Oscar night has arrived. And with the Oscar recipients this year being all but a foregone conclusion, I post an alternative to the conversation happening throughout the rest of the film blogosphere.
Here are the best films of the 00s...
Showing posts with label Best of 2000s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Best of 2000s. Show all posts
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s
by Tony Dayoub
Oscar night has arrived. And with the Oscar recipients this year being all but a foregone conclusion, I post an alternative to the conversation happening throughout the rest of the film blogosphere.
Here are the best films of the 00s...
Oscar night has arrived. And with the Oscar recipients this year being all but a foregone conclusion, I post an alternative to the conversation happening throughout the rest of the film blogosphere.
Here are the best films of the 00s...
Saturday, March 6, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2009
by Tony Dayoub
2009 proved surprisingly robust in its cinematic offerings. It yielded two films which you'll see tomorrow when I wrap this up with my look at the Best of the Decade. In the meantime, this should prove to be a highly debatable list, as these lists often are when they are created so soon before any serious critical consensus has been achieved. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, I've included a link back to the original review for each film.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2009...
2009 proved surprisingly robust in its cinematic offerings. It yielded two films which you'll see tomorrow when I wrap this up with my look at the Best of the Decade. In the meantime, this should prove to be a highly debatable list, as these lists often are when they are created so soon before any serious critical consensus has been achieved. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, I've included a link back to the original review for each film.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2009...
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2008
by Tony Dayoub
This is a somewhat reworked repost of my 2008 end-of-year wrap-up, originally published on 1/23/09. The main difference is my inclusion of Üç Maymun (Three Monkeys) on the list instead of as an honorable mention. It replaces a television show (In Treatment) I included on the original list; not because I regret the original decision to include it, but because this series is really dedicated to discussing the decade's cinematic offerings.
I started blogging in 2008 so you should see a marked difference in my selection of films. This isn't by design, necessarily. 2008 just afforded me the opportunity to watch more movies through press screenings, screeners, and invitations to film festivals, now giving me additional access I wouldn't normally get in Atlanta. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll include a link back to the original review.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2008...
This is a somewhat reworked repost of my 2008 end-of-year wrap-up, originally published on 1/23/09. The main difference is my inclusion of Üç Maymun (Three Monkeys) on the list instead of as an honorable mention. It replaces a television show (In Treatment) I included on the original list; not because I regret the original decision to include it, but because this series is really dedicated to discussing the decade's cinematic offerings.
I started blogging in 2008 so you should see a marked difference in my selection of films. This isn't by design, necessarily. 2008 just afforded me the opportunity to watch more movies through press screenings, screeners, and invitations to film festivals, now giving me additional access I wouldn't normally get in Atlanta. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll include a link back to the original review.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2008...
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2007
by Tony Dayoub
2007 gave us one of the best years in American film in quite some time. Perhaps it is because so many of these films recall the second golden age in American cinema, the Seventies. Homages to Altman, Friedkin, Kubrick, Malick, Pakula, and Peckinpah are represented on the list. One master who had his most fruitful period in that decade even has a film that shows up on the list. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll include a link back to the original review.
Now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2007...
2007 gave us one of the best years in American film in quite some time. Perhaps it is because so many of these films recall the second golden age in American cinema, the Seventies. Homages to Altman, Friedkin, Kubrick, Malick, Pakula, and Peckinpah are represented on the list. One master who had his most fruitful period in that decade even has a film that shows up on the list. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I haven't seen it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll include a link back to the original review.
Now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2007...
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2006
by Tony Dayoub
My apologies for being sidetracked from this popular series of posts, but I had some obligations I needed to fulfill with some of my other writing. However, with most other lists of this kind having been wrapped up for some time now—and Hollywood's own celebration of the films of 2009 approaching in the form of the Oscars—I am feeling some pressure to finish this survey of the best films of the decade. Once again, a reminder that I can't judge movies I haven't seen (which was entirely possible in 2006 since my first son had just been born, and we had just relocated to a different state). So if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I just never got to it. But definitely suggest it in the comments section below.
So now, without further ado, and in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2006...
Bug, director William Friedkin - A return to form for Friedkin (The Exorcist), a director many had written off long ago. This chilling film, based on Tracy Letts' play, benefits greatly from Michael Shannon's breakout performance. Bug also recalls a little seen Nicolas Roeg film, Track 29 (1988), about a lonely woman bonding with a mysterious drifter who may be the son she gave up for adoption when she was a teenager. In this iteration, Ashley Judd does an outstanding job playing down her usually glamorous looks to play a devastated woman whose son disappeared years ago. Her fragile state of mind contributes to the bond forged between her and Shannon's unhinged entomophobic.
Casino Royale, dir. Martin Campbell - Sure, it would be simple to credit actor Daniel Craig for reinvigorating the stale, old character of superspy 007. He does bring a callous brutality which hasn't been seen in Bond since Sean Connery played the part nearly 50 years ago. But Campbell 's practically revelatory direction of the film goes further in breaking the formulaic rut this series was stuck in. Minimizing the silly gadgetry, bringing in a strong supporting cast (including Eva Green and Giancarlo Giannini), and making the normally impervious secret agent a thuggish rookie are a few things that help. The pivotal decision, however, was in filming a surprisingly faithful adaptation of Ian Fleming's first 007 story, a small-scale battle of wits with global implications set over a card table.
Children of Men, dir. Alfonso Cuarón - What are the chances such a deeply humanistic film would also turn out to be the most important science fiction film since perhaps, Blade Runner (1982)? Set in an Earth dying by fits and starts, the story of Theo Faron (Clive Owen) and his mission to transport a mother and her baby—the first born in over 18 years—is profound, emotionally resonant, and tightly paced. So one can be forgiven if Emmanuel Lubezki's fantastic camerawork is overlooked amidst the constant stream of action. There are at least three single-take shots—one shot of a climactic battle runs over 6 minutes—which will have you scratching your head and wondering, "How'd they do that?"
The Departed, dir. Martin Scorsese - Neither the horrible film most of its detractors call it, nor the best film on Scorsese's resume—as its box office receipts and awards would suggest—this gritty cop thriller is just a well manufactured genre piece. Most times it is these boilerplate productions which reveal more of the director's strengths than the more complex fare. In this case, those virtues are his mastery over an ensemble cast (Damon, DiCaprio, Baldwin, Farmiga, Sheen, Wahlberg, Winstone, and the inimitable Jack Nicholson) and his ability to keep the story focused despite the potential for some serious sidetracking into the culture and customs of criminals and cops in the city of Boston.
The Fountain, dir. Darren Aronofsky - Aronofsky's most underrated film is probably his best. This triptych stars Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz as past, present, and future paramours investigating the scientific and metaphysical aspects of the Tree of Life. The movie's startling imagery is on a par with the best that science fiction cinema has ever offered us. And the intertwining romance still resonates long after the memory of the film's spectacular dreamscape has faded.
Inland Empire, dir. David Lynch - After spending an incredible amount of time deciphering Lost Highway (1997) and Mulholland Drive (successfully, I believe), the disappointment that emerges with the evaporation of all the mystery is not something I care to repeat with any Lynch movie. So with this one, I resign myself to deliberate head-scratching. Perhaps it's his most self-indulgent exercise since the ultimate student film, Eraserhead (a thesis film which he spent 5 years making); so indulgent, it often borders on the self-parodic (six-foot-tall bunnies, anyone?). But at least this one has one of the decade's greatest performances going for it, a dual one by Laura Dern as both an actress and the physical manifestation of the role she plays in the film-within-the film she stars in.
Inside Man, dir. Spike Lee - This tense heist flick echoes Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon (1975). Not surprising, since Lee has previously acknowledged the veteran New York director's influence on his work. Like in the earlier film, the motive for the bank robbery is behind a surprising turn two-thirds of the way in. And like in that film, Lee is unafraid to inject social issues in an otherwise average thriller to keep the pot simmering. Clive Owen and Denzel Washington are effective antagonists.
Miami Vice, dir. Michael Mann - From a comment I left at Jake's recent review at Not Just Movies:
The Prestige, dir. Christopher Nolan - This is Jackman's second appearance this year in a young director's best film. So why can't he connect outside of fantasy-inflected efforts? Well, there is a certain hamminess inherent in his style that lends itself to larger-than-life roles like superheroes (X-Men Origins: Wolverine) or showmen (this film). Kenneth Branagh might want to reserve a space for him in his next Shakespeare adaptation. Anyway, Nolan's tricky film never cheats as it skillfully explores his favorite themes of duality and deception in a rivalry between two turn-of-the-century stage magicians. Bonus points for finagling an extended cameo from David Bowie.
The Queen, dir. Stephen Frears - This sometimes humorous depiction of the British royals begins just before Tony Blair's election win and segues right into the week that Princess Diana died. Michael Sheen continues his portrayal of Blair begun in the first part of screenwriter Peter Morgan's triptych, The Deal
, and to be concluded in HBO's upcoming The Special Relationship. But the real star here is Helen Mirren as Queen Elizabeth. While almost all of the insular royals are shown here to be completely out of touch with their subjects' feelings over Di's passing, Mirren's Queen often reveals a "common touch," attributed to her time serving in uniform during WWII. Morgan's sarcasm towards the royals is leavened by Frears' rather sympathetic view towards them, best illustrated in a quietly beautiful scene where the Queen is confronted by a 14-point stag on the grounds of her estate. Her grief when she hears of the stag's death later on reveals how deeply she identified with him and her awareness that the monarchy is slowly being phased out of existence.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
My apologies for being sidetracked from this popular series of posts, but I had some obligations I needed to fulfill with some of my other writing. However, with most other lists of this kind having been wrapped up for some time now—and Hollywood's own celebration of the films of 2009 approaching in the form of the Oscars—I am feeling some pressure to finish this survey of the best films of the decade. Once again, a reminder that I can't judge movies I haven't seen (which was entirely possible in 2006 since my first son had just been born, and we had just relocated to a different state). So if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I just never got to it. But definitely suggest it in the comments section below.
So now, without further ado, and in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2006...
Bug, director William Friedkin - A return to form for Friedkin (The Exorcist), a director many had written off long ago. This chilling film, based on Tracy Letts' play, benefits greatly from Michael Shannon's breakout performance. Bug also recalls a little seen Nicolas Roeg film, Track 29 (1988), about a lonely woman bonding with a mysterious drifter who may be the son she gave up for adoption when she was a teenager. In this iteration, Ashley Judd does an outstanding job playing down her usually glamorous looks to play a devastated woman whose son disappeared years ago. Her fragile state of mind contributes to the bond forged between her and Shannon's unhinged entomophobic.
Casino Royale, dir. Martin Campbell - Sure, it would be simple to credit actor Daniel Craig for reinvigorating the stale, old character of superspy 007. He does bring a callous brutality which hasn't been seen in Bond since Sean Connery played the part nearly 50 years ago. But Campbell 's practically revelatory direction of the film goes further in breaking the formulaic rut this series was stuck in. Minimizing the silly gadgetry, bringing in a strong supporting cast (including Eva Green and Giancarlo Giannini), and making the normally impervious secret agent a thuggish rookie are a few things that help. The pivotal decision, however, was in filming a surprisingly faithful adaptation of Ian Fleming's first 007 story, a small-scale battle of wits with global implications set over a card table.
Children of Men, dir. Alfonso Cuarón - What are the chances such a deeply humanistic film would also turn out to be the most important science fiction film since perhaps, Blade Runner (1982)? Set in an Earth dying by fits and starts, the story of Theo Faron (Clive Owen) and his mission to transport a mother and her baby—the first born in over 18 years—is profound, emotionally resonant, and tightly paced. So one can be forgiven if Emmanuel Lubezki's fantastic camerawork is overlooked amidst the constant stream of action. There are at least three single-take shots—one shot of a climactic battle runs over 6 minutes—which will have you scratching your head and wondering, "How'd they do that?"
The Departed, dir. Martin Scorsese - Neither the horrible film most of its detractors call it, nor the best film on Scorsese's resume—as its box office receipts and awards would suggest—this gritty cop thriller is just a well manufactured genre piece. Most times it is these boilerplate productions which reveal more of the director's strengths than the more complex fare. In this case, those virtues are his mastery over an ensemble cast (Damon, DiCaprio, Baldwin, Farmiga, Sheen, Wahlberg, Winstone, and the inimitable Jack Nicholson) and his ability to keep the story focused despite the potential for some serious sidetracking into the culture and customs of criminals and cops in the city of Boston.
The Fountain, dir. Darren Aronofsky - Aronofsky's most underrated film is probably his best. This triptych stars Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz as past, present, and future paramours investigating the scientific and metaphysical aspects of the Tree of Life. The movie's startling imagery is on a par with the best that science fiction cinema has ever offered us. And the intertwining romance still resonates long after the memory of the film's spectacular dreamscape has faded.
Inland Empire, dir. David Lynch - After spending an incredible amount of time deciphering Lost Highway (1997) and Mulholland Drive (successfully, I believe), the disappointment that emerges with the evaporation of all the mystery is not something I care to repeat with any Lynch movie. So with this one, I resign myself to deliberate head-scratching. Perhaps it's his most self-indulgent exercise since the ultimate student film, Eraserhead (a thesis film which he spent 5 years making); so indulgent, it often borders on the self-parodic (six-foot-tall bunnies, anyone?). But at least this one has one of the decade's greatest performances going for it, a dual one by Laura Dern as both an actress and the physical manifestation of the role she plays in the film-within-the film she stars in.
Inside Man, dir. Spike Lee - This tense heist flick echoes Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon (1975). Not surprising, since Lee has previously acknowledged the veteran New York director's influence on his work. Like in the earlier film, the motive for the bank robbery is behind a surprising turn two-thirds of the way in. And like in that film, Lee is unafraid to inject social issues in an otherwise average thriller to keep the pot simmering. Clive Owen and Denzel Washington are effective antagonists.
Miami Vice, dir. Michael Mann - From a comment I left at Jake's recent review at Not Just Movies:
... Scarface was a major influence on Mann's first incarnation of Vice, which echoed a lot of the pastel colors, art deco production design, and synthesized music from De Palma's film. Vice in turn played a big part in turning Miami into "...a bit of a carelessly painted-over dump...all the time using [the film's] color scheme to undermine the hollow allure of the city."* Much of the revitalization and gentrification of South Beach began with and was coordinated by Vice's TV production crews looking to glamourize the area for location shooting. Ironically, Mann closes the circle with the movie's depiction of a city leading a double life, one which was unintendedly initiated by his vision of the city to begin with.*Quote taken from Jake's review.
The Prestige, dir. Christopher Nolan - This is Jackman's second appearance this year in a young director's best film. So why can't he connect outside of fantasy-inflected efforts? Well, there is a certain hamminess inherent in his style that lends itself to larger-than-life roles like superheroes (X-Men Origins: Wolverine) or showmen (this film). Kenneth Branagh might want to reserve a space for him in his next Shakespeare adaptation. Anyway, Nolan's tricky film never cheats as it skillfully explores his favorite themes of duality and deception in a rivalry between two turn-of-the-century stage magicians. Bonus points for finagling an extended cameo from David Bowie.
The Queen, dir. Stephen Frears - This sometimes humorous depiction of the British royals begins just before Tony Blair's election win and segues right into the week that Princess Diana died. Michael Sheen continues his portrayal of Blair begun in the first part of screenwriter Peter Morgan's triptych, The Deal
, and to be concluded in HBO's upcoming The Special Relationship. But the real star here is Helen Mirren as Queen Elizabeth. While almost all of the insular royals are shown here to be completely out of touch with their subjects' feelings over Di's passing, Mirren's Queen often reveals a "common touch," attributed to her time serving in uniform during WWII. Morgan's sarcasm towards the royals is leavened by Frears' rather sympathetic view towards them, best illustrated in a quietly beautiful scene where the Queen is confronted by a 14-point stag on the grounds of her estate. Her grief when she hears of the stag's death later on reveals how deeply she identified with him and her awareness that the monarchy is slowly being phased out of existence.For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2005
by Tony Dayoub
Sorry for the delay. I've had a heck of a stomach virus. Today, I continue my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, spotlighting my favorite films of 2005. Steven Spielberg deserves special recognition for giving us two of the best films of the decade in one year, a cautionary science fiction tale and a historical thriller, both of which address post-9/11 concerns. A reminder: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the 2000s.
And now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2005...
2046, director Wong Kar Wai - An entrancing companion to Wong's In the Mood for Love, it follows that film's lead, writer Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung Chiu Wai), through a string of affairs in the wake of his failure to consumate his love for the previous film's Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung). It's a wonderful excuse for Wong and Christopher Doyle to photograph some of the most fascinating Asian actresses out there: Li Gong, Faye Wong, and Ziyi Zhang. And it's likely the only time you'll see a fusion of science fiction, period drama, and romantic thriller in any film, much less a Hong Kong art film.
The 40-Year-Old Virgin, dir. Judd Apatow - Sweet, silly, filthy, and uncannily on target, Apatow's film directing debut is also one funny movie. Steve Carell (The Office) plays the anti-Michael Scott, a sexually naive, but not entirely ignorant, stereo store clerk. His charming performance as an amiable dork helps ameliorate Apatow's occasional inclination toward (over-) extended dialogue riffs that are just this side of offensive.
The Constant Gardener, dir. Fernando Meirelles - Ralph Fiennes' diplomat, Justin Quayle, may be the onstensible hero in this exposé on pharmaceutical misdeeds in Kenya, adapted from John le Carré's 2001 novel. But the true heart and soul of this film resides in Rachel Weisz's portrayal of Quayle's spirited activist wife, Tessa. Her murder is the film's inciting incident, but Weisz's engaging performance— captured in impressionistic flashbacks woven into the chronologically fractured narrative—hangs like a spectre over the rest of the corporate espionage thriller.
Grizzly Man, dir. Werner Herzog - The German director fashioned much of this haunting documentary from found footage of Timothy Treadwell, an idealistic environmentalist who died as he lived, among dangerous grizzly bears in Alaska. At the outset of the film, Treadwell doesn't seem any stranger than your average animal documentary host (it takes a certain kind of person to fill that position). But as the movie progresses his quirks—and anecdotal evidence from those who knew him—pile up to form an image of a man not unlike the misguided, obsessive protagonists of Herzog's fictional narratives.
A History of Violence, dir. David Cronenberg - One of the best arguments for using graphic novels as source material, Violence is easily Cronenberg's best and most accessible film in a decade full of such films from the usually cold and cerebral director. Cronenberg (The Fly) examines the effects of violence on a small-town family after Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen) defends his coffee shop from a hold-up. The director implies that violence begets more violence, and explores the idea that perhaps it is hereditary; Stall's son (Ashton Holmes), often picked on by bullies, begins to display a knack for ending fights as well; and Stall's brother (William Hurt in an Oscar-nominated role as a Philly gangland boss) has a propensity for violence as well. What it boils down to is not whether violence is genetically ingrained, but if a person has the will to overcome those tendencies.
Munich, Dir. Steven Spielberg - Spielberg's second film of the year (see War of the Worlds below) finds him still working out some of his feelings post-9/11. His cultural background comes into play here, as the story explores the price paid by an Israeli Mossad agent (Eric Bana) when he becomes all too aware of the complicated feelings and repercussions that arise when he seeks retribution for the murder of 11 Israeli athletes in 1972's Munich Olympics by Palestinian terrorists. Look for Daniel Craig in a supporting role, first showing some of the leading man potential used to great effect in Casino Royale just one year later.
The New World, dir. Terrence Malick - Malick averages one film every decade. But if they all achieve the glorious transcendence which this film does, it's fine with me. Here, he fuses the fact and mythology behind the legend of Pocahontas (exquisitely portrayed by the young Q'orianka Kilcher) and John Smith (Colin Farrell), continuing his exploration of man's tendency towards violence and its effect on nature. The two lovers overcome cultural differences to create a harmonious oasis of peace in an unforgiving world. Malick overcomes the limitations of language both aural and visual to convey the beauty of paradise lost.
Sin City, dirs. Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez - Forget The Wrestler (well not really, it's quite good). Marv, the beat-up but never broken bruiser at the center of Sin City's best segment, is the role that heralded Mickey Rourke's comeback. Even under a thick layer of prosthetics, nifty effects, and a mannered performance dictated by the neo-noir stylings of Frank Miller's graphic novels
, Rourke's gravel-inflected voice and brawler's physique help convey the sweet soul of this pitiable but heroic loser. His performance helps close the circle begun by the noir films that inspired Miller's comics in the first place.
Syriana, dir. Stephen Gaghan - Gaghan's film is as much a primer on the forces driving U.S. dealings in the Middle East as the film he won the Oscar for writing, Traffic, is a primer on the drug trade. The great ensemble cast includes Matt Damon, Jeffrey Wright, Chris Cooper, William Hurt, and Christopher Plummer. But the two standouts are Alexander Siddig (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) as the wise young Prince Nasir, and George Clooney in his best performance as CIA agent Bob Barnes, a stand-in for the former agent whose exploits provided the source material for the film, Robert Baer.
War of the Worlds, dir. Steven Spielberg - The first of Spielberg's 2005 diptych addressing the post-9/11 temperature (see Munich above) sees the director creating sympathy for a (usually) absent father (Tom Cruise) forced by circumstances to own up to his responsibilities. This is quite a turnaround for the older, wiser director whose usual focus on broken families rarely sides with the father while typically idealizing him (Dreyfus in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Ford in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull). Here, Cruise is presented warts and all, usually bumbling into a heroic save.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Sorry for the delay. I've had a heck of a stomach virus. Today, I continue my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, spotlighting my favorite films of 2005. Steven Spielberg deserves special recognition for giving us two of the best films of the decade in one year, a cautionary science fiction tale and a historical thriller, both of which address post-9/11 concerns. A reminder: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the 2000s.
And now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2005...
2046, director Wong Kar Wai - An entrancing companion to Wong's In the Mood for Love, it follows that film's lead, writer Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung Chiu Wai), through a string of affairs in the wake of his failure to consumate his love for the previous film's Su Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung). It's a wonderful excuse for Wong and Christopher Doyle to photograph some of the most fascinating Asian actresses out there: Li Gong, Faye Wong, and Ziyi Zhang. And it's likely the only time you'll see a fusion of science fiction, period drama, and romantic thriller in any film, much less a Hong Kong art film.
The 40-Year-Old Virgin, dir. Judd Apatow - Sweet, silly, filthy, and uncannily on target, Apatow's film directing debut is also one funny movie. Steve Carell (The Office) plays the anti-Michael Scott, a sexually naive, but not entirely ignorant, stereo store clerk. His charming performance as an amiable dork helps ameliorate Apatow's occasional inclination toward (over-) extended dialogue riffs that are just this side of offensive.
The Constant Gardener, dir. Fernando Meirelles - Ralph Fiennes' diplomat, Justin Quayle, may be the onstensible hero in this exposé on pharmaceutical misdeeds in Kenya, adapted from John le Carré's 2001 novel. But the true heart and soul of this film resides in Rachel Weisz's portrayal of Quayle's spirited activist wife, Tessa. Her murder is the film's inciting incident, but Weisz's engaging performance— captured in impressionistic flashbacks woven into the chronologically fractured narrative—hangs like a spectre over the rest of the corporate espionage thriller.
Grizzly Man, dir. Werner Herzog - The German director fashioned much of this haunting documentary from found footage of Timothy Treadwell, an idealistic environmentalist who died as he lived, among dangerous grizzly bears in Alaska. At the outset of the film, Treadwell doesn't seem any stranger than your average animal documentary host (it takes a certain kind of person to fill that position). But as the movie progresses his quirks—and anecdotal evidence from those who knew him—pile up to form an image of a man not unlike the misguided, obsessive protagonists of Herzog's fictional narratives.
A History of Violence, dir. David Cronenberg - One of the best arguments for using graphic novels as source material, Violence is easily Cronenberg's best and most accessible film in a decade full of such films from the usually cold and cerebral director. Cronenberg (The Fly) examines the effects of violence on a small-town family after Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen) defends his coffee shop from a hold-up. The director implies that violence begets more violence, and explores the idea that perhaps it is hereditary; Stall's son (Ashton Holmes), often picked on by bullies, begins to display a knack for ending fights as well; and Stall's brother (William Hurt in an Oscar-nominated role as a Philly gangland boss) has a propensity for violence as well. What it boils down to is not whether violence is genetically ingrained, but if a person has the will to overcome those tendencies.
Munich, Dir. Steven Spielberg - Spielberg's second film of the year (see War of the Worlds below) finds him still working out some of his feelings post-9/11. His cultural background comes into play here, as the story explores the price paid by an Israeli Mossad agent (Eric Bana) when he becomes all too aware of the complicated feelings and repercussions that arise when he seeks retribution for the murder of 11 Israeli athletes in 1972's Munich Olympics by Palestinian terrorists. Look for Daniel Craig in a supporting role, first showing some of the leading man potential used to great effect in Casino Royale just one year later.
The New World, dir. Terrence Malick - Malick averages one film every decade. But if they all achieve the glorious transcendence which this film does, it's fine with me. Here, he fuses the fact and mythology behind the legend of Pocahontas (exquisitely portrayed by the young Q'orianka Kilcher) and John Smith (Colin Farrell), continuing his exploration of man's tendency towards violence and its effect on nature. The two lovers overcome cultural differences to create a harmonious oasis of peace in an unforgiving world. Malick overcomes the limitations of language both aural and visual to convey the beauty of paradise lost.
Sin City, dirs. Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez - Forget The Wrestler (well not really, it's quite good). Marv, the beat-up but never broken bruiser at the center of Sin City's best segment, is the role that heralded Mickey Rourke's comeback. Even under a thick layer of prosthetics, nifty effects, and a mannered performance dictated by the neo-noir stylings of Frank Miller's graphic novels
, Rourke's gravel-inflected voice and brawler's physique help convey the sweet soul of this pitiable but heroic loser. His performance helps close the circle begun by the noir films that inspired Miller's comics in the first place.
Syriana, dir. Stephen Gaghan - Gaghan's film is as much a primer on the forces driving U.S. dealings in the Middle East as the film he won the Oscar for writing, Traffic, is a primer on the drug trade. The great ensemble cast includes Matt Damon, Jeffrey Wright, Chris Cooper, William Hurt, and Christopher Plummer. But the two standouts are Alexander Siddig (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) as the wise young Prince Nasir, and George Clooney in his best performance as CIA agent Bob Barnes, a stand-in for the former agent whose exploits provided the source material for the film, Robert Baer.
War of the Worlds, dir. Steven Spielberg - The first of Spielberg's 2005 diptych addressing the post-9/11 temperature (see Munich above) sees the director creating sympathy for a (usually) absent father (Tom Cruise) forced by circumstances to own up to his responsibilities. This is quite a turnaround for the older, wiser director whose usual focus on broken families rarely sides with the father while typically idealizing him (Dreyfus in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Ford in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull). Here, Cruise is presented warts and all, usually bumbling into a heroic save.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2004
by Tony Dayoub
Continuing my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, today I spotlight my favorite films of 2004. Following last year's particularly weak showing, this year proved to be quite a boon for American cinema, so much so that I didn't leave room for any foreign pics—for which I'll be properly chastised, no doubt. A reminder: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the 2000s.
And now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2004...
The Aviator, director Martin Scorsese - Leonardo DiCaprio and Scorsese's most fruitful collaboration thus far. This Howard Hughes biopic focuses on some of his most productive years as an aero-design innovator (moonlighting as a lingerie engineer to maximize his new starlet Jane Russell's natural assets in one funny sequence), before sanity starts to slip away. A sequel could prove interesting (only with both director and star's participation). Casting here is a bit uneven. Cate Blanchett as another famous Kate and Alec Baldwin as Pan Am exec Juan Trippe: perfect. Kate Beckinsale as Ava Gardner and Jude Law as Errol Flynn: not so much. But this gleaming bauble of a film is beautifully shot by Robert Richardson (Inglourious Basterds), and scored memorably by Howard Shore.
Birth, dir. Jonathan Glazer - Glazer's adult approach to the fairy tale idea of eternal love between a wife (Nicole Kidman) and her late husband—who may be reincarnated in a boy (Cameron Bright) with the same name, Sean—often goes right up to the edge of disturbing. But it never crosses the line despite the director's Kubrickian eye for the events unfolding onscreen. A large part of the credit goes to composer Alexandre Desplat (The Twilight Saga: New Moon) for orchestrating one of the most lushly romantic scores ever committed to celluloid, and definitely the best score of the 2000s. Desplat keeps Glazer's tale tethered to a dreamy, fanciful plane at counterpoint with the grimness of Harris Savides' wonderfully dark cinematography. And Glazer and his editors, Sam Sneade and Claus Wehlisch, cut the movie so well to the music, that it's almost as if the score existed before the film was even shot. The first shot, a long take of the older Sean running through a snowy Central Park is the most absorbing and powerful opening to an American film in years.
Closer, dir. Mike Nichols - A sadder companion piece to Nichols' earlier exploration into sexual politics, Carnal Knowledge (1971). Here, the women (Natalie Portman and Julia Roberts) get a greater opportunity to have their say than in the original film which was purely told from the perspective of Nicholson and Garfunkel's two cads. And what they say is as rough and shocking as any bitter recrimination tossed at you during a relationship-finisher with a significant other. Patrick Marber contributes the expletive-laced screenplay based on his own play.
Collateral, dir. Michael Mann - This cat-and-mouse exercise left me cold when I first saw it theatrically. I just wasn't hip yet to how delicate Dion Beebe and Paul Cameron's digital video photography really is. Optimum screens are required, and at that point most exhibitors were out of the loop. Only on an HD home screen did the beauty of the low-light photography (which to my unskilled eye, looks mostly like ambient lighting) reveal itself, and the film came to life. Night clouds pregnant with the glow of L.A.'s sodium lights have never looked more vivid. Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx have great chemistry in this, a rare outing as a nihilistic baddie for Cruise.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, dir. Michel Gondry - A paradoxical documentary-like look into the human soul is the best way to describe Gondry and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's vision. Kaufman (Being John Malkovich) again treats a well-worn subject—the difficult break-up—with imaginative whimsy, poetic reverence, and melancholy reality. Jim Carrey—an often polarizing presence when allowed free rein—plays it remarkably straight here, even when he regresses to his memory's version of the child he once was. Kate Winslet nails the sprightly fuck-up Clementine, who incites the events in the film when she goes to Lacuna Inc. to have the memory of her relationship with Carrey's Joel erased.
I ♥ Huckabees, dir. David O. Russell - A thought-provoking madcap existential detective comedy may sound inherently contradictory, but somehow Russell (Three Kings) pulls it off. And his cast—actors (like Dustin Hoffman, Isabelle Huppert, Jude Law, Jason Schwartzman, Lily Tomlin, Mark Wahlberg, and Naomi Watts) with distinctly different approaches to their craft—are always on the same page (or blanket). You'll know you understand the film if you not just laugh at, but appreciate Watt's admonishment, "I'm in my tree talking to the Dixie Chicks, and they're making me feel better."
The Incredibles, dir. Brad Bird - Equal parts James Bond and Fantastic Four filtered through Jim Steranko's dynamic aesthetic is the basis for Pixar's best movie. Director Bird also infuses the film with a personal touch, addressing the way starting a family can change one's life overnight. A wonderful John Barry/007-inspired score by Michael Giacchino (Lost) seals the deal.
Kill Bill: Vol. 2, dir. Quentin Tarantino - The promise Tarantino displayed in volume 1 of his epic is fulfilled in this vastly superior followup that's a cross between a spaghetti western and a chopsocky flick. Perhaps it is because here he graduates to a deeper concern with the emotional underpinnings of the Bride's quest than the physical histrionics of the first film suggested (the Bride finally gets a name, for one thing). Uma Thurman is given a chance to exercise her acting chops in ways she hasn't since her last alliance with the director in Pulp Fiction. And she holds her own quite well opposite David Carradine as Bill, despite Tarantino's overreliance on hip dialogue in the third act when a visceral catharsis is what's really called for.
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, dir. Wes Anderson - A transitional film for Anderson, I think. Aquatic seems to open up the canvas somewhat, and his collaboration with animator Henry Selick (who brings the sea fauna to life) predates their partnership in Fantastic Mr. Fox (Selick ultimately quit). The best sequences in the movie—a tour of Zissou's ship, the Belafonte, in cutaway; the Belafonte's hijacking by pirates; Team Zissou's rescue of Alistair Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum)—evoke the feeling of children playing pretend war games while running around with dad's minicam, or at the very least, one of Max Fischer's plays come to life. Forget about the absurdity of hearing Bowie songs reinterpreted in Portuguese by Zissou's Brazilian crewman, Pelé (Seu Jorge). Any film that cuts a montage to Devo's "Gut Feeling" gets points with me.
Napoleon Dynamite, dir. Jared Hess - I rarely get into comedies. They've either got to be extremely witty or so absurd as to feel like they were shot in some alternate universe. This film falls into the latter category. Not only is Napoleon (Jon Heder) incredibly inane, he seems postively insightful next to the rest of the denizens of his small town. This is perhaps my most controversial pick of the decade, and I'll surely hear so from someone in the comments. I can't even tell you why this makes me shake with paroxysms of laughter every time I see it. The fact that it defies analysis is one of the reasons it appears here.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Continuing my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, today I spotlight my favorite films of 2004. Following last year's particularly weak showing, this year proved to be quite a boon for American cinema, so much so that I didn't leave room for any foreign pics—for which I'll be properly chastised, no doubt. A reminder: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the 2000s.
And now, in alphabetical order, the ten best films of 2004...
The Aviator, director Martin Scorsese - Leonardo DiCaprio and Scorsese's most fruitful collaboration thus far. This Howard Hughes biopic focuses on some of his most productive years as an aero-design innovator (moonlighting as a lingerie engineer to maximize his new starlet Jane Russell's natural assets in one funny sequence), before sanity starts to slip away. A sequel could prove interesting (only with both director and star's participation). Casting here is a bit uneven. Cate Blanchett as another famous Kate and Alec Baldwin as Pan Am exec Juan Trippe: perfect. Kate Beckinsale as Ava Gardner and Jude Law as Errol Flynn: not so much. But this gleaming bauble of a film is beautifully shot by Robert Richardson (Inglourious Basterds), and scored memorably by Howard Shore.
Birth, dir. Jonathan Glazer - Glazer's adult approach to the fairy tale idea of eternal love between a wife (Nicole Kidman) and her late husband—who may be reincarnated in a boy (Cameron Bright) with the same name, Sean—often goes right up to the edge of disturbing. But it never crosses the line despite the director's Kubrickian eye for the events unfolding onscreen. A large part of the credit goes to composer Alexandre Desplat (The Twilight Saga: New Moon) for orchestrating one of the most lushly romantic scores ever committed to celluloid, and definitely the best score of the 2000s. Desplat keeps Glazer's tale tethered to a dreamy, fanciful plane at counterpoint with the grimness of Harris Savides' wonderfully dark cinematography. And Glazer and his editors, Sam Sneade and Claus Wehlisch, cut the movie so well to the music, that it's almost as if the score existed before the film was even shot. The first shot, a long take of the older Sean running through a snowy Central Park is the most absorbing and powerful opening to an American film in years.
Closer, dir. Mike Nichols - A sadder companion piece to Nichols' earlier exploration into sexual politics, Carnal Knowledge (1971). Here, the women (Natalie Portman and Julia Roberts) get a greater opportunity to have their say than in the original film which was purely told from the perspective of Nicholson and Garfunkel's two cads. And what they say is as rough and shocking as any bitter recrimination tossed at you during a relationship-finisher with a significant other. Patrick Marber contributes the expletive-laced screenplay based on his own play.
Collateral, dir. Michael Mann - This cat-and-mouse exercise left me cold when I first saw it theatrically. I just wasn't hip yet to how delicate Dion Beebe and Paul Cameron's digital video photography really is. Optimum screens are required, and at that point most exhibitors were out of the loop. Only on an HD home screen did the beauty of the low-light photography (which to my unskilled eye, looks mostly like ambient lighting) reveal itself, and the film came to life. Night clouds pregnant with the glow of L.A.'s sodium lights have never looked more vivid. Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx have great chemistry in this, a rare outing as a nihilistic baddie for Cruise.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, dir. Michel Gondry - A paradoxical documentary-like look into the human soul is the best way to describe Gondry and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's vision. Kaufman (Being John Malkovich) again treats a well-worn subject—the difficult break-up—with imaginative whimsy, poetic reverence, and melancholy reality. Jim Carrey—an often polarizing presence when allowed free rein—plays it remarkably straight here, even when he regresses to his memory's version of the child he once was. Kate Winslet nails the sprightly fuck-up Clementine, who incites the events in the film when she goes to Lacuna Inc. to have the memory of her relationship with Carrey's Joel erased.
I ♥ Huckabees, dir. David O. Russell - A thought-provoking madcap existential detective comedy may sound inherently contradictory, but somehow Russell (Three Kings) pulls it off. And his cast—actors (like Dustin Hoffman, Isabelle Huppert, Jude Law, Jason Schwartzman, Lily Tomlin, Mark Wahlberg, and Naomi Watts) with distinctly different approaches to their craft—are always on the same page (or blanket). You'll know you understand the film if you not just laugh at, but appreciate Watt's admonishment, "I'm in my tree talking to the Dixie Chicks, and they're making me feel better."
The Incredibles, dir. Brad Bird - Equal parts James Bond and Fantastic Four filtered through Jim Steranko's dynamic aesthetic is the basis for Pixar's best movie. Director Bird also infuses the film with a personal touch, addressing the way starting a family can change one's life overnight. A wonderful John Barry/007-inspired score by Michael Giacchino (Lost) seals the deal.
Kill Bill: Vol. 2, dir. Quentin Tarantino - The promise Tarantino displayed in volume 1 of his epic is fulfilled in this vastly superior followup that's a cross between a spaghetti western and a chopsocky flick. Perhaps it is because here he graduates to a deeper concern with the emotional underpinnings of the Bride's quest than the physical histrionics of the first film suggested (the Bride finally gets a name, for one thing). Uma Thurman is given a chance to exercise her acting chops in ways she hasn't since her last alliance with the director in Pulp Fiction. And she holds her own quite well opposite David Carradine as Bill, despite Tarantino's overreliance on hip dialogue in the third act when a visceral catharsis is what's really called for.
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, dir. Wes Anderson - A transitional film for Anderson, I think. Aquatic seems to open up the canvas somewhat, and his collaboration with animator Henry Selick (who brings the sea fauna to life) predates their partnership in Fantastic Mr. Fox (Selick ultimately quit). The best sequences in the movie—a tour of Zissou's ship, the Belafonte, in cutaway; the Belafonte's hijacking by pirates; Team Zissou's rescue of Alistair Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum)—evoke the feeling of children playing pretend war games while running around with dad's minicam, or at the very least, one of Max Fischer's plays come to life. Forget about the absurdity of hearing Bowie songs reinterpreted in Portuguese by Zissou's Brazilian crewman, Pelé (Seu Jorge). Any film that cuts a montage to Devo's "Gut Feeling" gets points with me.
Napoleon Dynamite, dir. Jared Hess - I rarely get into comedies. They've either got to be extremely witty or so absurd as to feel like they were shot in some alternate universe. This film falls into the latter category. Not only is Napoleon (Jon Heder) incredibly inane, he seems postively insightful next to the rest of the denizens of his small town. This is perhaps my most controversial pick of the decade, and I'll surely hear so from someone in the comments. I can't even tell you why this makes me shake with paroxysms of laughter every time I see it. The fact that it defies analysis is one of the reasons it appears here.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The Best Films of the 00s: 2003
by Tony Dayoub
Happy New Year to all. Due to some childcare issues over the course of the holidays posts have been a little slower than usual, but they should be picking up some speed this month. Continuing my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, today I spotlight my favorite films of 2003. This year was a particularly weak year for cinema in my opinion, so you might see some unusual entries. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll simply refer back to the original review. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the past decade.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2003...
Dogville, director Lars von Trier - Nicole Kidman carries this movie in a performance I feel safe in calling brave. Here, she is put through the wringer by von Trier (Europa), who stages the story like a black box theater production, its set sparingly delineated with chalk and the bare minimum of props. The staging serves the dual purpose of detaching you emotionally from the harrowing treatment of Kidman's Grace and focuses your attention on the spectacular acting by the stellar ensemble cast: Lauren Bacall, Paul Bettany, Blair Brown, James Caan, Patricia Clarkson, Jeremy Davies, Ben Gazzara, Philip Baker Hall, Željko Ivanek, Chloe Sevigny, and Stellan Skarsgård. An indictment of America's small-town libertarians, it offended many at the time of its release but has only grown more relevant with the advent of Beck, Palin, the Tea-Partiers, and other populist movements that encourage ignorance and close-mindedness.
The Dreamers, dir. Bernardo Bertolucci - Review here.
Elephant, dir. Gus Van Sant - A disquieting look at a fictional school shooting inspired by the tragic events at Columbine in 1999. Van Sant (Milk) seems to stop time by keying in on several moments leading up to the shooting, playing and replaying them from different perspectives. What emerges is an empathetic look at the victims and the killers even while Van Sant manages to never excuse the murderers for their crime. While he implies that the teen killers' alienation from their schoolmates may have been a contributing cause, he also takes pains to emphasize that all the other teenagers suffer some form of alienation from one another, and they don't resort to the same act.
Hulk, dir. Ang Lee - This is the closest a movie gets to a superhero art film. Lee (Brokeback Mountain) focuses on the psychological underpinnings of the rage that fuels the green giant (daddy issues, which also plague his girlfriend Betty). Eric Bana is solid as Bruce Banner, as are the rest of the cast (Jennifer Connelly, Sam Elliot, Josh Lucas, and Nick Nolte) in their respective roles. Frederick Elmes (Blue Velvet) supplies the dark but nuanced cinematography. Lee reserves any comic-book flourishes for the inspired split-screen editing—simulating the layouts of Marvel's graphic novels—until... he nearly demolishes any critical good will with the third act and its cartoon histrionics. Flawed, with moments of greatness.
Kill Bill: Vol.1, dir. Quentin Tarantino - So there's this cinematic enfant terrible whose talent is fairly obvious despite what his detractors would have you believe. But while he's been out enjoying all of his accolades his output has been pretty thin. Six years after his last film, he comes with an exciting—if super-longish—samurai-western pastiche, and you think, I don't know when he'll do another one... Let's split this film into two and really get more bang for the buck. What could have been one lean, mean, epic film, is now two slightly bloated half-films. That's my problem with this Tarantino movie, but alas, 2003... not a great year. So this still rather entertaining film makes it on here for its clever genre-bending. And you'll definitely see Vol.2 on the next year's list because it is vastly superior to this first part.
Lost in Translation, dir. Sofia Coppola - Does it really matter what Bill Murray whispers into Scarlett Johansson's ear at the end of Sofia Coppola's love letter to Tokyo? Only in that it preserves the thin sliver of intimacy these two platonic soulmates share during the fleeting moments in which their travels intersect. Coppola (Marie Antoinette) perfectly captures the feeling of dislocation one feels as a stranger in a strange land, especially one as quirky as Tokyo, which—as portrayed here, at least—feels like a refracted Bizarro-version of the US at its most indulgent.
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, dir. Peter Weir - Weir (The Truman Show) gives us a humanistic take on war that, paradoxically, staunchly defends the concept of honor in battle. Russell Crowe is at his most charismatic as "Lucky Jack" Aubrey, captain of the HMS Surprise during the Napoleonic Wars. Just as in Patrick O'Brian's original novels, Weir gives plenty of time to the unique and insightful relationship between Aubrey and the ship's physician, Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany), unlikely friends that bond over their shared love of music. The soundtrack is thus a prominent character in the film, and deservedly so. If ever a film demanded a sequel, it is this one.
Open Range, dir. Kevin Costner - Another genre offering that captures the subtle nuances of male relationships, Open Range is an elegiac western that takes its time to unfold and a surprising return to form for the actor/director of Dances with Wolves. Costner's chemistry with costar Robert Duvall is one of the pleasures of watching this film. In fact, the introspective quality of their friendship permeates throughout the rest of the character interactions, aided greatly by the atypical cast of Annette Benning, Michael Gambon, Diego Luna, and Kim Coates (as the most menacing but shortest-lived gunslinger in Western cinema).
Swimming Pool, dir. François Ozon - Where did all the erotic thrillers go? Once a staple of nineties cinema, it has virtually disappeared outside of the softcore direct-to-video realm. But Ozon capitalizes on the history of the former sex symbol, Charlotte Rampling (here appearing quite matronly), pitting her against French kitten Ludivine Sagnier in a sexual power struggle of a sort. Questions of identity are raised as Rampling is by turns repulsed, attracted, and fascinated by the nubile Sagnier. And most refreshingly, age and experience seem to trump youth and potency in the end.
X2, dir. Bryan Singer - What? Two superhero movies in the same year? Well, as I said, it was that kind of year. But Singer gets points here for achieving what many comics fans long thought impossible—fashioning a tight action adventure starring a team of super-powered beings that is coherent, exciting, and thoughtful. Singer delivers on the potential of the earlier, flawed X-Men, by playing up his own strengths with ensemble casts (The Usual Suspects) while spotlighting the mysterious background of the team's loner, Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), and bringing the allegorical allusions to homophobia to the foreground. One can only hope the upcoming Avengers
film is anywhere near as good as this one, possibly the apex of its genre.
For more of this ongoing series, click here.
Happy New Year to all. Due to some childcare issues over the course of the holidays posts have been a little slower than usual, but they should be picking up some speed this month. Continuing my series of posts assessing the best films of the decade, today I spotlight my favorite films of 2003. This year was a particularly weak year for cinema in my opinion, so you might see some unusual entries. Some reminders: I cannot judge movies I haven't seen, so if you feel a film you like was unjustly left out, it might be that I never saw it; also, if I already wrote a review for it, I'll simply refer back to the original review. At the end of the month, I'll post my ten best for 2009. I will then follow up with my 10 best films of the past decade.
And now, in alphabetical order, the best films of 2003...
Dogville, director Lars von Trier - Nicole Kidman carries this movie in a performance I feel safe in calling brave. Here, she is put through the wringer by von Trier (Europa), who stages the story like a black box theater production, its set sparingly delineated with chalk and the bare minimum of props. The staging serves the dual purpose of detaching you emotionally from the harrowing treatment of Kidman's Grace and focuses your attention on the spectacular acting by the stellar ensemble cast: Lauren Bacall, Paul Bettany, Blair Brown, James Caan, Patricia Clarkson, Jeremy Davies, Ben Gazzara, Philip Baker Hall, Željko Ivanek, Chloe Sevigny, and Stellan Skarsgård. An indictment of America's small-town libertarians, it offended many at the time of its release but has only grown more relevant with the advent of Beck, Palin, the Tea-Partiers, and other populist movements that encourage ignorance and close-mindedness.
The Dreamers, dir. Bernardo Bertolucci - Review here.
Elephant, dir. Gus Van Sant - A disquieting look at a fictional school shooting inspired by the tragic events at Columbine in 1999. Van Sant (Milk) seems to stop time by keying in on several moments leading up to the shooting, playing and replaying them from different perspectives. What emerges is an empathetic look at the victims and the killers even while Van Sant manages to never excuse the murderers for their crime. While he implies that the teen killers' alienation from their schoolmates may have been a contributing cause, he also takes pains to emphasize that all the other teenagers suffer some form of alienation from one another, and they don't resort to the same act.
Hulk, dir. Ang Lee - This is the closest a movie gets to a superhero art film. Lee (Brokeback Mountain) focuses on the psychological underpinnings of the rage that fuels the green giant (daddy issues, which also plague his girlfriend Betty). Eric Bana is solid as Bruce Banner, as are the rest of the cast (Jennifer Connelly, Sam Elliot, Josh Lucas, and Nick Nolte) in their respective roles. Frederick Elmes (Blue Velvet) supplies the dark but nuanced cinematography. Lee reserves any comic-book flourishes for the inspired split-screen editing—simulating the layouts of Marvel's graphic novels—until... he nearly demolishes any critical good will with the third act and its cartoon histrionics. Flawed, with moments of greatness.
Kill Bill: Vol.1, dir. Quentin Tarantino - So there's this cinematic enfant terrible whose talent is fairly obvious despite what his detractors would have you believe. But while he's been out enjoying all of his accolades his output has been pretty thin. Six years after his last film, he comes with an exciting—if super-longish—samurai-western pastiche, and you think, I don't know when he'll do another one... Let's split this film into two and really get more bang for the buck. What could have been one lean, mean, epic film, is now two slightly bloated half-films. That's my problem with this Tarantino movie, but alas, 2003... not a great year. So this still rather entertaining film makes it on here for its clever genre-bending. And you'll definitely see Vol.2 on the next year's list because it is vastly superior to this first part.
Lost in Translation, dir. Sofia Coppola - Does it really matter what Bill Murray whispers into Scarlett Johansson's ear at the end of Sofia Coppola's love letter to Tokyo? Only in that it preserves the thin sliver of intimacy these two platonic soulmates share during the fleeting moments in which their travels intersect. Coppola (Marie Antoinette) perfectly captures the feeling of dislocation one feels as a stranger in a strange land, especially one as quirky as Tokyo, which—as portrayed here, at least—feels like a refracted Bizarro-version of the US at its most indulgent.
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, dir. Peter Weir - Weir (The Truman Show) gives us a humanistic take on war that, paradoxically, staunchly defends the concept of honor in battle. Russell Crowe is at his most charismatic as "Lucky Jack" Aubrey, captain of the HMS Surprise during the Napoleonic Wars. Just as in Patrick O'Brian's original novels, Weir gives plenty of time to the unique and insightful relationship between Aubrey and the ship's physician, Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany), unlikely friends that bond over their shared love of music. The soundtrack is thus a prominent character in the film, and deservedly so. If ever a film demanded a sequel, it is this one.
Open Range, dir. Kevin Costner - Another genre offering that captures the subtle nuances of male relationships, Open Range is an elegiac western that takes its time to unfold and a surprising return to form for the actor/director of Dances with Wolves. Costner's chemistry with costar Robert Duvall is one of the pleasures of watching this film. In fact, the introspective quality of their friendship permeates throughout the rest of the character interactions, aided greatly by the atypical cast of Annette Benning, Michael Gambon, Diego Luna, and Kim Coates (as the most menacing but shortest-lived gunslinger in Western cinema).
Swimming Pool, dir. François Ozon - Where did all the erotic thrillers go? Once a staple of nineties cinema, it has virtually disappeared outside of the softcore direct-to-video realm. But Ozon capitalizes on the history of the former sex symbol, Charlotte Rampling (here appearing quite matronly), pitting her against French kitten Ludivine Sagnier in a sexual power struggle of a sort. Questions of identity are raised as Rampling is by turns repulsed, attracted, and fascinated by the nubile Sagnier. And most refreshingly, age and experience seem to trump youth and potency in the end.
X2, dir. Bryan Singer - What? Two superhero movies in the same year? Well, as I said, it was that kind of year. But Singer gets points here for achieving what many comics fans long thought impossible—fashioning a tight action adventure starring a team of super-powered beings that is coherent, exciting, and thoughtful. Singer delivers on the potential of the earlier, flawed X-Men, by playing up his own strengths with ensemble casts (The Usual Suspects) while spotlighting the mysterious background of the team's loner, Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), and bringing the allegorical allusions to homophobia to the foreground. One can only hope the upcoming Avengers
film is anywhere near as good as this one, possibly the apex of its genre.For more of this ongoing series, click here.
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