stood firm in her faith and the narrative said yes, it said this is just, it said your very faith will protect you from harm. And she’s not seen as hard or cold edged weapon for that. The imagery around her in that moment is more like a saint or an angel, glowing and reaching out a peaceful hand to a symbol of one of the tribes of her country. Her country loves her back.
Korra and Asami’s First Kiss in The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars
It’s been four years since Korra and Asami stepped hand-in-hand into the spirit world, though it wasn’t until a few months ago I was able to read all three graphic novels that chronicle their further adventures together. The pages that depict their holiday in the spirit world are like a dream: they relax, they go rock climbing, they go swimming and exploring and picnicking – I must have had the stupidest grin of my face when I turned these pages.
And then, once they decide to go back, this happens:
Admittedly I would have been happy with an even slower burn than the one we got, perhaps with the girls darting around their feelings for a few issues before sealing the deal, but who am I to complain? As my post on the subject will attest, I’m a huge Korrasami shipper, and this was unequivocal proof that they were a couple.
It gets even better, as when Kya casually mentions she’s gay, reveals that Avatar Kyoshi was bisexual, and comments that: “the Air Nomads were accepting of differences and embraced everyone, no matter their orientation” (which comes complete with a panel featuring two male air-benders sitting in close proximity).
My shipper heart was delighted, and it’s pretty obvious by now that their relationship was a turning point in how same-sex couples would henceforth be depicted in children’s television. The world only moves forward, and thanks to these two, there’s no going back.
Elizabeth Gives a Tongue-Lashing on The Crown
Vergangenheit is my favourite episode of The Crown, and one that I’ve rewatched several times just for the satisfaction of it. Throughout season one, the portrayal of Prince Edward was a relatively sympathetic one. Even in the midst of his petulance (such as his childish nicknames for the rest of the Windsors), you got a sense of his pain at having to choose between Wallis and his family, country, birthright, and sense of duty.
This changes in season two, though it begins with his fairly reasonable wish to serve England in some official capacity. A life with no purpose is a dreary, empty one, and there are few who wouldn’t cringe at the sight of a grown man throwing a lavish birthday party for a pug. And Elizabeth seems receptive to his request – despite everything, she’s never disliked her uncle, and in fact shares a certain kinship with him given both have felt the burden of rule.
But then the devastating truth comes out, initially refuted by Edward, only to be backed up with irrefutable evidence (the episode even ends with a montage of photographs showing Edward and Wallis rubbing shoulders with Hitler himself, just in case you thought the show was exaggerating). During World War II, Edward collaborated with the Nazis on several occasions, culminating in the royal family covering up all his secret dealings and shipping him off to the Bahamas to keep him out of the way.
So Elizabeth gives him the long-awaited beatdown, telling her uncle in no uncertain terms that he’s not welcome in her country, her government or her life.
It was a gloriously cathartic moment – not only for Elizabeth back in the day, but for those of us dealing with the re-emergence of Nazis in the here and now. The episode dutifully examines both sides, gives everyone a chance to defend themselves, and has Elizabeth soul-search the boundaries of her faith… but ultimately, there is a right and wrong in this world, and we are under no moral obligation to forgive Nazis. When it’s in our power, it’s not only our right, but also our duty to send them packing.
The Penny Drops on Big Little Lies
This entry comes with a bit of a backstory. I first became aware of Big Little Lies when a gif-set crossed my Tumblr dashboard: three women played by Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon and Shailene Woodley were reacting to something.
And it was quite a reaction. I reblogged the images with a tag that went something like: “I don’t know what these three are reacting to, but it looks pretty damn intense.”
It’s hard not to look at their faces and not have your curiosity piqued, so when I started watching Big Little Lies, it was with full knowledge this moment was coming. I was looking forward to getting context on why they looked so shocked – though I was lucky enough to become so engrossed in the actual story that the foreknowledge of the gif-set faded a little.
Which meant that when the big moment did arrive, I was caught partially unawares. I recognized the scene when it happened, but had forgotten it was coming – and both those things together made it one of the most satisfying moments of television I’ve ever experienced. Without giving away the revelation (because anyone who hasn’t seen it deserves to watch unspoiled), you can see the complex voiceless communication that’s going on between the three of them.
It’s easy to dismiss acting as pretentious or easy, but in moments like this you remember that it really is an art-form. The entire scene is wordless, yet everything that needs to be said is in their glances, for what’s depicted is not only the instinctual understanding all women share when a predator enters their midst, but the solidarity that immediately bursts forth as a result.
I could honestly watch this scene for hours, and every time I see it a tingle goes down my spine.
Rapunzel’s Tower is Destroyed on Tangled: The Series
Disney’s Tangled was a little flawed in some respects, but I give credit for its attempt to realistically depict the psychological effects of child abuse. The film’s most striking scene is Rapunzel’s rapid mood swings when she finally leaves the tower against her mother’s wishes, going from elation to crippling guilt and back again in a matter of seconds.
But one of the aforementioned flaws in the film is that it doesn’t really build on this scene, and by the end we’re meant to assume that Rapunzel lives happily ever after with her parents she’s never met, in a kingdom she’s expected to rule, with a guy who robbed people for a living until about five minutes ago.
If there was one thing a television show based on these characters could do, it was give Rapunzel the time and space she needed to adapt to this abrupt change in circumstances, and explore just what it would be like for a girl raised in a tower to acclimatize to a busy social life.
Granted, the whole thing veers heavily on the side of optimism, but there’s one particularly striking scene in which Rapunzel and her friends return to the tower in which she was held captive for eighteen years, only for a series of escalating events to result in its collapse.
And what is Rapunzel’s reaction when she watches it crumble?
This was a place where Rapunzel was exploited for her hair, denied her freedom and family, and emotionally manipulated every day of her life – and yet it was her home. It was a bold decision to have her react in this manner, and one that demonstrates the undeniable complexity that abuse has on young minds.
Eleanor Figures it Out on The Good Place
A good twist is hard to pull off these days. Audiences are pretty plugged in to the tropes and setups of storytelling, which is why so many twists are random and disappointing, and often involve a character dying for no reason.
I came to The Good Place after season three had already finished, and had unfortunately been spoiled as to the first season’s big reveal. As such, I’ve no idea how well the twist was received when it first aired, or how off-guard it caught people. But it was a twist that made sense of the show’s premise, felt right to the characters’ development, and was subtly foreshadowed throughout the preceding twelve episodes. It worked beautifully.
After a fatal accident, Eleanor Shellshrop opens her eyes in a restful waiting room, and soon learns that she’s made it to the Good Place. A somewhat bumbling but benevolent angelic-figure called Michael shows her around, congratulating her on the good deeds she performed in life, and introducing her to the specially designed perks that have been tailored to her personal desires.
Only Eleanor knows something is up – during her lifetime, she was a terrible person, and the Eleanor that Michael describes bears no resemblance to her whatsoever. But her wrongful presence in Heaven is causing all sorts of mayhem, and she’s certain it’s only a matter of time before Michael and his associates catch on.
Perhaps the cleverest thing about The Good Place is that it uses its comedic premise and interest in ethical conundrums to partially obscure what’s really going on. After all, the ludicrousness of the havoc Eleanor causes, not to mention the dodgy “point system” of who gets into the Good Place and the dubious nature of its other residents feel like things that should be impossible in Paradise. And of course, that’s how Eleanor manages to figure things out…
It’s the look on Michael’s face that really sells this scene, unexpectedly turning this into a moment straight out of a horror movie. And that’s impressive.
Marmee Takes a Moment on Little Women
Not all the best moments have to be big, exhilarating, triumphant ones – the small, quiet ones can be just as powerful.
I really loved this adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, even though before seeing it I would have said it’s been brought to the screen more than enough times. But there was room for at least one more, and this had some top-notch casting for the March sisters, particularly Maya Hawke as Jo.
But the scene I have in mind concerns Marmee. On the morning of her eldest daughter’s wedding, she steps into the room where her daughters are preparing the bride, and is struck silent by the sight of her four children.
Everything is perfect: the lighting, the music, the posing of the girls – I think we all get at least one moment in life where everything just falls into place. This is Marmee’s moment, and afterwards she steps out into the hallway to have a little cry, knowing it’s the last time she’ll have all four of her daughters under the same roof.
What makes it particularly special is that this is a scene original to the miniseries; not to be found in Alcott’s novels. And yet it’s something one could easily imagine happening to Marmee and the March sisters, proving that screenwriter Heidi Thomas understood the spirit of the story and its characters.
The Fleet Arrives in Dunkirk
It’s no secret that Dunkirk is a dark movie – heck, the soundtrack alone is enough to send a person’s blood pressure skyrocketing, and Christopher Nolan’s aim was clearly to make the ordeal of the 330,000 soldiers left stranded on the beaches of Normandy as realistic and stressful as possible. In Nolan’s hands, the long and empty wait is just as excruciating as the violence and action sequences.
Having bombarded us with the horrors of war for over an hour, the audience is desperate for a reprieve – any reprieve – and finally it comes. Unbeknownst to the soldiers, ordinary English citizens have formed a makeshift flotilla of fishing boats, merchant vessels and pleasure boats and crossed the Channel to rescue their countrymen, leading to the safe evacuation of nearly everyone on the beach.
It’s up to Kenneth Branaugh to sell this moment, and you can hear not just the relief but the pride in his voice when he describes what’s coming: “home.” After all the fear, trauma and (understandable) selfishness of the soldiers that we’ve had to witness, it comes as a profound affirmation of humanity when the fleet arrives, making the operation a saving of not just lives, but hope for the general decency of humankind.
What makes it even more special for me is that my Great-Uncle Ken was in among these civilians, only fifteen years old at the time. He's now in his nineties, and still as sharp as a needle.
Honorary Mention:
I watched and enjoyed Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs this year: the stop-motion animation, the voice cast, the quirky yet heart-warming story, and yet my absolute favourite moment was the sight of Tilda Swinton’s lofty voice emerging from the mouth of a flat-nose pug as she dramatically declares: “it may snow tonight.”
Outstanding.
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