Damn, I only have time to watch movies on weekends part 19: we're gonna need a bigger boat...

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  • 1. Night on Earth (1991)
  • Five taxicabs. Five cities. Five stories. Two comedic. One dramatic. Two that toe the line. Focus on conversations. Focus on characterizations. Focus on the ghostly isolation of the night. No rules. Los Angeles is thought-provoking enough, if a little hard to believe that this girl has been able to keep up her job as a cab driver for so long. New York mainly features Giancarlo Esposito being manic, which is hit-or-miss but produces some funny and endearing moments. Paris features two outcasts who have become rude and standoffish because of what they have endured as outsiders... and rather than bonding over this, they are rude and standoffish to each other. Rome is Roberto Benigni being silly, which has its moments but gradually becomes groanworthy. Helsinki is the straight drama, and it's somewhat affecting although not as affecting as it should be. In fact, most of this movie is not really as good as it ought to be. It's ultimately uneven and less than the sum of its parts, but it is still actually a rather good film.

  • 2. The Informant! (2009)
  • This movie is somewhat disconcerting. It casts a host of comic actors and creates a highly comic protagonist character, then puts them all in situations where they are allowed to be disturbing, sad, and strange, but rarely funny. It shows us early on that it is bubbling with Soderbergh's stylistic experiments in an attempt to make an incredibly mundane situation into wacky fun, and yet this style mainly just serves to highlight how bland and uninvolving the first half of the film is. True, it is perhaps necessary to drag us through some of this expositional set-up, and the second half does much more interesting and redeems the movie quite a bit. Still, while many of the elements are good, especially Matt Damon's pitch-perfect performance as he plays against type as a dumpy idiot, it never quite gels into a fully satisfying film. Although it is pretty good.

  • Let's play some quick catch-up...
  • 3. Homicide: Life on the Streets (1994-1995)
  • Though this season finds Homicide venturing into more conventionally-structured cop drama than in the past (The Last of the Watermen being the worst offender), this is still a brilliant show, filled with moments of ambiguity, moments of closure, intense drama, witty character development, and strong production values.

  • 4. Looney Tunes: Golden Collection, Volume 4 (1936-1966)
  • The cartoon obscurity level increases with each new set, here getting into some Tashlin oldies and some non-classic Bugs Bunny cartoons. I must confess to loving the shorts that pair Wile E. Coyote with the sly rabbit, so I was very happy to see two of those here. Rewatching the Speedy Gonzales cartoons proved that the much-maligned mouse's worst sin is being formulaic; even if you are appalled by the portrayal of Mexican mice as sombrero-wearing, fun-loving rascals in need of a hasty hero, this cannot be called racism because it's based on nationality, akin to the portrayal of those beret-wearing baguette-eaters in the Pepe le Pew cartoons. As for the extras, I feel like I'm hearing the same WB stories over and over in the documentary subjects, but the Private Snafu cartoons are bizarre treasures, especially the "Goldbrick" parody of Gilbert and Sullivan's "Tit Willow."

  • 5. Midnight (1939)
  • Not enough screwball to really be a screwball comedy, but this is a very fun romantic comedy that gets increasingly funny over the course of its running time, and a marvelous showcase for some terrific performers.

  • 6. Paris, Texas (1984) (watched again)
  • This brooding, meticulous film earns every device it uses to wring emotion out of the viewer, both through its majestic visuals and the sullen depth of its performances. Easily one of the best films of the eighties.

  • 7. The Office: Series 1 (UK) (2001)
  • A much crueler, more awkward Office than the US version, and one that features a barrage of UK pop culture references that totally left me in the dark. Of course, it's still watchable, and Ricky Gervais is always good for a laugh. Tim, on the other hand, is a miserably depressing character who lacks the charm of Jim Halpert.

  • 8. In the Mood for Love (2000) (watched again)
  • I don't think I got this film when I saw it for the first time (about seven years ago), and what with the buzz calling this one of the best of the decade and among the all-time greats, I figured I owed this another chance. I got more out of it but still felt like it did not blow me away, visually or emotionally. A pretty great film by a visionary director, but I prefer Chungking Express and 2046.

  • 9. Johnny Guitar (1954)
  • Nicholas Ray has a thing for this histrionic melodrama filled with truly bizarre subtexts. It doesn't work as well here as it does in Rebel Without a Cause, but there's something strangely entrancing about his films, over-the-top as they may be.

  • 10. Good Will Hunting (1997)
  • Matt Damon and Ben Affleck really made a splash with this well-written if totally Oscar-baiting drama. If these boys feel a little out of their element in the overly simplistic psychoanalysis scenes, the romance scenes are really well done, and the performances reflect a certain authenticity. It's manipulative, sure, but it manipulates with sincerity and heart.

  • 11. The Last Emperor (1987)
  • A pretentious Italian director makes a film about Chinese history set in China with an almost entirely Chinese cast, films it with all English dialogue to make the whole thing feel a bit disingenuous, and releases it during America's Cold War against communism. Of course, why wouldn't it sweep the Oscars? On the other hand, it is a truly epic film with some breathtaking cinematography, so really who knows?

  • 12. Undeclared: The Complete Series (2001-2002)
  • Maybe Judd Apatow works best when he can be R-rated, without hindered by the censorship limitations of network television, or maybe he (and/or his favorite actors) was still finding his groove early on, but I don't feel like this TV project has the consistency and quality of his film works. It's a perfectly watchable show, but it's not nearly as funny as it should be, and since it lacks the dramatic grounding of Freaks and Geeks, humor is really all it has to go on. At times it brilliantly subverts cliche plot devices (such as the Eric/Steven fight that just shows how pathetically inept most men are at actually duking it out); at other times it seems eager to wallow in college film conventions (such as the Samm Levine prank war). Its funniest moments come from its guest stars, especially Geddy Bednob and ESPECIALLY Jason Segel: the phone conversations with Eric were usually hysterical.

  • 13. Fury (1936)
  • This starts inconspicuously enough, but because it is a film directed and co-written by Fritz Lang, I sensed it might descend into madness, and I was right. The early character development is perfectly mirrored by the twisted turns that this film takes, and Lang handles it brilliantly. This is a darker side of Spencer Tracy than we usually get to see, and the film is all the better for it. Not really as acclaimed as M or Metropolis, but still a gripping masterpiece.

  • 14. Jezebel (1938)
  • Bette Davis is easily the best part of this melodrama, whose values were dated when it came out and are even more dated today. The redemptive ending seems out of place, and a black-and-white film should really know better than to hinge so much of its impact on a character wearing a shockingly red dress. Of course, any film that features Bette Davis and Henry Fonda can't be too horrible.

  • 15. A Serious Man (2009)
  • It is odd that this bizarre, darkly comic updating of the story of Job has been called the Coen brothers' most sincere work, but to be fair, they've set the bar pretty low. It is, at least, set in the time and place where they grew up, and it is easily one of the Jewiest movies I've ever seen, not just in the frequent references to the Hebrew language and Jewish spirituality, but also in its basic tone. So much of Judaism is based in interpretations of the Bible, offering no clear-cut answers and often serving up heaping plates of ambiguity, and that is what is so frustrating for our protagonist here. He is looking for a concrete set of morals, and just as he begins to realize that our world is not governed as such, even that is called into question. The Coens always dabble in this sort of frustrating ambiguity, so this film sort of feels like their statement of purpose, and as such, it's a fascinating film.

  • 16. In the Realm of the Senses (1976)
  • This is some fucked-up, repugnant shit. It's not for the faint of heart, but I'm generally hard to faze, and I actually found the sexually grotesque visuals pretty interesting in this disturbing depiction of a couple with an, er, unique relationships.

  • 17. Zombieland (2009)
  • Woody Harrelson is a force of nature in this thrilling zomedy, but he's really just one in an excellent cast. There is much to enjoy here; I particularly loved the "rules" motif and the secret cameo and found the film to be surprisingly heartfelt at times. On the other hand, the ending is very disappointing; the developments kind of undermine the entire course that the story has taken up to that point, and the climactic scenes fail to take advantage of all the opportunities that the setting presents. Still, this is a highly entertaining film.

  • 18. An Education (2009)
  • This actually made an interesting double feature with Zombieland because both films are essentially about finding fulfillment in unconventional ways. Although I guess that's what most movies are about. In any case, An Education is a perfectly fine, moderately believable film with some excellent performances and few flaws, and I guess that's all it takes to become one of ten Best Picture Oscar contenders these days. It doesn't really strive for brilliance, but there are a handful of memorable lines; no masterful scenes, but no bad ones either. There's not really anything wrong with it, and the fact that that passes for greatness kinda makes me sad. I recommend it, of course, because it is a good film. And the acting is pretty terrific.

  • 19. The Wire: Season 4 (2006)
  • It's difficult to review this show because watching it, I feel like I'm in the middle of a 60-hour-long movie. Maybe I'll come up with a review once I finish the whole series.

  • 20. The Men Who Stare at Goats (2009)
  • This has been mostly panned by critics who in my opinion were looking for a biting satire of the military and global politics, when the film really just wants to be a quirky farce. At least two of the jokes here seem like direct quotes from Far Side cartoons, and there's a surprisingly high reliance on slapstick, so that's the type of humor you're getting here. I think it was a good film, although it is a little dull.

  • 21. Shoot the Piano Player (1960) (watched again)
  • Having absolutely no memory of this film, I decided to watch it again. I can actually see why I hadn't remembered it, because it packs a highly intricate plot into a span of just 80 minutes, and the whole thing is handled with the subtle touches of a man who wants his film to leapfrog from genre to genre while seeming to transcend every one. It is by turns funny, tragic, hard-boiled, romantic, stylish, and bleak. If we're talking French New Wave, I think Breathless accomplished more with less, but Shoot the Piano Player is still a fantastic film.

  • 22. Mildred Pierce (1945)
  • Speaking of genre-blending, this film dabbles in both melodrama and film-noir and also seems to borrow a couple of screwball comedy characters (Eve Arden is a riot), crafting a sometimes-overlooked but truly excellent classic film. Michael Curtiz is rarely hailed as one of the great Hollywood directors, but he certainly did take on some ambitious projects and tended to direct them with pitch-perfect style. I think the framing narrative device doesn't make much sense, but that's my only complaint with this great movie.

  • 23. Intacto (2001)
  • A challenging, intelligent film based around an inventive concept in which luck is this supernatural force that can be transferred from one person to another. The movie is pretty cerebral and I feel like it kind of keeps the viewer at a distance, undermining its emotional impact, but it's still a very clever film.

  • 24. Paranormal Activity (2007)
  • Scary movies, like comedies, can often be more convincing with better audience reactions. A comedy will always generate more laughs in a crowded theater than by watching a DVD at home, and I think horror films work the same way: seeing other people react in terror makes everyone more terrified. Paranormal Activity knew this and wisely built itself into a sensation through its packed midnight screenings. Its trailer even relied more on the reactions of audience members than on the film itself: look, these people are scared shitless! So will you be! This is the scariest movie EVER! Once it became a self-generating hype machine, people barely even noticed the minimalism and utter lack of moviemaking tricks here: barely any effects, hardly any effort at making this look like a Hollywood movie, and not even any music! What sort of horror film doesn't have music to punctuate the tension? I mean, you basically have a tornado of hype covering up the fact that this movie is, for most of its running time, about a couple waiting to go to bed so a camera can pick up footage of... the door moving slightly. I can't tell if that's brilliant or moronic.

  • 25. Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire (2009)
  • This may seem like the epitome of black melodrama, a pastiche of every crappy thing that can happen to African-Americans in the eighties, but Precious has an ace up its sleeve: it's fucking great. Yeah, the trailer made it look bleak and overdramatic, but any film buff could tell you that a film that wins both the Sundance Jury Price AND Audience Award is worth a look. The writing is very skilled, and to say the acting is awards-caliber is a vast understatement. Lee Daniels directs with a "throw everything at the wall and see what sticks" philosophy, alternating between scenes of stark misery; scenes of misery directed in stylish ways; moments of levity; moments of lush fantasy; and moments of hope. Although this mentality leads to an artistic misstep here or there, Daniels's direction works far better than it should. It may have the worst title of 2009, but it is easily one of the better films of the year, at least so far.

  • 26. The Fifth Element (1997)
  • Stunning visuals and big, dumb fun, but starts to grow tiresome at the end.

  • 27. Howl's Moving Castle (2004)
  • Hayao Miyazaki rarely disappoints, and Howl's Moving Castle is no exception, dazzling with a wide array of charming characters and colorful images. My favorite of his is still Princess Mononoke, though.

  • 28. Girl Shy (1924)
  • It can't really touch Harold Lloyd's masterpiece Safety Last, but aside from that, this is one of his better films. The biggest laughs come from his book fantasies towards the beginning, but the film is amusing throughout, even in the climax which runs on a bit long for my taste.

  • 29. Capitalism: A Love Story (2009)
  • I feel like Michael Moore's films of this decade have alternated between exploring issues on an intellectual level and on an emotional level. Bowling for Columbine and Sicko opened my eyes to many interesting things I was unaware of, whereas Fahrenheit 9/11 and this film talked about stuff that everyone in the country was aware of, but work best when they put a human face on the tragedy. Capitalism's human stories really tug at the heartstrings, but it's also frustratingly noninformational, which is irritating because I think there are still a lot of things that people don't understand about the housing crisis and the way that the banks have ripped off America. Moore basically pulls a George W. Bush in the ways that he tries to seem dumber in order to relate to the common people. Instead of explaining derivatives to us in layman's terms, for example, he just goes, "Golly, derivatives shore are HARD! Hyuk!" His stunts are also wearing really, really thin for me. "Gee, GM doesn't wanna let me and my cameras in their building? Bank of America doesn't wanna let me in just so I can make a citizen's arrest? Hank Pauslon's office hangs up on me? Goshums, I'm just a simple man from Flint, Michigan! Why oh why wouldn't these moneymen in their fancy suits wanna tawk to me?" The problems with this film are exemplified by the section in which he goes on the warpath against companies who take out life insurance policies against their employees. Sure, it seems demeaning and regressive for companies to refer to that as "dead peasant insurance" but it makes logical sense and is perfectly legal. The fact that he harps on this point shows that the film is basically a call to arms in which he cares more about making the audiences angry than about making decent arguments about what happened or what can realistically be done about it (for the most part, anyway; I liked the sections about unconventionally-run companies). Moore should know the power of actual information for inciting the masses, and while he has made an affecting movie, he hasn't made a smart one.

  • 30. Dead Man Walking (1995)
  • This film has been lauded as a relatively even-handed take on the death penalty, especially for quintessential Hollywood liberals like Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon, and Sean Penn. I think they knew exactly what they were doing, though: they figured if you develop a character enough, his execution will feel tragic no matter how much of an asshole he is. Political or not, the film maneuvers the realistic character drama while avoiding cliche plot turns. The ending, of course, could not really be any more heavy-handed.
    Spoiler: Highlight to view
    Look! Death is all the same! When some guy kills innocents, it's the same thing as when the government kills the murderer! And that's the same as when Jesus's persecutors killed him! And it's all the same as how the filmmakers are beating the audience to death with their blunt symbolism! It works on so many levels!


  • 31. Juno (2007) (watched again)
  • There are some films that seem to have been crafted with an effort to make every scene a unique and memorable experience. Citizen Kane and Pulp Fiction spring to mind, and I dare say that Juno was made with that philosophy as well. I don't mean to say that Juno is on par with those two films quality-wise (which in my opinion are two of the top 10 greatest films ever made), but I do find it amazing how much of this cute, charming movie sticks with me. It somehow manages to be both stylized and totally realistic, because it knows better than any other film of recent years that close friends and family develop their own stylistic ways of interacting with each other. Sure, not every line rings true (Rainn Wilson's character utters the most egregious examples), but I think that is a small criticism for such a heartfelt film about a teenage girl forced to grow up beyond her ironic, self-referential hipster lifestyle for more reasons than one. I think I may have overrated this film a tad when I first saw it, but I still think it is among my favorite films of the decade.

  • 32. Synecdoche, New York (2008) (watched again)
  • ...as is this masterpiece. A second viewing has helped me wrap my mind around Synecdoche, but of course the film is so dense that I still feel like there are many stones left unturned. Some have compared this film to poetry, but it's really far too rough-edged, cerebral, darkly comic for such a comparison, isn't it? Others have criticized the film for being a convoluted, disjoint mess, but that's also kind of the point. It's a film about a man driven to gluttonous theatrical development by his hubristic desire to make a play about truth, only to find that truth is too complicated to keep to only one person's story. So he expands and expands, looking for ways to include everyone, only to somehow arrive at universal truths of human existence. Of course, along the way, he usually seems more wrapped up in his own romances, just as all of us get distracted by our focus on close personal connections even when we're thinking about big-picture projects. The thing is, Charlie Kaufman is in turn making a movie with the same goals as Caden Cotard, and he's made a movie that captures life in his own personal way. And life, as we know, is not a narrative; it's a big disjoint mess. If the film wasn't convoluted, if it were easy to grasp, the movie would be terrible. As it is, it's a sprawling, brilliant film.

  • 33. The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
  • The special effects were probably innovative at the time; now they're laughably dated, but that seems almost appropriate for a film like this, which probably would never get made these days due to charges of racism, but back in 1940 just looked like cheerful fun. The movie is bright and incredibly entertaining, with less depth than some of Powell's other work, but I recommend you just sit back and enjoy the ride.

  • 34. Battlestar Galactica: Season 3 (2006-2007)
  • Probably the worst season so far, as a lot of episodes really drag. Still a great show though, and what a cliffhanger to end on!

  • 35. Changeling (2008)
  • I think my main problem with this film is it can't really decide if it wants to be about political activism or a woman's personal struggle with losing her child. Despite the sepia tones of the gorgeously colored cinematography, the narrative here is completely black-and-white, with only heroes and villains and not really any depth. That works to heighten the tension for Christine Collins's personal story, but it makes the ostensible historical/political side of the film fall very flat. Add to all this a terribly cliche ending, and what you have here is a mixed bag: a film that turns up the heat on one defenseless woman but feels incredibly manipulative in the process. Changeling may still not be nearly as hokey as Gran Torino, but it's a far cry from the moral ambiguity of Million Dollar Baby.

  • 36. Hotel Rwanda (2004)
  • I've put off writing this review because while I liked this film, it sort of left me without anything real to say about it. It is very good. I don't think it's a masterpiece, but I don't know why. I feel that it has interesting things to say about moral relativism, but I feel that that gets pushed into the background in favor of a story that is essentially about a man trying to keep his family and friends alive and well. It has many clever and emotional scenes, and if it doesn't amount to enough to be a mind-blowing film, it is certainly one that is quite good.

  • 37. Infernal Affairs (2002)
  • Sometimes I am bored when I watch alternate versions of films I love, but I think that I was able to enjoy this film just as I enjoyed The Departed, albeit in different ways. While I heard a couple friends lament that The Departed was so similar to this film as to be a rip-off, I think we actually see two different takes on this story in the two works. While Infernal Affairs sparkles with flashy editing and visual panache, The Departed tones down the tricks in favor of better character development and more backstory. I dare say I preferred The Departed; Infernal Affairs's style and intense score occasionally infused the story with a sense of cheesy melodrama that did it a disservice, in my opinion. However, it is still a gripping take on the cop movie, a terrific film overall, and one that contains many awesome scenes and shots.

  • 38. The Pianist (2002)
  • Roman Polanski pulls off sleight-of-hand about midway through this movie, in a decision that seems rather odd. If you were attempting to keep track of the characters and story in the first half's family drama, no matter: they're not important anymore. We reduce Holocaust survival to its most basic elements. Just a man struggling to survive, witnessing meticulously directed unspeakable horrors all around him. It might as well have been a silent movie. Most great Holocaust films feature no small share of unspeakable horrors, but they keep an ongoing narrative intact. Here, however, we get a sense of how disruptive the Holocaust was, how much it made you value your life and little else. That's an interesting theme, but with only the visceral elements to hook the viewer's interest, things wear a little thin, growing a bit repetitive, and perhaps we wonder if much of the first half was all that important to the film as well. Still, a very good, often heart-wrenching film.

  • 39. Battlestar Galactica: Razor (2007) (TV-movie)
  • Provides some interesting backstory to the series. And a lot of really boring backstory. Overall it felt more like a tedious diversion than an important part of Battlestar's universe.

  • 40. Eraserhead (1977) (watched again)
  • I read some of David Lynch's comments on this film before rewatching it, and when I did, I actually wondered whether this notoriously impenetrable film is an uber-industrial take on the Adam and Eve story. I imagine the main characters' horrific existence as starting immediately after Adam and Eve are banished from the paradise of Eden, their lives burdened by both their murderous child and the snake that got them kicked out in the first place. Both of those burdens come together in one wretched reptilian baby who makes their lives a living hell, leaving Henry to dream of Heaven, where everything is fine. Granted, that brief interpretation still leaves plenty of things unexplained, and it still works better on an abstract level than on any explainable plane that I know of, but what do you think?

  • 41. Mon Oncle (1958)
  • Not long ago, I called Borders to ask if they had a DVD in stock. The woman told me to hold on one moment. I then heard her say in a loud whisper, "Hey... which one is the hold button?"
  • A man responded "What?"
  • She frantically cried, "Come over here, quick quick quick quick quick!"
  • "It's the red one!" said the man.
  • "Oh, you mean this one - "
  • The phone abruptly cut to muzak.
  • I tell you this story because it is mildly amusing. It is one of many mildly amusing things that happens to me in my life. And yet I never felt the desire to assemble these almost-laughable moments into a feature film. Because if I did, I would be Jacques Tati, creating physical comedy without any real sense of timing or punchlines so that you look at it and think, "Oh, that's kinda cute, and sorta chuckle-worthy. I wonder what else is on TV." Tati is so amused with the quirks and the structure of life that he makes good-natured films, but not, IMHO, satisfying ones.

  • 42. The Lovely Bones (2009)
  • I hate when I have to review a film like this, one that's artistically inventive and emotionally powerful but which also has a good number of things wrong with it. Interestingly, I felt the same way about the last Saiorse Ronan film I saw, Atonement. The Lovely Bones is visually mind-blowing, full of stunningly gorgeous images. Yes, they look very much like CGI, but that is the point, as Peter Jackson is crafting an In-Between world that is supposed to look flawless and majestic, while not too far removed from earthly structures and landscapes. There are times, unfortunately, where Jackson's visual gallivanting looks too much like computer desktop wallpaper. Saiorse Ronan and Stanley Tucci both give brilliant performances that ought to be rewarded with Oscar nominations if not wins, but the rest of the cast is hit-or-miss. Mark Wahlberg disappointed me; he is too lifeless and stone-faced to sell his role as the caring father, especially in his bottle-smashing scene (which was a cliche scene to begin with, although the In-Between world side of the scene is terrific). Rachel Weisz also seemed miscast; some of the characters seem like they were far more important in the book; and Susan Sarandon is the strangest one of all. She comes on for a few scenes, hams it up, adds some out-of-place comedy to a film that didn't need it, and then vanishes, becoming irrelevant for the rest of the film. Despite its flaws, the film manages to be both beautiful and devastating, but it could have been reworked to be a real masterpiece.

  • 43. Cleo From 5 to 7 (1962)
  • A charming, feminine take on the French New Wave. I was expecting something dire and dramatic, but what I got was an interesting look at a short but anxious span of a woman's life, like Jeanne Dielman if Jeanne actually interacted with other people instead of just doing chores. Pleasant, sweet, and affecting.

  • 44. Up in the Air (2009)
  • This film is about 80% delightful indie comedy, followed by 20% major Oscar contender. It's a great film throughout, but the ending really seals the deal. You can pinpoint the exact moment where the story decides which direction it wants to take. And so an Oscar heavyweight is born, but perhaps the hype surrounding the film is great enough to distract audiences from the nuances of the film itself, which is unfortunate. This is a cleverly written, expertly acted film full of interesting details. The film was basically written for these actors, and nowhere is this more evident than George Clooney. Clooney takes his usual suave, polyamorous persona and adds grace and heart to him like never before. It's the perfect centerpiece for a film about an expert at making emotional connections with the people he fires who cannot seem to do so with the real people in his life.

  • 45. The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (2005)
  • A man slowly dies in stark realism. We see him go from his apartment to his neighbor's apartment to hospital after hospital. Some of these people seem uncaring and borderline sadistic (this is the point of the movie); others just seem to be doing their jobs. The film is boring, endless, and off-putting. Since I loved 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days, I would say that Romanian cinema is batting a .500 average for me.

  • 46. Monsters, Inc. (2001)
  • Billy Crystal hams it up, the animators create some breathtaking visual worlds, the script combines a number of clever concepts into a truly unique story, and it all adds up to one of Pixar's most unadulterated-fun films. A number of terrific setpieces stand out in my mind, particularly the door depot and the scene in which Sulley fights with an invisible nemesis. This is the only Pixar film I didn't see in theaters, and I'm not quite sure why, but I'm glad I caught up with it, because it is quite an entertaining romp.

  • 47. Touch of Evil (1958) (watched again)
  • In rewatching this film, I of course vividly remembered the iconic opening shot, but I had forgotten how funny this movie is. Take a gander, all, because this is probably the most acclaimed movie that is acclaimed in large part due to how ridiculous it is. The acting is hammy, the story is trashy, and Orson Welles adds a deeper layer to pulp fiction decades before Tarantino did it. It's a wonder this actually works, but Welles knew the genre well enough to make every shot ooze with shadowy noir goodness. The characters and dialogue are for the most part preposterous caricatures, and yet Welles gets us to ponder their complexities and relate to their foibles. Even though the rewatch has opened my eyes to the innate over-the-top-ness of it all, I still found Charlton Heston's terrible performance more distracting than involving, but that's probably mea culpa.

  • 48. The Big Lebowski (1998) (watched again)
  • Speaking of films with absurd, hilarious takes on the film-noir genre, we now come to exhibit B: The Big Lebowski. The Coen Brothers really delve into the farthest reaches of their absurd imaginations here, and it's surprising how much of it actually works. The characters in particular are some of the Coens' most distinctive and well-crafted, from Jeff Bridges's burnout hippie trapped in a neo-noir detective story, to John Goodman's tour-de-force veteran still preaching a 'Nam mindset, to Julianne Moore's self-important feminist, to even something as simple as Jesse Flanagan's deadpan Larry Sellers. In fact, we even get to see some emotional depth in these characters towards the end as well. No, not all of this works, and the Coens did a better job of reinventing the film-noir in Miller's Crossing, but I'm starting to think that this is among their best films.

  • 49. Invictus (2009)
  • After taking some risks last year and creating two pretty flawed films, Clint Eastwood plays it safe this time around and creates... a pretty flawed film. Sorry Clint, but if it's any consolation, audiences will probably like Invictus because it goes down smooth. It takes the complexities of South Africa's struggle to recover from apartheid and turns it into a predictable sports drama. Aside from the final championship game (which goes on far too long and feels like a terribly inappropriate climax), the film has little dramatic weight, and it scrubs away any flaws or complexities that Nelson Mandela and Francois Pienaar might have in order to create the cute, cuddly versions of these men. We don't see the conflicted, troubled Morgan Freeman of Shawshank Redemption or Million Dollar Baby here; we only see the wise old man, with hardly any of the depth that Mandela's characterization could have. Despite all these complaints, I think Invictus is a good film, although just barely. Freeman and Matt Damon certainly disappear into their roles, playing these men utterly convincingly, and as a conventionally structured, feelgood biopic/sports movie, it is well made. Like many biopics, there are a good number of interesting individual scenes, the best being the tour of the prison (although even that felt out of place, as if it were a scene randomly stolen from a more interesting movie). Ultimately, though, I think Eastwood needs to slow things down a bit. Five movies in the past three and a half years is an impressive quantity, but maybe it would be better to make sure he's making the best movies he can make.

  • 50. The Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)
  • It's been an impressive year for animated film, and I think this might actually be my favorite so far (I haven't seen The Princess and the Frog yet, nor Mary and Max). Aside from The Royal Tenenbaums, I'm actually not usually a fan of Wes Anderson, as he often inserts too much ironic distance between the audience and his characters, so it's interesting to see that these wild animals are actually among his most human creations. George Clooney, it turns out, is just as charming when you can't even see his face, and he and the big stars share the screen with some no-name actors who are just as impressive (like Meryl Streep, who the hell has heard of her?). It may be too quirky for the kids, both due to the idiosyncratic dialogue and the slower frame rate, but in my eyes, this is a pretty cussin' impressive movie.

  • 51. A Single Man (2009)
  • The negative critical reception to this film has been strange; some critics almost seems to resent the film for looking visually arresting, as if gorgeous cinematography were just a gimmick to distract the audience from what's really important. However, I think the rich visual textures are a highly effective way to add to the strained melancholy of A Single Man. Because this is mainly about a mourning professor going about his day, there's not really too much narrative here, and though the thin story will put off some viewers, the direction keeps things interesting when not much else is going on. I don't fault Tom Ford for his attractive visuals... but I do fault him for casting Nicholas Hoult as Kenny. Though Hoult certainly looks the part, his performance is easily the weakest part of the film, and the whole story would be far more effective with someone with better acting chops. Speaking of better acting chops, though, I should talk about how Colin Firth nails this part. Firth has always struck me as an actor with inner sadness in his eyes, and he harnesses that effect here to play a very complex, sympathetic character. Firth is extremely impressive, but unfortunately, the film's ending stinks.
    Spoiler: Highlight to view
    I generally hate endings where the main character dies for no story-driven reason, and if that ending comes about for the purposes of some obnoxiously self-indulgent irony, all the worse.


  • 52. Me and Orson Welles (2008)
  • Zac Efron makes for a surprisingly effective lead, Christian McKay plays Orson Welles with accuracy and charisma, and Claire Danes is, well, Claire Danes. The great Richard Linklater takes these people and brings their stories to life in a clever tale fully evocative of the artistic scene in the 1930s. Welles was sometimes a figure of pathos, sometimes an arrogant scoundrel, and always a genius, and the film captures that trichotomy perfectly here, all through the eyes of Efron's up-and-comer. It's not the most original film Linklater has done, but it's certainly a well-made, entertaining yarn.

  • 53. Le Jour Se Lève (1939)
  • A classic French romantic-thriller that is quite good but not particularly memorable.

  • 54. Stop Making Sense (1984)
  • We start with one man and a guitar, and over the course of the film, it slowly develops into a multi-platformed set complete with a full band, backup singers, costumes, and screen projections. Every song has a different style to it, both due to the varied lighting and to the different ways that the limber, dynamic, possibly coked-up David Byrne moves his body. All of it amounts to a movie that is less a concert film than a performance piece, a bizarrely original work of art. There is much talk of what the film doesn't do: show audience shots, use fast cutting, etc. The decision to avoid those tricks is effective, but not in and of itself; the tricks would just distract from the absurd madness onstage.

  • 55. The Messenger (2009)
  • This would make an interesting double feature with Up in the Air. Both are about one seasoned veteran and one newbie who are tasked to travel around and deliver crushingly bad news to unsuspecting innocents. I suppose that basic idea is a good means to capture devastating raw emotion both for the victims and for the messengers, and The Messenger explores this theme very well. It could have been a sappy film, but it's surprisingly brooding and subdued for the most part, and the subtleties of the terrific performances probably tell us more than melodrama would have. Sure, there are some explosive moments, but the film earns them. Also, you probably noticed that four actors are credited all over the place, but did you know Steve Buscemi is in this movie too? Yeah. He's great. If the film has a flaw, it's that I felt that the Samantha Morton subplot is poorly placed. She disappears for a long stretch of time, dulling the impact of her reappearance. Overall, though, I think this one of the better films of the year.

  • 56. Bloody Sunday (2002)
  • Paul Greengrass's stark documentary style found much acclaim when he came out with United 93, but things were just as bleakly realistic in this depiction of the events of the Bogside Massacre. The last act is chaotic and tragic, filmmaking that manages to be truly heart-wrenching without overtly tugging at the heartstrings whatsoever. Unfortunately, it's a slow starter, and I felt like the rough-and-tumble direction doesn't really keep things interesting enough early on. It might be my fault though, as stark realism is often hit-or-miss for me, judging by my Lazarescu review.

  • 57. Dracula (1931)
  • You know the story, you know the iconic imagery, and you are probably familiar with the quirks of Bela Lugosi's performance. Some stories are so widely imitated that it's impossible to see the films for what they once were. This is particularly true of the early sound films, which often hadn't worked out the kinks of the new medium and today come across as awkwardly put-together. I found Dracula to be interesting enough, but too dated to have the impact that the filmmakers had originally intended. Certainly worth a watch for film buffs though.

  • 58. Into the Wild (2007)
  • I feel that we are naturally drawn to stories about people who buck all expectations and seek out an unconventional lifestyle of adventure. Many films have tried to capture and delve into the schema of traits and backstory that cause one to throw up one's hands to social norms, and few have done so better than Into the Wild. Of course, Into the Wild is also a harsh reminder of the toll that adventure can take on both the adventurer and his loved ones, with the shocking death of McCandless/Supertramp being a slap in the face to that exploratory spirit. As such, it's a complex film, bolstered by truly captivating filmmaking and terrific performances from an exceptional ensemble cast. Yeah, Into the Wild may have been stiffed for a lot of Oscar nominations it deserved, and to this day I can't imagine why, but it will have to settle for being one of the better films of 2007 instead of one of the most accoladed.

  • 59. The Last Picture Show (1971) (watched again)
  • Peter Bogdanovich loves making these "nostalgia pictures" that yearn for an earlier time both historically and cinematically, but rarely is the nostalgia as dark-sided as it is here. Watching this film again, what struck me was how sexual it is and how none of the characters are totally sympathetic, as if Bogdanovich wanted to take a classic film and infuse it with all the sex and amorality that the Hays Code always prohibited. And yet the wistful melancholy of the film is still very sweet in many ways; although some moments here are a bit nasty, there are also quite a few scenes that will break your heart. It's as if the cherished concept of nostalgia is the only thing keeping us from remembering the darkness of our past as well as the true pains of all that we've lost. However you look at it, this is a brilliant film.

  • 60. Trouble in Paradise (1932) (watched again)
  • This is a fantastic film by one of the great comedy directors, Ernst Lubitsch. Lubitsch was known for his skill at implying all the scandalous things that you couldn't show in movies in the thirties, and here he certainly must have pushed the limits for what a 1932-era audience was accustomed to seeing at the cinema. There's much to love here aside from the naughty bits, though; since much of the film explores the ways that thieves would fall in love, the script plays with that idea in a multitude of extremely clever ways. Often overlooked, this screwball comedy is decidedly top-notch.

  • 61. Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (2009)
  • This movie is very, very strange, but probably the strangest thing of all is how it even got made in the first place. It is beyond me why Werner Herzog, a German director who tends towards stories about man versus nature, wanted to remake a forgettable 1992 English-language Harvey Keitel vehicle directed by Abel Ferrara. I will admit that the casting of Nicolas Cage as the zonked-out title role is inspired, and he nails the film's twisted sense of humor, which I am assuming (hoping?) was intentional. Anyway, I can't say that this film impressed me as much as some folks, but it is an entertaining, offbeat cop drama that is well worth a watch.

  • 62. Inland Empire (2006)
  • Man, leave it to David Lynch to follow up the mindfuck masterpiece Mulholland Drive with a film that makes Mulholland look simple and straightforward. Inland Empire is almost like a horror film without the horrors. It left me chilled, unsettled, and (sometimes) terrified while rarely portraying anything that looked like a conventional threat. Unlike Mulholland or Eraserhead which stuck with a handful of powerful motifs, Inland Empire does sometimes get too random and convoluted for its own good, and I think it is a bit too long. Lynch also seems to be obsessed with the way that the Hollywood machine chews up young actresses and spits them out, so that theme is on full display here, yet it feels like he's communicated this better in other works. I was amazed how much of this actually does work, however, and although a narrative is difficult to pin down, there is definitely an arc of sorts here, even if it is communicated more viscerally than anything else. I do like the theory that the crying woman watching the TV set is the Polish actress from the doomed original version of the film, and only Laura Dern can save her from her fate. Beyond that, don't look to me for interpretations; all I can do is talk about how much this film messed with my emotions.

  • 63. Dog Day Afternoon (1975) (watched again)
  • I was a younger man when I watched this film and I don't think I really got the black comedy on display here until this second viewing. It's funny and also kinda sad to see two men who are prepared, but not ready, to rob a bank. They're fidgety and nervous, they sympathize with the hostages, and they waste plenty of time until, naturally, the cops show up. Sonny Wortzik may have the inside scoop from having worked as a teller before, but he was never meant to hold up a bank. It's a dark character study as well as a social satire of media circuses, in which almost everyone seems to sympathize with the criminals. Sure, 70s Hollywood cinema produced plenty of sympathy for the rebellious antihero, but few are quite as bizarrely compelling as Sonny Wortzik.

  • 64. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007) (watched again)
  • Speaking of Sidney Lumet-directed heist-gone-wrong films... Although this film has been criticized for just compounding layer after layer of depressing tragedy, I actually find the storytelling and performances so terrific that it actually gives me great delight to watch the movie. Sure, there's not a wholly sympathetic character in the bunch, but there's not a wholly evil one here either, just like any other dysfunctional family taken to its extremes. So many individual scenes and images stick in my head: Philip Seymour Hoffman leaning over the table at the bar; the bowl of rocks; the drug dealer's robe; the conversation at the funeral; and of course, the smokin' hot Marisa Tomei. I think I may have been too enamored of this film on my first viewing, as I'm no longer sure it's better than There Will Be Blood, but this is still an incredibly impressive work in my eyes.

  • 65. Reservoir Dogs (1992) (watched again)
  • Now for the third in my series of heist-gone-wrong rewatches... It has always surprised me that people peg Quentin Tarantino as a director who's obsessed with violence, as I think what's more distinctive about his films is the obsession with, well, talking. Seventeen years before Tarantino could open an action-packed war epic with a twenty-minute, methodical, bizarre, slow-burning, character-developing dialogue scene, he was just a director with his eccentricities waiting in the wings. They made appearances in the opening sequence and the lengthy conversations when we get to the warehouse, but this is still probably QT's least oddball film, so we're lucky it's still a masterpiece. With a more subtle style here than in Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill, Tarantino wisely placed more focus on the dramatic tension inherent in the script and acting, with the walls closing in on the characters just as we're finally getting to know them better. It's an ingenious movie, one that placed Tarantino in the national spotlight and holds up just as well today.

  • 66. Capturing the Friedmans (2003)
  • This is a documentary about a family, two of whose members are accusing of sexual molestation of minors. Though this is non-fictional, it plays out like one of the great mysteries, with the details slowly unfurling over the course of the film as if we the audience were investigators. We clarify ambiguous situations, sometimes to find some truth about this dysfunctional family, but oftentimes to find more ambiguity. I can think of few documentaries that feel more like narratives than this film, so perhaps someone heard the story, wanted to make a film about it, and felt the tale of familial melodrama couldn't possibly be improved through fictionalization. They were right.

  • 67. Monsieur Verdoux (1947)
  • A dark comedy-drama from Charlie Chaplin's later years, this episodic film is mostly entertaining but lacks a coherent story arc to hold everything together. There are many interesting moments and great scenes, but it doesn't feel like it adds up to a whole lot. Personally I was most fascinated by the precious few glimpses we get of Chaplin's physical comedy. There are a few subtle moments that remind us of what a slapstick genius he is, but it's as if he's gotten too old or the world has gotten too cynical to keep it up for too long. Anyway, this film is sometimes praised as highly as his silent greats, which is just plain wrong, but it's an okay film.

  • 68. The Princess and the Frog (2009)
  • In one of the most consistently strong years for animated film, we see Disney returning to its classic hand-drawn animation, and to great success. There has been much talk of Tiana as Disney's first black princess, and there has been much talk of Disney's black princess spending most of the film as a frog, but if the idea is to honor at least a subsection of African-American folkways, the film certainly delves into in a rich tradition of Creole-isms. It does for New Orleans what Aladdin did for Arabia: take the kid-friendly and mystical elements of a culture, whitewash them a bit, and present them as an enthrallingly enjoyable backdrop for a Disney love story. So this isn't really anything new for Disney, but here it works better than it has in a while. The lyrics are often hit-or-miss with Disney songs, but the music has so much life in it and the visuals have so much creativity that I just let the film take me on its ride.

  • 69. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) (watched again)
  • Luis Bunuel started his career as a pure surrealist and eventually started making bizarre films that skewered the upper classes. This is probably the most effective of the latter category, an odd, colorful movie in which three rich couples make plans to get together for a social event, but their plans are constantly thwarted, often by things that represent the dark side of the bourgeoisie. I prefer to think, though, that their plans are mostly ruined by their own obsessive self-centeredness. When one couple is a little late coming downstairs, for example, one man assumes the cops are arriving to arrest them, and they flee. My favorite example of this mind-boggling self-obsession though is the scene in which a soldier tells the three women a fantastical, dramatic story about his childhood, and their reaction is to complain about how the restaurant is out of tea. Well, in any case, I don't mean to deflate the film into its basic messages by overanalyzing it; the film is not simply a mocking of the wealthy, but also a richly absurd, brilliantly entertaining, eminently watchable movie.

  • 70. Raise the Red Lantern (1991)
  • Alternate title: Mean Concubines, starring Lindsay Lohan.
  • In 1920s China, the best a woman could do for herself was to marry rich, and hence, the beautiful Gong Li is encouraged to become Fourth Mistress to a wealthy man whose household is dominated by a specific set of customs. Because the women are rewarded for attracting the Master's attention, they know they are in passive-aggressive competition with each other. I had no idea a 1920s Chinese complex was so similar to the average sorority. In fact, wait, is there actually a scene of a concubine getting drunk and spilling some gossip that she shouldn't have told anyone about? Nevermind. The quirks of the culture portrayed here are fascinating yet oddly relatable, and parts of the film are truly heartbreaking. Because this is Zhang Yimou, the visuals are a wonder to behold, yet they are somewhat more (appropriately) muted when we see the complex, perhaps because this isn't a bright place full of life, but a stifling environment that starts to look more and more like a prison as the film goes on. The elements come together to create an excellent film, simple in many ways yet revealing many layers of depth for those who wish to explore it.

  • 71. Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959) (watched again)
  • "You're destroying me. You're good for me," she says, perhaps because while Hiroshima was an undeniable tragedy, the recovery from the war allowed Japan to leave its past behind and modernize like never before. The film is about the collective consciousness bestowed on a war-torn nation and the way that it defines its citizens while simultaneously robbing them of their individual identities. These lovers have no names, only cities of origin. Alain Resnais explores the horrors of war and tells romances through fractured memories in other films, but here he combines these themes into a complex masterpiece; after all, in the face of such disaster, who could help but think of the nightmarish images burned into one's brain, and who could help but alter one's recollection in an attempt to make sense of it all? The film opens with a sequence that proves right away that its poetic language is topped by few other works of cinema. It goes on to be devastating and gorgeous and devastatingly gorgeous and gorgeously devastating. If all this sounds a bit pretentious, it might be, but its resonant emotional core strikes at the heart like few other films do. This is easily among the greatest films ever made.

  • 72. A Face in the Crowd (1957)
  • This film isn't usually discussed as one of the all-time classics, perhaps because of Elia Kazan's controversial reputation, but I personally loved watching Andy Griffith tear up the stage. He's a force of nature here, a fun-loving Southerner who happens to be in the right place at the right time, becomes a media sensation, and then starts to use his presumed authenticity to win the hearts of millions while simultaneously being seduced by the avarice of powerful institutions. Of course, none of this could ever happen today. It's a dark satire of celebrity and the media with some inspired comic moments; the hilariously bizarre yet totally grounded Vitajex montage might be the best montage I've ever seen. Importantly, along with all this satire, the film's melancholy romantic subplots add some real emotional depth, and Walter Matthau is particularly heartbreaking. A brilliantly dark film by turns comedic and dramatic, A Face in the Crowd is an underrated classic.

  • 73. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) (watched again)
  • The first time I saw this film, I loved the main Jim Carrey/Kate Winslet plot but felt that some of the subplots took away from my enjoyment of the film. On this rewatch, it fared much better, and I may be ready to praise this as the tour de force that it is. I think if Kirsten Dunst's plotline felt aimless the first time, it feels much stronger now that I know that it goes somewhere. More importantly, I was reminded of the visual creativity displayed by the film which is experimental yet totally accessible; the dialogue that is so well-written it sticks in your head for years; and the realistic take on modern romance, which may have worked even better for me this time around since I've now had real experience in that department instead of just silly high school relationships. Yep, I underrated this the first time I watched; it is much, much more than just a good film.

  • 74. Casablanca (1942) (watched again)
  • And speaking of romantic masterpieces, here we have Exhibit A. It is difficult to review Casablanca because it is brilliant for reasons that are near impossible to qualify. It's not the most innovative or the most realistic or the most emotional film ever made, but it's the kind of film where everything comes together so perfectly that it all just works, and works so damn well that most of its elements have become icons of American culture. This is one of the most iconic films ever made, perhaps second only to The Wizard of Oz. Of course, strip back all that cultural influence and you still have a just plain terrific film: one filled with romance, intrigue, action, and humor, and some of the most watchable film legends in history.

  • 75. Nine (2009)
  • Let me get this out of the way first: why do all modern musical movies feel the need to have every song interrupt everything to transport us to some stagy fantasy setting? Do filmmakers think we're too dumb to accept a musical that hasn't organized its scenes into reality vs. musical dream sequence categories? This technique has become incredibly overused, and it's a fatal flaw for Nine, which is a collection of some great moments that fails to gel into a coherent film. The superlative cast is hit-or-miss, with the usually great Daniel Day-Lewis spending a bit too much time being superficially brooding. Of the women, Marion Cotillard and Penelope Cruz are attracting the most awards attention, and rightfully so, although that is unsurprising; more surprising is how impressive Fergie is. On the other hand, the laugh-inducing "Cinema Italiano" number was so clearly newly written for the film and awkwardly shoehorned into it, as it sounds absolutely nothing like anything else in Nine and everything like a modern pop song. Other songs in the soundtrack are better, but some are purely forgettable. Sure, there are a number of wonderful moments in this film, but in the end, the sad truth is that Nine was never really a great musical in the first place, and you might think that this phenomenal cast could save the adaptation, but you would be wrong.

  • 76. When Harry Met Sally (1989) (watched again)
  • It's an extremely rare romantic comedy that nails both the male and female perspective, making both man and woman charming and relatable to audiences. This is that rare film. Sure, it may look like a run-of-the-mill chick flick to the untrained eye, but few romantic comedies do as many things right as When Harry Met Sally, and hardly any of them do as few things wrong, as the story is totally character-driven, avoiding all the conventions and contrivances that plague so many others. This is the third or fourth time I watched this film, and even on this rewatch, I picked up on some character nuances I hadn't noticed in the past; never before had I noticed the ambiguity in the first time that Sally asks Harry to go to dinner with her. Is she asking him on a date at this early stage? He's the one who assumes it's a friendship request. Anyway, I have two more comments to pick apart this entertaining film, but they'll need spoiler tags:
    Spoiler: Highlight to view
    (1) I love the sardonic answering machine message Harry leaves Sally when he's trying to get her to talk to him. Even at this dramatic stage of the arc, he is still true to himself. (2) I love the fact that Harry and Sally don't kiss at midnight in the last scene, but that "Happy New Year!" is chanted in the background and ignored. The midnight kiss would have been a cliche; the argument continuing in spite of the new year is far more realistic.


  • 77. Sherlock Holmes (2009)
  • It seems that we are on a trend of scrubbing the uniquely stylistic elements out of our iconic franchise heroes and turning them all into run-of-the-mill, intensely serious action stars. It happened to James Bond with mixed success, and now Sherlock Holmes has forsaken his pipe and hat to become a bare-knuckle fighter. I am opposed to this trend on principle, so I really wanted to hate this film, but I liked Casino Royale, and similarly, I was able to accept the new Sherlock Holmes and find this to be an entertaining enough romp. The story is preposterous, of course, and much of the basis for Sherlock's deduction is decidedly lame, but the acting is strong enough and the dialogue witty enough for me to find things to enjoy here. Guy Ritchie reminds us that he still has decent directing chops; he knows how to move a camera, although some of the CGI of old-timey machinery is pretty fake looking. 2009 was a great year for good movies but a terrible year for masterful ones, so add this on to the pile of films from last year that are tough to hate but also tough to love.

  • 78. Do the Right Thing (1989) (watched again)
  • A terrific slice-of-life comedy-drama with racial tensions bubbling in every scene, Do the Right Thing is Spike Lee’s masterpiece. I still prefer to think of this as a film of character foibles and ambiguous moral questions rather than the clear-cut morality play that some want to make it out to be, but regardless of others’ interpretations, I love this movie. The episodic nature that sinks some other movies works wonders here, perhaps because everything is thematically and stylistically linked, and creates a cross-section of the neighborhood that is both hilarious and interesting in its own right but also provides a well-developed backdrop for the more cataclysmic scenes. Easily one of the best films of the eighties.

  • 79. Where the Wild Things Are (2009)
  • I always like to see a film that understands the true angst and loneliness of childhood, that it’s not all innocence and frolicking. If it can be rendered by the terrific Spike Jonze with music by Karen O in what is, despite its unjust disqualification from Oscar consideration, easily the standout score of the year, all the better. I wish this added up to a better film, though, and I can’t quite place why it doesn’t. The CGI could be better in some spots, but that’s not particularly damaging, and the film certainly meanders, but I can live with that. The script is a little simplistic because it’s supposed to be plausibly told from the mind of a child, but I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better if they had tried to make it a little bit more sophisticated. I’m not sure, though, but all I know is that my mind began to drift from the action and began to theorize about whether this film is an allegory for Obama’s first year in office. Think about it: Max becomes the wild things’ leader on the platform of abolishing all bad feelings and instilling happiness, and everyone starts to believe he has magical powers; however, when things don’t work out, his subjects grow resentful and start to realize he’s just another kid. Not as obvious as the theological allegory in Horton Hears a Who, but I can’t help but wonder.

  • 80. The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus (2009)
  • Given that it’s so rare that Terry Gilliam makes a film these days, and given that this is Heath Ledger’s last film, I really wanted to like this movie. I feared that the recasting of Heath’s role with Jude Law, Johnny Depp, and Colin Farrell might seem jarring, but that is easily the least of this film’s problems. It is rife with Gilliam’s usual sense of twisted imagination, but it also attempts to tell some semblance of a story, and at that it fails big time. Mr. Nick (i.e., The Devil), though he is wonderfully portrayed by Tom Waits, has no reason whatsoever to offer Parnassus the deal that forms the central narrative, so the result is a Devil who seems flighty and ineffectual, which deflates all the drama. The story is as poorly paced as they get, especially once they finally get around to taking up the Devil on his deal, partially because the movie is bogged down with a plethora of random scenes, some of which just don’t work, but all of which seem totally aimless. What’s more, everything is very predictable. I’ve heard Gilliam intended Parnassus, an aging has-been who offers the key to imaginative visual worlds but who no one seems to be interested in anymore, as an allegory for himself. Well, Terry, I still love your visual worlds, but I think you could use some help with basic screenwriting techniques.

  • 81. Superbad (2007) (watched again)
  • Perhaps even more fun the second time around, Superbad is far better than it has any right to be, and easily one of the best teen movies ever made. You can pick apart the male bonding and partying dynamics as much as you like, or you can just sit back and enjoy the ride.

  • 82. Julie and Julia (2009)
  • Julie and Julia is a lightweight chick flick bolstered by yet another wonderful Meryl Streep performance in which she is as bright and effervescent as the real Julia. Amy Adams is also fun to watch as always, but unlike the “Julia” half of the movie, the “Julie” half is weighed down by some pretty weak writing. It coasts along alright until the movie tries to inject some dramatic tension into the mix, at which point it feels very forced, as if the characters have ceased to become characters and have become the pawns of a sadistic puppetmaster eager to provoke more serious scenes. Things are mostly light and bubbly with some completely inappropriate bitter moments thrown in, like a chocolate fondue with broccoli rabe floating in it. Well, er, bon appétit!

  • 83. Avatar (2009)
  • They say that James Cameron wanted to make this film just after Titanic, but he didn’t think the technology was advanced enough. If this represents the biggest leap forward in technology since 1997, I guess I’ll wait another 12 years. Yes, the last thing I expected of this film was for its visuals to disappoint me, but 3D live action still needs a LOT of work. The 3D humans lack depth in odd ways that cause their motions to seem stilted and video-game-esque, and unless you’re sitting in the perfect position in the theater, you’re bound to see blurry spots or think you’re having double vision. It’s distracting enough to make the live-action scenes less engaging, although admittedly the 3D does work better in the fully animated world. Even there, though, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the film was on the level of a computer-animated film with better-than-average detail but not much more, and it’s all too flawlessly designed for anyone to believe that the story takes place in the realm of reality. But nevermind that, as the animated visuals are easily the best part of the film, and for the budget, they’d better be. The story of corporate greed is cliché and stupid, of course, but it’s also so underdeveloped that it feels like an afterthought, existing only as a canvas on which to paint computer effects. If Cameron didn’t need to transition from planet-exploring special effects to action-scene special effects, he wouldn’t need a story at all. Some very minor details even made me feel like Cameron was testing the limits of his audience, questioning how dumb he could possibly make the film and still get people to hail it as a masterpiece. Unobtainium? Seriously? That would be like Hitchcock making a suspense-thriller about a bunch of spies chasing after a guy named McGuffin. Also, the jungle floor lights up wherever you step on it? Is this Avatar or the video for Billie Jean? Finally, Papyrus font for the subtitles? Someone should’ve told James Cameron that that doesn’t look tribal, it looks like a Powerpoint presentation.
  • In any case, I could’ve accepted the weak story, but more troubling to me is the complete lack of any shred of interesting character development. I don’t mean they lack depth, I mean they lack traits. All we get are stock characters who, again, serve as clotheslines on which to hang CGI. There’s something to be said for knowing your strengths, I guess. The film is also at least 30 minutes too long, but I don’t mean to overstate my criticisms because in spite of all this, I didn’t hate the movie. Pandora is too awesome an environment for me to detest Avatar. Still, it is an extremely flawed film. I’ve heard a lot of people defend Avatar by asking, “Is the dialogue really any worse, are the characters really more bland, is the plot really more inane than the first Star Wars movie?” I never said that Star Wars was a masterpiece either, but my response is: Yes, yes, bloody yes.
  • Note that I didn’t even mention the dialogue in this review. It’s become a cliché to trash this movie’s dialogue, and I didn’t want to succumb to clichés, because I’m not James Cameron. I will say this: it is better than the dialogue in Attack of the Clones.

  • 84. Werckmeister Harmonies (2000)
  • This is a film with a number of terrific scenes, that are diluted by a number of scenes that either don't work or don't exist for any particular reason. It's as if the film feels like it needs to cultivate an languid pace and padded its running time accordingly, which honestly sometimes works, but here it irritated me. Still, it's hard to deny the effectiveness of the absurdity in some of the scenes here, particularly the brilliant opening sequence.

  • 85. Dodsworth (1936)
  • Some truly terrific classic-era acting is on fine display here in this drama about a man whose wife grows distant in her refusal to age gracefully. The script has much to say about the culture shock of Americans traveling to Europe as well as society's place for the middle-aged, and the actors sell the material beautifully. Parts of the film really drag, parts feel stagy, and William Wyler is probably the least creative of the much-heralded directors, but Dodsworth is still a good film. More importantly, I have now seen all of Leonard Maltin's 100 must-see films.

  • 86. Broadway Danny Rose (1984)
  • Woody Allen has a knack for taking the motif of the roaring twenties, particularly the vaudeville scene and the gangster film genre, and exploring it in fresh, new ways. Note the vaudevillian tone to his early comedies, or the way that he uses old, schtick-y jokes to make points about romance in Annie Hall, or the way that some of his films either literally or figuratively transport modern-day characters into pulpy old movie scenarios. Anyway, this is probably one of his less interesting takes on this theme, but it's still a good movie. Allen's Borscht belt entertainer character provides some great one-liners, and there's plenty of great dialogue, but the plot is rather contrived, though still enjoyable.

  • 87. Performance (1970)
  • This film starts out a complete mess, full of muddled plotting and unnecessarily frenzied editing. I knew Mick Jagger was in the film, so I kept wondering when he'd show up in the first 45 minutes. Finally he does, and what do you know, he saves the movie. Performance settles down a bit and starts creating an interesting juxtaposition between the gangster and the thrill-seeking, fading rock star. The visuals evoke the epitome of 60s/70s mod subculture, with rich art direction, sexual and narcotic hedonism, and a terrific performance by Jagger. If only the first 1/3 weren't so terrible, you'd have a great movie on your hands.

  • 88. The Night of the Hunter (1955) (watched again)
  • A truly remarkable, visually stunning work of cinema, The Night of the Hunter sometimes fails to get the respect it deserves for the very reason it's so brilliant: it's weird enough to be unclassifiable. The film features scenes of heartfelt emotion, but it's not a pure drama. The film can chill you to your core, but it's meatier than most horror films, which tend to be purely visceral. It features Robert Mitchum in a typically dark performance, but it doesn't follow the tropes of film-noir. And it's been called a children's fable, but that's not quite it either. It almost feels like a religious text for the modern age, displaying the evil of false prophets and waxing religious about the importance of children and their innocence. Ultimately, however you categorize this offbeat film, the power of its story and imagery is undeniable.

  • 89. Irreversible (2002)
  • This film belongs in a category of movies that are impressively constructed but so horrific that I doubt I would ever care to watch them again. Typical of my desensitized generation, I have a strong stomach for this stuff, so Irreversible can join the only other film I would place in such a category: Requiem for a Dream. In case you're thinking of seeing this movie, know this: Irreversible's style is to get to the moment when most films would cut away, and then keep shooting. And then get to the point when you're so uncomfortable, you think, 'Okay, they must be cutting away from this brutality any second now, right?', and then to keep shooting for another five minutes. And then to piss on the victim's wounds. In all seriousness, there's one act of brutal violence that takes up about 10 minutes of the 90 minutes of this film's running time, and it's one unbroken shot as well. I was expecting the most notable part of this film to be its backwards chronology.
  • Speaking of the backwards chronology, it works not for any storytelling reasons (as Memento's does) but purely for its emotional payoffs. We see the storm before the calm, and that means that when we see our two protagonists in a potentially sensual scene, it doesn't play that way at all; it just feels wrong to still be seeing a vulnerable side to this woman after what she's been through. Furthermore, everything seems like an omen, every line a distressing reminder of what is to come.
  • In any case, Irreversible is a great film, but I think not quite intelligent enough to be a masterpiece. A film that goes to such lengths to show us disturbing brutality should have depths of meaning to it, whereas the title card we get at the end is pure idiocy. I feel that the first act of violence that we see muddles the message that we may get out of the second act of violence, and instead of the stunning visuals of Requiem for a Dream, we instead get loopy camera movements that are supposed to convey anxiousness but really just made me seasick. In terms of a harrowing emotional experience, few films are as affecting as Irreversible, but I don't think the film is quite as smart as it thinks it is.

  • 90. Oliver! (1968)
  • This is the type of film that Oscar buffs like to thumb their nose at, a film that won Best Picture back in the day just for being so entertaining and is rarely considered for great-films lists today. Yeah, it beat the masterful costume drama The Lion in Winter and it bested the non-nominated 2001: A Space Odyssey and Once Upon a Time in the West, but let's not lose sight of how tremendously entertaining this film actually is. It features glorious cinematography, a huge heap of iconic and memorable songs (the best being "Reviewing the Situation"), and some truly terrific performances, especially the cheeky Jack Wild who gives easily one of the most well-trained, charismatic child performances I have ever seen. And because it's based on a Dickens novel, it has a social consciousness too. It's not the best film of 1968, but I for one will never underestimate the value of a rousing good time at the movies.

  • 91. Crazy Heart (2009)
  • The biggest complaint about this film is that it's quite similar to Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, and indeed, Crazy Heart's plot takes some turns down familiar paths. However, it contains enough twists to keep itself fresh, and rarely do we see this story showcased with such poignancy. When Bad Blake ends up in the hospital, I was afraid it would turn into a carbon copy of Aronofsky's work, but I felt that the diagnosis is a red herring here, a distraction from the fact that Crazy Heart is very much a love story. I also dare say that the protagonist's downfall and ensuing fallout is handled more realistically here than in The Wrestler, and the actors are so skilled that the story feels more timeless than rehashed. The theme song has been stuck in my head ever since I saw it, and I was very glad to see Bridges and Gyllenhaal show up amongst the nominees this Oscar morning. A truly touching film.

  • 92. The Last Station (2009)
  • A very good Tolstoy biopic with resonant performances that have stuck with me after I had forgotten about the complex Russian politics at play in the script. Helen Mirren joins the list of Best Actress nominees who deserve the award more than frontrunner Sandra Bullock (probably; I actually haven't seen The Blind Side), the legendary Christopher Plummer is perhaps even better, Paul Giamatti is as terrific as ever, and James MacAvoy needs to stop accepting supporting credits for leading roles in which he plays foils to historical figures. Definitely recommended.

  • By the way, often when I do a double- or triple-feature, I notice weird similarities between the films (such as the day when I saw Rachel Getting Married, The Wrestler, and Gran Torino all in one day and noticed that they all had scenes in which the main character goes through a chest full of photos and/or mementos of a traumatic memory). As for Crazy Heart and The Last Station? Both feature a famous actor who inexplicably was mostly absent from the press about the film (Colin Farrell and Paul Giamatti), and both feature some great facial hair.

  • 93. Patience (1995) (TV-movie)
  • I really only watched this to get to know this show better. The performance seemed fine. As for the show itself, it features some funny dialogue and situations but has the most forgettable score of any Gilbert and Sullivan operetta I've seen yet (which, admittedly, includes none of the widely-panned ones like Grand Duke or Utopia Limited).

  • 94. Floating Weeds (1959)
  • There's more of a narrative here than in most Yasujiro Ozu films, and he handles this change-up beautifully, proving that his iconic perfectly composed, still-camera, low-angle direction is highly effective in storytelling as well. He also proves to be a master of not just black and white, but also of color, with every frame here bursting with colorful life, the perfect setting for a film about traveling players. The acting is terrifically subtle and the ending is absolutely pitch-perfect. What a wonderful film.

  • 95. Braveheart (1995)
  • It was probably about time that I saw this renowned epic, a film that posits that battles are fought because of love and won because of brains. If that sounds cheesy, it kind of is, and the film is peppered with a lot of silly dialogue. However, some scenes successfully tug at the heartstrings, and the battle scenes are gloriously rendered. I don't know why, but while I often get bored of watching strings of special-effects-laden explosions, medieval battles can usually have me on the edge of my seat. Anyway, the film is a little overrated, but a decent way to spend three hours. After all, you can take up my time, but you'll never take my FREEDOM!!!

  • 96. The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988)
  • A fanciful yet affecting, deftly made film that certainly impresses, in spite of the fact that it fits the overused mold of one hour of romantic drama, followed by true-to-life violent bloodshed, followed by the clashing of the two. I think both the romance and the violence are handled so well that it all fit more congruously IMHO than in, say, Atonement. The cast is uniformly terrific, with the actors exuding a charming chemistry and a vivid sexual energy. I really have no idea why the Oscars didn't go gaga for this work of romantic historic drama, as it's unquestionably a better film than any of the 1988 Best Picture nominees I've seen, some by a large margin (seriously, they nominated Working Girl over this?). My only thought it that it was too erotic for them, but whatever the reason, I'm glad I rediscovered this underrated film today.

  • 97. Youth in Revolt (2009)
  • Michael Cera plays both to type and against type as the split-personality hero of this funny, offbeat film. The film is bizarre and druggy, simultaneously cynical and whimsical, and unlike many other teen comedies I've ever seen. It's closer to Bonnie and Clyde than American Pie. A few of its supporting characters are cliches who leave a bad taste in your mouth, but the two leads are well-crafted, interesting characters, and Fred Willard is always fun to watch. Also, the film's voice is unique, but it could probably stand to be a little funnier. Still, the film is pretty good and worth a watch.

  • 98. The More the Merrier (1943)
  • Curse the Hollywood star system! This screwball comedy was made in a time when all lead actors and actresses were stars, and character actors were eternally relegated to their "supporting actor" category. That's why, after 50 glorious minutes of madcap hilarity featuring the great Charles Coburn, The More the Merrier feels the need to push Coburn aside to focus on the young hot lovers: Joel McCrea and Jean Arthur. The energy slows to a crawl, and the romantic scenes are decent, but it lacks the exceptional cleverness on display in the first half. Keep Coburn around to play matchmaker throughout the whole film and this could've been a comedy classic. As such, it will have to settle for being very good.

  • 99. Broken Embraces (2009)
  • Some films captivate right from the start, drawing the audience in and making them eager to see how the plot threads are going to unravel. Great films then have payoffs just as compelling as their setups, but Broken Embraces is not a great film. It certainly hooks you in, but unfortunately, the more we learn about what is going on here, the less interested we become. It all culminates in a particularly horrible ending: I am getting awfully tired of scenes where someone sits down and says, "Okay, I'm going to explain everything now," and this film handles that particularly clumsily. Also, the whole plot seems senseless because much rests on the characters' investment in the film-within-the-film, which in turn seems more like a brainless farce and less like a passion project.
    Spoiler: Highlight to view
    The decision to end the film with an extended scene from this stupid farce is particularly anticlimactic.
    Of course, there is much to enjoy before the weak ending, and Penelope Cruz continues to prove that she's terrific at being alternately sexy and downtrodden. Sadly, Pedro Almodovar may never make another film as flat-out brilliant as Talk to Her, but I'll keep hoping.

  • 100. The Killers (1946)
  • The first scene of this film, the one most directly based on the Ernest Hemingway story, has a completely different tone from the rest of the film: the killers' over-the-top sense of menace is brimming with both claustrophobia and dark comedy. After the opening, the killers disappear and so does the humor; instead, we get a noir-infused unraveling of the dead man's life, darkly photographed and with shades of Citizen Kane. Personally, I missed the ridiculous pulpiness of the opening, but I could also see how that first scene could play as too caricatured for someone who wanted a straight-up noir thriller. Either way, it's oddly disjoint, and I don't mean to overstate the importance of the first scene, but it is after all the only scene that is actually based on the Hemingway story that the film ostensibly adapts. Despite this incongruity, the film is quite good, and its intricate plot is recommended to any fans of The Big Sleep.

  • 101. Faust (1926)
  • An excellently-rendered fantasy epic, especially for the silent era, Faust is still a wonder to behold. I honestly found some parts less than engaging, but it's still an impressive film to look at.

  • 102. The White Ribbon (2009)
  • Lukeprog has praised the honesty of my reviews, so I'll be upfront here and say that I couldn't really get into this much-heralded film. I will also admit that this may have been because I was quite tired and perhaps wasn't in the best state to keep focus on this slow-paced, atmospheric work. I liked the cinematography, though, and it held my attention at the times when the tension really mounted, so I may very well enjoy it if I were to watch it again.

Author Comments: 

Comments are always welcome, always have been, and always will be.

Hmm. I think my problem with Synecdoche was that a) it was too long and b) I constantly got the feeling the director wanted to do something (utter a universal truth regarding misery) and failed on every level. Agree to disagree, I guess.

Juno was completely unrealistic to me, I can't imagine anyone acting like that. Maybe the odd phrase here and there but on a regular basis? Do people really maintain their hipster attitude when they deal with teenage pregnancy, social exclusion and abortion clinics? It was like they were just trying to act as cool as possible, from the way they'd phrase their remarks to the constant name-dropping of bands. Everything about the movie was "cool", the parents, the foster parents, the friends. There was no conflict, aside from the parts regarding the marriage which were the saving grace of the movie. I wasn't expecting it to deal with the true nature of teenage pregnancy, but I was hoping it would at least be grounded in reality.

I don't understand how people can think Juno is ultra-hip or unrealistic. All the characters speak somewhat stylized dialogue, yes, but what is "cool" about that?

Is Jennifer Garner's character cool? She's one of those women who has had motherly urges since the day she was born. To me she seems like the least stylized character in the movie, pretty grounded, and not unlike plenty of other movie characters.

Is the dad cool? To me he seems like the epitome of the dopey, dorky dad figure, the kind who has a lame-ass job he gets excited about and is always making corny jokes. Just listen to the way he says "your dear old D-A-D" to Juno and tell me what's hip about that. I also have heard people say that the scene where she tells her parents she's pregnant is unrealistic, as if the only acceptable response to that would be for the parents to get angry. Sure, maybe 70% of parents would get angry, which means almost all movie characters in that situation would get angry, but this film is about the other 30%, who would merely register the quiet disappointment and pragmatism that we see here. I think it's all the more interesting for it.

Is the stepmom cool? To me she seems like the epitome of Midwestern charm, kind of along the same lines of dorkiness as the dad, but obsessed with knitting and dogs. Of course, insult her family and she goes all "mama bear" on you. This is a pretty lame family for a teenage girl to have, but she appreciates them because they're not simply defined by their quirks.

Is Paulie Bleeker cool? To me he seems like the awkward high school nerd at his finest, never feeling comfortable in his own skin. But in modern high schools, most nerds aren't the social pariahs that we see in high school movies, so thankfully Paulie is allowed to play a sport, have a date to prom, etc. His love for Juno and the way she deflects it are depicted with subtlety and without any confrontation, and I know from experience that it feels totally real.

How about the conversations that Jason Bateman and Juno have? Haven't we all had excited conversations about our favorite artists when we realize that we have common tastes with another person? Isn't that what this site is for?

As for Juno, yes, I absolutely know people who maintain their detached attitude in all cases. And I'm not denigrating it. I had a friend who had testicular cancer, and when he told me, it became clear that the only way he was going to get through it was to make jokes about it the entire time, instead of confronting his real fears about it. The hipster attitude works the same way. And sometimes you don't have to confront your emotions, but sometimes - as Juno learns - it can be rewarding. That's the real conflict here.

I admit that the film is stylized, but so is the way that most people actually talk. I feel like if this were an average high school movie, everyone would talk like, well, Hollywood screenwriters.

Abstract and subjective as Synecdoche was, I don't really feel I can comment on what you said, except to say that it all worked for me, and I'm sorry it didn't work for you.

This was stream-of-consciousness and I have to leave now, so sorry for any errors I may have missed.

I guess cool is the wrong way to put things, but most characters are so wholly idiosyncratic to the point they're not even human. You used the word epitome a few times and that was some of the trouble I had with them, by taking them to such extremes they became inorganic. And it's like they continuously try to be smart and just end up being attitudinal, which is an empty substitute. The dialog is calculatingly fatuous and strives to be as audience pleasing as possible, it functions much like a sitcom. It's so saccharine and makes no attempt to achieve any kind of balance. It's ostentatious, always reaching for an overwritten one-liner. It made a few attempts for emotional sincerity but in each case it felt so contrived and unearned that it ended up falling flat. Its vague indie posturing grated at me as every self-conscious minute of its existence.

I'm not sure how much I agree with you about what the "real conflict" is, a lot of its failures, for me, stem from the fact that there is no dramatic weight. I'm not one who requires having something exciting happen (Pather Panchali is a favorite) but there was just nothing going on that interested me on any level. And sure conversations about music exist, but the delivery in which it was discussed was so off-putting.

Two comparisons: Juno bears stylistic resemblance to Rushmore, which I thought was much better. It had none of the flamboyance of Juno, it functioned on a far more subtle level. The other comparison is with Ghost World, the comic in particular. Its acerbic dialog is pitch-perfect, it doesn't hammer at its audience like Juno continuously did.

Interesting we have such divergent views.

I don't think the word "epitome" connotes extremeness, but if you thought they were nothing but soulless archetypes, I would have to disagree. I think each of them are character types that are developed in new and different ways than we normally see in comedies, and they all have hearts and souls and the best of intentions. I also love the dialogue; for the most part it doesn't feel punchline-y to me, but rather, a manifestation of a well-characterized setting and cast of characters.

It certainly is a film where the conflict is more internal. That didn't bother me, but I think many things about the film either just bothered you more or worked better for me. I can accept that, although I'm surprised if you were put off by Jason Bateman and Ellen Page's conversations about music and movies. To me they felt completely natural, plus they were pure characterization scenes, without much attempt at ostentatious humor.

Rushmore is indeed a more subtle film than Juno, but in my opinion (and aside from The Royal Tenenbaums, I'm not a huge Wes Anderson fan), it feels far more emotionally distancing and isn't nearly as clever as it thinks it is. Ghost World is a terrific film, and I should probably see it again, now that you mention it.

I'm still waiting for Up in the Air to land in my town, and now, even more so...

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

Indeed! I think you might just enjoy that one.

Reading your Seen log, I note you have several reviews arriving soon I'm anticipating... :)

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

Great reviews, especially for Inland Empire!

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

Agreed. I like your observations on Lynch's obsession with how Hollywood starlets get chewed up by the system. To me I feel like he related this phenomenon to the plight of women in general, whether it be as prostitutes in Poland or simply as house wives.

Thanks, guys! I'm pretty backed up on reviews, but it's encouraging to know people are still reading and enjoying them!

I do so love, love, love the honesty of your reviews.

Thank you very much, sir! Since this series was initially modeled after the (sorely missed) jgandcag's original "Damn" series, and he always just spoke whatever the hell thoughts were on his mind, I generally try to do the same. Happy new year, by the way!

"2009 was a great year for good movies but a terrible year for masterful ones..."

I think that expresses how I felt about last year pretty well!

We obviously had very different reactions to Invictus, but it was fun re-reading you Nine review now that I've actually seen the film.

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

Yeah, the lack of superlative standouts is disappointing in a year where I saw so many films I liked, even a few with weak reviews. My only A grade so far is Adventureland, and a part of me even wonders if I've overrated that. I still have high hopes for Crazy Heart though...

I actually just posted my Nine review a few hours ago, but you may be remembering the post I made on your list, where I discussed many of the same points. As for Invictus, I must admit it's even suffered in my memory; it just feels so cheap to me to have a film about a country recovering from a complex, damaging political situation climax with a banal sports championship sequence. Most of the acting is stellar, though.

Yes, I must be thinking about your comment on my list. Sorry!

Well, no wonder I enjoyed your review so much more this time...

I'm also holding out hope for Crazy Heart, as well as The White Ribbon. I've no idea if that last one will show in my city.

I'm not sure I felt like Invictus was saying quite as much as you felt like it was. I felt like the game was a step down the road to recovery, not breaking the tape at the end of the track itself. I'm probably wrong, but if I felt like you do, I probably wouldn't like it nearly so much either.

I enjoyed the sports sequence, but then I was seeing it shortly after The Blind Side so perhaps the contrast made it look better than it was. :)

I also really enjoyed Adventureland.

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

The White Ribbon is masterful. It felt like I was watching a Dreyer film.

My local arthouse theater is now running the trailer for it and claiming it will show the film near the end of the month. I'll let you know what I think when I see it!

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

=whew= I'm not the only person who found even the visual aspects of Avatar disappointing...

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

With all the buzz, I was really expecting a big leap forward in 3D technology that just was not showing up on the screen. Maybe I was hoping for too much...

Your Werckmeister review makes me =(, it's one of the best films I've ever watched. That opening scene really is magnificent, one of the many imprinted in my mind (there's also the arrival of the circus, the ransacking, etc). I've rarely seen a more powerful use of symbolism, as well as music. I found the pacing to be very deliberate and affecting; the way the shots linger really draws the viewers to seeing past the superficial information being conveyed (ie. a truck entering the village) and essentially forces us to focus on things in a way we never would in reality.

I would love to see a favorite films list from you. I always enjoy reading what you have to say, but for some reason I just can't get a grip on your tastes.

Yeah, it might be my fault for getting irked by the slow pace. I generally feel that every moment of a film should add something to the end result, and here the deliberate pace just meant I grew restless waiting for the next scene as terrific as the opening shot or the ransacking. I didn't think that the atmosphere created by the slow pace was nearly as effective as, say, Stalker.

I'm very glad you enjoy my various cinematic ramblings. I've been thinking about my favorite film list for years but always felt like I wanted to watch and rewatch enough movies to make sure I had everything right. I took a look at your list and can say that my taste is probably a good deal more narrative-focused than yours; while I am open to loving avant-garde experimental films or slow-paced mood-driven films, I don't necessarily prefer them, and there's no telling what might make me connect with one such film and not another. Films from your list that would most likely make a list of my 30 favorite movies would include the Chaplin films, Chinatown, Hiroshima Mon Amour, Paris Texas, and Persona. I love many other films on your list, of course. This list is probably the best sampling of my favorite films that I have, for now.

Nice job on knocking out the Maltin list!

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

I don't agree at all that Irreversible is somehow dim. I actually found it surprisingly intelligent (while also being ridiculously viseral). I think it has a lot in common with a film like Blue Velvet in that it shows extreme evil as a way of commenting on normal life - as a way of showing all the subtle evils that exist therein. That's what I love so much about the second half, is that it somehow makes the disturbing parts seem entirely tangible and somehow organic. Or maybe I am just a masochist.

Spoiler: Highlight to view
I didn't get that out of Irreversible, perhaps because we didn't see the normal life of the only person who commits an unprovoked act of brutality. I could completely see why someone would want to beat the crap out of a guy who raped his girlfriend and put her into a coma, so I saw Marcus's character as just someone who was pushed to the brink, not someone with evil stewing inside him throughout the earlier scenes. But I actually think Blue Velvet is kind of overrated and not that intelligent either, so maybe I just have a mental block with such films.

If you're talking about the rapist, I think you learn a lot about him through the character of Marcus, who was quite unwilling to go without sex. And I think the motivations of the rapist was revenge on women for having control and power over his sexuality. But if you're talking about Pierre, the subway & party scenes explore his personality. He is still in love with Alex and is the kind of impotent intellectual who holds his animal impulses inside (until they explode).

But the motivations of the rapist aren't actually explored in the film at all, nor is female control over sexuality really a theme explored in the film either. I do agree that it's interesting to see both Marcus and Pierre explode with rage and then see the build-up in reverse, but the fact that Pierre's act of violence is committed in retaliation to something equally brutal (if not more so) yet ultimately punishes the wrong person just feels like one big "fuck you" to the characters and the audience. It's viscerally powerful, but what to take away from all this? Life is random, time destroys everything, whoop-dee-doo. The film drags us into the darkest reaches of humanity's evil like no other film I've seen, but I don't feel like we get enough out of that journey.

The difference between the brutality of the rape scene and the murder is that we know why the two men did it; and thus we can empathize with them. But what if we apply the same logic to the rapist? How is it fair to sterotype him as evil and somehow have an understanding about Marcus & Pierre. The reason is, of course, because that's all we know of the rapist. I mean, suppose we read of Pierre's exploits in the morning paper; we might say to ourselves, "My God, what a psychopath. How could somebody do such a thing?" Now, the film shows us pretty clearly why Pierre would do such a thing. And after being shown that, how can we still be confused by the rapists actions? I think Noe is poking fun at how flimsy and circumstanstial our morality is. And again I find similarities in Blue Velvet - Jeffrey does some very questionable things, but because he's good looking and good natured we don't even question it. The evil is instead embodied in Frank Booth, as if there is a severe difference between the two men. But really, theres not. They are more alike than different and I think the same can be said of the rapist and the two men (and of course, all of us).

See, I don't buy that Noe was implying that there could have been a justification for the rape. Everything about the rape scene was totally savage, and regardless of whatever issues the rapist was having with his sexuality, certainly Alex did nothing to deserve the rape. The rapist was responsible for probably the most ruthless depiction of violence I've ever seen, and he wasn't portrayed in a sympathetic light whatsoever, so I couldn't find myself construing any ambiguity in the morality of that situation.

You do make a good point about reading of Pierre's exploits in the paper though. I guess this is part of the effectiveness of the backwards structure: that we see a horrendously brutal beating and think, "God, what a psychopath" but then later see it's a retaliation for something even more brutal and perhaps rethink things. Of course, the fact that Pierre beats the wrong person muddies this theory, and the fact that I knew enough about the movie to know that the first beating was a retaliation for a rape kind of dulls this impact.

Am I the only one who was more disturbed by what he was saying during the rape than the actually act itself?

They're on par, but I wasn't really separating the two in my mind: the threats, the rape, what he was saying, the beating, and the spit afterward make for a superlatively disturbing scene.

I thought the fire extinguisher was worse. But regarding the rape scene, wasn't that incredibly well done? I wonder if the man wasn't actually having sex with her; it looked so real the way he would slow down and then start going again. bravo.

Too far?

I was perhaps the only grown man in 1995 rooting for Babe to win Best Picture over the other nominees...

I also think Oliver! has gotten a bit of a bad rap.

Now I'm even more interested to catch Crazy Heart Friday...

As always, I'm loving the reviews!

Shalom, y'all!

L. Bangs

Hahaha! 1995 definitely doesn't seem like an inspiring selection, although to be fair, Babe and Braveheart are the only ones I've actually seen.

Having never seen the show Oliver! or read the book it's based on, I was going into it with totally fresh eyes, and I was blown away at how much fun I was having! I think it may be my favorite Best-Picture-winning musical.

As for Crazy Heart, I hope you enjoy it! Sometimes it bothers me when I feel a film is telling a story that I've seen before, but I just got so invested in that film that I didn't care.

Anyway, thanks!

Sup

Just saw Precious, enjoyed it quite a bit, and agree with most of what you said. I had a few issues with the almost fairy-tale nature of it all (although of course it was no Slumdog); but there was really one significant flaw I saw and was wondering what you thought of it: diegesis. I was disappointed by how the music kept undercutting the emotional bleakness. I felt it could have been much more powerful if Daniels let the scenes unfold naturally, without trying to mitigate their intensity with music. In addition, the voiceovers got to me. I wish Daniels let the visuals "do the talking", instead of trying to substitute them. She put up a great performance, and the talking just drew the focus away from that fact. Perhaps I'm nit-picking.

PS: I'm glad to see you've started updating your latest edition.

Are you talking about the a cappella gospel choir that backed up the child abuse? I actually loved that part as well as the Polaroids, I thought that made the scene so much more inventively heartbreaking. If you're talking about a different scene, I don't recall being particularly distracted by the score. I do think it's annoying to feel like the music is distracting from the emotional resonance. Notes on a Scandal sticks out in my mind as a terrific film that was hurt by what I felt was an aggressively overdramatic score.

As for the voiceovers, I didn't mind them much either; I think I'm generally pretty accepting of voiceovers as long as they're not poorly acted and completely superfluous (see Vicky Christina Barcelona for both). Glad you liked the movie overall though. I can think of few films with as much raw emotional power over the last few years.

Just saw your review for Bad Lieutenant - it was my favorite movie of the year. Just wanted to point out a couple of things: one, the 1992 Keitel movie was NOT forgettable...I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it, two, this isn't really a remake (I heard that Herzog really just wanted to title it Port of Call: New Orleans), as even though the plots are similar, the story is different in a few significant ways, and three, Nic Cage's "performance" is totally intentional and IMO one of his absolute best. Cage really knows his stuff when it comes to playing a drug addict, I'll tell you that. The scene where he's driving with Xzibit and the other drug dealers was legitimately scary and surreal, as Cage was so unhinged at that point you really didn't know what he was going to do next.

My favorite Cage-related work is actually the series of 5 Pachinko commercials he did in Japan...you can youtube them (they are quite popular there, and hilarious)...so take this all with a grain of salt.

Yeah, I heard after I wrote this review that Herzog didn't consider this a remake, but of course the studio wanted to cash in on any sort of name recognition possible. The original Bad Lt. never really made a splash on my radar, but you're right, I should probably check it out.