AVATAR

The Academy faces a difficult task in evaluating “Avatar”, especially when held against the other Best Picture nominees. How do you compare a perfectly made 5 course meal to a perfect cheeseburger, even a cheeseburger that might change your world outlook? (side note, if there is such a cheeseburger, I want to eat it.)

So many things, groundbreaking and path-forging things at that, went into the making of “Avatar” that it stands in a category all to itself. Of course it was the most amazing, impressive, difficult-to-execute-and-yet-executed-well film of the last, oh, 10 years. Of course its story seems derivative (it’s basically the classic hero’s journey, which society has been telling and retelling as long as there’s been society.) Of course it’s difficult to evaluate because it’s hard to tell where the film stops and the Computer Generated atmosphere begins. But all of these things are part of what made “Avatar” such a hugely-successful film. Just because it’s going to end up (by hundreds of millions) the most successful film in world history doesn’t mean it also isn’t worthy of praise as the year’s finest.

This film would be nominated if there were 10 nominations, 5 nominations, 3 nominations, or maybe even just one. It will be the formative picture for any children who saw it, much the way “Star Wars” was for a generation before. When Jake first sprints through Pandora in his avatar, it’s as breathtaking a transition as when young Judy Garland first stepped into the brilliant colors of Oz. So many things in this film are epic in their scope and impact. It’s just a swaggering monolith of a film. It’s a five-course meal prepared to perfection. Will it merit evaluation as Best Picture based on that, or will the Academy choose the divinity of sublime simplicity that is a perfect cheeseburger as the “tea leaves” awards (Editors, Cinematographers, Directors, Producers, The British) have done in choosing “The Hurt Locker” as Best Picture so far?

To me, it’s impossible to even compare “Avatar” to other films this year, or, really, ever. I’m not going to be hurt if “The Hurt Locker” wins; it is a perfectly made film. But it’s nowhere near the project that “Avatar” was. If “Avatar” was trash, it would be one thing, but “Avatar” is outstanding in many ways, certainly outstanding enough to earn any praise it gets.

9/10

Completely Made up Odds of winning Best Picture: 3/1

DISTRICT 9

The premise of the film—that aliens reach the US but end up over Johannesburg, South Africa (instead of New York, LA or London), are unwanted and eventually cast into apartheid ghettos, is interesting and works very well. And it worked very well as the short film “Alive in Joburg” that lead director Neil Blomkamp to catching Peter “Lord of the Rings” Jackson’s hairy eye and getting the go ahead to expand the premise into a feature.

The problem is, the film doesn’t work nearly as well as a full length feature. Blomkamp has serious issues expanding the premise. The film is presented as a documentary bringing us up to speed on what’s happened to the aliens to date, and following a hapless bureaucrat as he attempts to evict and move over a million aliens to a facility outside of town. The first third of the film is succulent with subtext—human rights issues, xenophobia, media coverage, and the tender traps of bureaucracy are scattered, smothered, and covered deftly at a breakneck and entertaining pace. This is a film that, for the first third, is alive and rife with more hot buttons than keyboard on fire. It’s the best kind of science fiction, this close to real, and so it’s scary and impactful in unusual ways at the same time.

But after the first third, the subtextual wheels fall off, and the film ceases to be interesting on any level except mere entertainment. And even in that realm, it doesn’t reach rarified heights. The documentary style is gone, kind of, but then it’s not. Then it’s just another shoot-em-up action flick, with great effects and engaging central performances, but showing nowhere near the promise the first act of the film does. The third act is the messiest; for some reason the documentary style presentation is back, and you’re left wondering what the narrative style of the film even is or was supposed to be. The storytelling of the film, including the most obvious open doors to a sequel seen in any film this year, is forced at times, and more manipulative than you’d expect if you only watched a third of the film.

Still this is an entertaining, and, at least for part of it, challenging and interesting film. It just never lives up to the promise of its excellent first act. In another year, this would never have been nominated for Best Picture. But with 10 nominations, it’s there, even as a win for it would be the biggest surprise since Marisa Tomei won Best Supporting Actress for “My Cousin Vinny”.

6.5/10

Completely Made up Odds of winning Best Picture: District 99/1

THE HURT LOCKER

The Academy votes in mysterious ways. That’s how Denzel Washington can win a Best Actor Oscar for a rather boring performance in “Training Day” but  only a Supporting Actor Award for his incredible performance in “Glory”. It’s how Martin Scorsese can win Best Director for “The Departed” but not for “Raging Bull” “Taxi Driver” or “Goodfellas”. It’s how a subpar film like “Crash” dealing with big picture issues that the Academy deems important will find a foothold one year, when in earlier years it may not have.

This works in favor of “The Hurt Locker”. It doesn’t hurt that it’s also an amazingly-made film that succeeds at everything it tries to do. But that it’s covering issues—namely the day-to-day lives of a group of specialist soldiers in Iraq—that have been on the hot-seat for a few years is to its credit. The guilty history of those in the film community is clear, often they vote to make up for being behind the times before; or wait to vote until it’s acceptable to do so.

And the votes in the typical Academy Awards predictors have shown it; “The Hurt Locker” is on fire, sweeping up every major award for which it’s been nominated. Again the Editors, Cinematographers, Producers, Directors, British, all have named “The Hurt Locker” the Best Picture of 2009. This rare combination of a timely and textbook-perfect film that is getting praise for all the reasons it deserves, right or otherwise.

It’s probably because “The Hurt Locker” puts on a clinic. Not only in how to diffuse a roadside bomb (and there seem to be different interpretations of this, much to the consternation and stress of the soldiers involved) but also in how to make a film about diffusing a bomb. Really in how to make a film period. It’s taut where slack would be forgivable. It’s suspenseful where calm would be understood and expected. But this seems to make sense in the context of soldiers who live in such taut and suspenseful times. Mere things like light shining into their quarters in the barracks come at a cost of risking mortar shrapnel flying into the room. Articles, television, even films have shown this, but none as perfectly as “The Hurt Locker”.

Director Kathryn Bigelow (“Point Break”) does a fantastic job finding suspense where other films don’t spend the time. Yes, the music is key for this, but so is the sound (sound mixing especially) and the editing. This is a technically perfect film, but it’s not a mere exercise in technical filmmaking. It’s a well-acted story that affects the entire body: gut, heart, head. Some of my other thoughts on the film are here. It was absolutely one of the best films of the last decade and clearly one of the two best of the last year. It was once a long shot to win Best Picture, but now it’s a favorite.

9.5/10

Completely Made up Odds of winning Best Picture: 5/2

INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS

“Inglourious Basterds” doesn’t really work as a complete film, but as a collection of vignettes, it’s excellent. Director Quentin Tarantino knows how to entertain, of this is there is no question. But he doesn’t always know how to do so consistently, or seem to care. He gained fame with “Pulp Fiction” borrowing narrative style from The French New Wave but making it work in snappy and entertaining ways with an American crime film. He’s well-versed in the importance and history of cinema. And he often does it justice in his work, sometimes directly as in clear segments of homage in his “Kill Bill” films, sometimes indirectly as in “Pulp Fiction”, and sometimes ham-handedly as in “Jackie Brown”.

The problem with “Inglourious Basterds” is it engages in all three: homage, indirect cinematic tribute, and ham-handed filmmaking. As such, it’s inconsistent across the board. Often entertaining, often way over the top, and often disappointing. It’s by no means a perfect film. And unless the vast majority of the Academy harbors revenge fantasies from World War 2, it’s not going to win Best Picture.

The best thing about the film are a couple of extended sequences, especially one in a farm house to open the film, where the tension is so palpable it’s impossible to not feel on edge.  The magnificent performance of Christopher Waltz is vital to the film’s best sequences. It’s a fantastically-well-written part, and the connection between Director and Actor is clear. Waltz, well, waltzes all over the screen with an aplomb that only Quentin Tarantino could’ve visualized. It’s the best kind of pairing between actor and director, where they start on the same page and end up creating something that soars above that page.

But the film also disappoints, both in performances and in consistency of story. Sometimes it’s about a group of mercenaries sent to brutally scalp and maim groups of Nazis. Sometimes it’s about a cinema owner hell bent for revenge. Sometimes it’s about the Nazi reaction, or other resistance efforts. If the film were edited differently, like “Pulp Fiction” for example, it may be able to better work at telling all of these stories. But as it stands it’s several 15-25 minute chapters, which ends up being both a blessing and a curse. For the scenes that work well, the extended vignette style is a blessing. But it’s also a curse because as we spend so much time getting into individual chapters, in the end the film is missing a central arc.

There are stylistic issues as well, even as Tarantino makes bold choices that work stylistically, others don’t fit or don’t work and detract from the overall impact. As said earlier, he’s his own worst enemy. Still, even if inconsistent and imperfect it’s an entertaining film. But entertaining is not enough to win Best Picture. If it were, “The Big Lebowski” and “Caddyshack” would’ve won the Oscars they so richly deserve.

6.5/10

Completely Made up Odds of winning Best Picture: 25/1

THE BLIND SIDE

The problem with “The Blind Side” is Michael Oher’s true story is filled with so many emotional peaks and valleys that the film based on this story never comes to a true climax. It’s a series of huge hurdles jumped so that by the end there’s no significant emotional weight built up in any one of them. This is not to say it’s not an emotional film. Quite the contrary. It’s just not one with a consistent emotional arc.

Director/Screenwriter John Lee Hancock  took some license with writer Michael Lewis’ book on which the film is based. It seems as though if  Hancock were going to take license and change things to make them better work dramatically, he could’ve changed more to lead to a more significant emotional payoff. The book makes a huge deal out of Michael’s academic growth, for example. In the film it’s presented as just another hurdle. You don’t sense the difficulty the Tuohy’s had with Michael Oher nearly as much in the film. It’s as though once he got to the white school, he was bound for success. The real story is much more impressive.

Instead of focusing on the difficulty of bringing up Michael, the film makes the choice to celebrate the development of the relationship between Michael Oher and Mrs. Tuohy. It’s a choice that makes the film more accessible, sure. I’m just not sure there wasn’t room to make the film about the difficulty as well as development of their relationship. In narrowing the focus, the film loses the chance to really hit home on other, emotional moments.

But really, the film is to be celebrated. Considering the source material, it had to be far more difficult to keep the film from devolving into the realm of mere cheesiness, and the team behind “The Blind Side” is to be praised for preventing this. Any time you have a rags to riches story combined with a cute kid batting his eyes and a film with dialogue along the lines of “I’m not improving his life, he’s improving mine”, you’re in the danger zone. But the film wisely manages to play each scene with the right touch, not often using extreme closeups, no extended moments of tears streaming, etc. In fact, when Mrs. Tuohy hears the heartbreaking information that 17 year old Michael has never owned a bed, she leaves to collect herself in another room. Michael listens at the door, but he doesn’t hear sobbing because it’s not there.

Bullock is very good as Mrs. Tuohy, her character truly comes to life on screen in ways it didn’t in the book. It’s not Best Actress caliber, but it’s impressive to see that she had such a good performance in her. There may be hope for her career as she moves on from spunky to actual gravitas in her choices of roles.

This is another one that had not a prayer of being nominated without the extra five. Even with the extra five films, it sure doesn’t seem like it belongs. It’s a heartwarming film, and an amazing story. It’s just not terribly well-made or adapted. It tugs at the heartstrings by letting the action speak for itself, not by manipulating it. But some manipulation of the events could’ve lead to a lot more emotion even without cheesy closeups or the manufactured tears. This one’s just slightly out of focus.

6/10

Completely Made up Odds of winning Best Picture: 74/1

“Someone is missing.”

That’s the tagline of “Shutter Island”, the fourth and latest collaboration between legendary director Martin Scorsese and his current muse, Leonardo DiCaprio. But it also could represent the acknowledgement that there’s a sizeable hole in the landscape of modern commercial filmmaking—we’re missing someone who is at the top of his game and is still willing to take chances with films that play in the realm of the psychological. A realm where the monsters aren’t CGI or otherworldly, and instead are very much products of the lives we live. Alfred Hitchcock never had a problem seizing (and in some ways creating) this mantle and wearing it as a badge of honor, even as his now-lauded masterpieces of the psychological like “Vertigo” were panned on release. In “Shutter Island”, Scorsese grabs that mantle and dances around with it on his head proudly and unabashedly. And it’s one hell of a thing to behold.

Now, sure, there are those who question whether Scorsese is actually currently at the top of his game, considering his last film (and now this one) represents his commercial, but perhaps not creative, pinnacle. But that ignores the fact that he’s coming off his only Best Director Oscar winner in “The Departed”, and those who are quick to criticize Scorsese are slow to come up with a living filmmaker whose canon can match up with his, punch for bloody punch, shot for bloody shot. He’s steeped in Americana, hell, he IS Americana. He is legend. At this point we’re just witnessing a historical legacy continually being built and shaped. To question the power of his latest works in comparison to others is the wrong way to look at it. Pete Rose’s 3000^th and 4000^th hits may not have been struck as sharply as his 1000^th and 2000^th, but they’re arguably more important in his legacy. And Scorsese is far from taking victory laps. He’s doing some of the most taut and entertaining work of his career right now at age 67. We’d all do well to sit back and enjoy history being replayed and made at the same time in front of our very eyes.

In “The Departed” Scorsese and DiCaprio started down a path exploring individualized madness. The longer DiCaprio’s police character was undercover, the more he wore it on his face, and the more it showed up in his actions. His tormented performance scored him myriad nominations and awards, but in the film it was his cool demeanor and clear-headedness that won out over the demons his character tempted throughout. If “The Departed” tenuously tempted these demons, and explored these paths of madness, “Shutter Island” builds a fortress at the end of them and invites and traps the demons inside. 

Yes, “Someone is missing”. But at Shutter Island, a mid 1950’s mental hospital for the criminally insane, a lot of someones are missing. Walking ghosts who have been lobotomized into near-zombie state tend the eerily-lovely gardens. Everyone is on edge. Doom and gloom loom over every interaction and the foreboding sense of coming darkness is as palpable as has been seen on film since David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet” marvelously panned below the surface of small town America to show the infestations lurking just below.

And yes, someone in particular is missing, the most dangerous patient on the island in fact. The patient seemingly has run of the entire island until they can be brought in, and this situation seems to be worrying the main characters more than anyone. These two main characters, played by DiCaprio and Mark Ruffalo, are US Marshalls charged with securing the patient. But they very quickly discern that the people they may need to be most worried about securing are themselves. There’s only one good way on and off Shutter Island, and once a hurricane hits, there’s no good way on or off the Island. But maybe there never was. We begin to shuffle and trudge down the paths of madness with these characters, then we dash down them, get lost, and begin to honestly question where we are and how we got there. Then there’s a lighthouse at the end of the tunnel, but should we trust it? Is it a trap? Will it just crash us into the rocks instead of steering us away? This is a film that swirls you (and the characters) in circles until you’re falling over and grasping at anything to steady yourself. And what you find yourself holding may end up being a worse consequence than falling down would’ve been.

Pull it together Teddy

The casting and acting are inspired, most notably Ben Kingsley as the sheep, or possibly wolf, in sheep’s clothing as the Island’s principal psychiatric doctor. Some ulterior motive, one with fangs, seems to be lurking just inside his Cheshire smile. He pulls us through the film’s twists and turns with just the right amounts of every emotion he needs to supply in each interaction to create the desired impact. Really, it’s a command performance. But it doesn’t overshadow absolutely excellent work from DiCaprio. DiCaprio really is nearly in a league of his own in terms of young actors who can carry such a complex leading role throughout such a twisted tale. If this is Scorsese’s 4000^th hit in a legendary career, it well could be the 1000^th for DiCaprio on the same path. We’re watching him build his legacy with every project he undertakes, and to do so in conjunction with the legacy of Scorsese is pure joy. Scorsese is steeped in cinematic tradition, so steeped he’s now a major part of it. DiCaprio is weaving on the same loom; they’re working their threads into the same tapestry.

But it’s not just Kingsley and DiCaprio. The film also soars due to the always fascinatingly-edgy Ted Levine, and the ever-creepy Max Von Sydow. In Levine you have one of film’s most legendary serial killers (Buffalo Bill in “Silence of the Lambs”.) In Von Sydow you have a man who has both played the devil (“Needful Things”) and faced down with death in a legendary game of chess (“The Seventh Seal”.) When it comes to atmosphere, just having these guys around amps up the creepy scale by powers of ten.

The Classic Platinum Blonde. Kim Novak anyone?

There’s also as many perfectly icy (in some cases soaking wet and/or frozen) femme fatales (Michelle Williams, Emily Mortimer, Patricia Clarkson) as you can shake a stick at.  And the patients we do get extended talks with (including Jackie Earl Haley and a couple of perfect lesser known actors) seem straight out of central casting if central casting were filled only with mental patients.  Everyone in the cast nails the pitch and tenor of their performances. Of course, they’re working with someone who managed to get something great out of Sharon Stone in “Casino” and Tom Sizemore in “Bringing Out The Dead” so it’s to be expected. Still, enough can’t be said about the cast and casting.

The only thing left to talk about is the direction. Scorsese here helms a film that does what he does so well, which is echo great moments and directors in film history. Scorsese is so deft, where others mimic and repeat, he merely echoes. So that his work is both of the ages and for the ages. We’re talking echoes of Hitchcock’s greatest hits here, with moments in “Shutter Island” that resound from “Vertigo”, “North By Northwest”, “Psycho”, “Spellbound”, “Rope”, “Lifeboat”, and “Rebecca” among others. But the film also sounds at times of noir and neo-noir like “Chinatown”, as well as psychological horror like “The Cabinet of Doctor Calagari” and “Carnival of Souls”, and character drama like “The Red Shoes.” This is cinematic music, orchestrated with familiar notes, but also wholly original. It’s fascinating to experience on so many levels.

It would be tragic to spoil where this film gets, or any details about how it gets there, so while praise is easy, criticism is difficult. Minor quibbles can be made with the film’s editing (a lot of sloppy mistakes here being excused as style), and certainly stylistic choices were made to tell the story in a certain way. Not all of them work perfectly. But all of them create a sense of confusion and dizziness. A swimming in the head. Vertigo in the mold of “Vertigo”, with a story just as twisted. The end effect is a film that works, even if you know the outcome, but especially if you don’t. It begs to be seen multiple times.

As said earlier, the film is a spiraling helter skelter slide of an amusement. It’s a fantastic adaptation of an excellent book by Dennis Lehane, and screenwriter Laeta Kalogridis’ adaptation skillfully delves further into the psyche of America in a budding cold war with Communism than Lehane’s book did. The House Un-American Activities Committee rears its ugly head. The specter of the red boogeyman lurks around the corners and within the files, just as the memories of the Nazis haunt and affect DiCaprio. This is a film about a patient on the loose at a mental hospital for criminals, but in true Hitchcockian fashion, there’s a significant MacGuffin (or two) in the story. It’s about a lot more than it seems.

Someone is missing.

9/10

(make plans to see this asap, don’t be spoiled)

FANTASTIC MR. FOX

Someone I know said something to the effect of “interesting that an animated film is the most Wes Anderson like film of any of Wes Anderson’s films.”

And while it’s true that “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” contains elements familiar to Wes Anderson’s canon (characters questioning the essential nature of their beings, teenage angst, a soundtrack that is both one of the film’s layers and essential to the character’s lives, quirky humor, etc.) this is not the quintessential Wes Anderson film. It has flaws, it’s a little shoddy, and it’s not as deeply-layered as his previous works.

But, damn, it’s fun. It entertains. It succeeds and exceeds at what it tries to do. As an animated film, it absolutely transcends the genre, both relying on conventions and playing with them with just the right touches of irony and wink-of-the-eye (literally) humor. Anderson et al understood they were making an animated film, but they also understood they were making a Wes Anderson film, and the result is absolutely everything you’d dream this combination could produce.

What makes a fox a fox? What makes a wild animal a wild animal? What impact do those essential elements have on the life decisions of said creatures? This film does an outstanding job of tackling these questions head on. They’re questions you’ll enjoy seeing answered, and find yourself pondering, even though you never pondered them or cared about the answers before. FMF contains memorable characters, scenes, and devices. And, particularly in the story involving a young fox voiced to near perfection by Jason Schwartzman, it’s an impressive film of any genre that deals with family, and expectations.

The themes in this film are 10/10 good, and the execution of the themes is 10/10 good. My only complaint is the film isn’t logical or consistent even within it’s own universe. Of course it’s not logical or consistent that a fox would walk on his hind legs and speak English, but once you have him doing so, you need to be a little more careful with the execution of the story than Anderson is here. More succinctly, when you make a “kids” movie with such adult themes, you serve two masters. In doing so, you run the risk of serving neither completely.

The issue isn’t that I think the film was too adult or too childish. It’s that I think with several minor changes, it could have succeeded at being both. Instead, it falls just short of making sense from a story standpoint in some cases, even as it does a wonderful job of making sense in other areas. I think even kids will recognize some of these weaknesses. But what’s good about this film is so good, ultimately it doesn’t matter much. You’ll end up very entertained and even emotionally affected. Like the characters in the film, you’ll eventually be able to accept this one on its charming face. Even as that face is a wild animal bearing its teeth in a sheepish smile, and winking at you.

8/10

EXTRACT

The problem with extract as a substance is it’s so distilled that you only need one or two drops before you’re overwhelmed with the sense of what it is, and wishing you had something to break it down into a more pleasurable mix. It can be wildly representative of much greater things, but it can also be too much of one thing to produce a full, pleasurable experience. I have a friend who once cleared out an entire room with a couple of drops of butter extract. Extract is overwhelming and should be handled with caution.

“Extract” the film is a Mike Judge comedy, so it’s wildly representative of his greater works just in mere name alone. Judge is a master at the subtle flavors, so that Beavis and Butthead isn’t just about stupid kids, King of the Hill isn’t just about rednecks, Office Space wasn’t just about a job, and Idiocracy wasn’t just about a phony futuristic society. His blends produce unique combinations that are sneakily much better than one would initially assume, and not overwhelming in any one way so as to drag down the entire product.

He finds his success in simple ways. He’s able to tell full stories with small moments, like using a character named Michael Bolton in “Office Space” who rebels against that name by acting hardcore, but is also afraid of brown-skinned flower vendor. You know a ton about that character just from his minor interactions and characterizations. Hank Hill on “King of the Hill” may be an animated dad on a seemingly one trick show, but he’s as three-dimensional a character/father as there’s been on television in the last couple of decades. Judge is master who flies under the radar simply by flying under the radar in his work.  His work seems broad, but it blends broad elements in such ways as to produce unique, pleasurable experiences.

Unfortunately, “Extract” is just broad. I laughed a little, but it went nowhere beyond that. The typical Mike Judge blend isn’t present in the film. The elements don’t combine to produce anything unique. Instead they just stay overwhelmingly what they are. Sure, it’s got funny moments (though nothing, I suspect, that anyone will find memorable, quotable, or lasting.) And the performances are fine (though Lord knows Kristen Wiig is tragically misused when cast in a straight role. She’s much better as she was in “Ghost Town”, slightly askew, odd, and yet seemingly normal on the surface. Here, she was downright boring.) But overall, the film was bitterly disappointing. All it amounts to is a by the numbers romantic comedy, where each element exists for one purpose, and they’re all familiar, and they produce nothing memorable.

6/10

USA VS. AL-ARIAN

I’m reviewing every film I watch for the first time in 2010, so I’m perhaps a little late to the game on this one, but “US vs. AL-ARIAN” fever didn’t exactly sweep the nation in 2007, so I suspect that you, like me, missed this one.

And on some level, it’s a shame that US v. Al-Arian (the court case, not the film) fever DIDN’T sweep the nation. Or, more pointedly, that the fever that actually swept the nation and swept up our civil liberties with it was the fever that produced the sickness that is the court case at the heart of US v. Al-Arian.

Sami Al-Arian was a college professor at the University of South Florida, arrested on terrorism and conspiracy-related charges and at one time labeled by US officials as one of the most dangerous men in North America. His alleged crime? Funneling money and planning events in North America for a Palestinian group the US has labeled as terrorists.

Without spoiling the facts of the story beyond that, you get the impression that Sami Al-Arian is not the face of evil the government would present him to be, and you can no doubt sympathize, at least somewhat, with his plight.

My view of this film is perhaps tainted by my status as a person who has completed a legal education. But I wanted and expected the film to be about the court case, about the allegations of terrorism and the nuts and bolts of the case at bar, and about the implications of the case for everyone in the US. But this film was instead about Sami Al-Arian’s family. This approach leads to an overall feeling of emotional calculation and manipulation on the part of the filmmakers. It’s less “Frontline” and more like a reality show focusing on the Al-Arian family as they struggle with the imprisonment, trials, and tribulations of their patriarch.

The unfortunate thing is, there’s a fascinating and anger-inducing story at the heart of this film. It isn’t just Sami Al-Arian’s civil liberties that are threatened by an overzealous government who has as much issue with what he’s saying as they do with how and to whom he’s saying it. No, the civil liberties at stake are anyone’s who expresses thoughts or acts in ways deemed “wrong” by the government. But this story doesn’t come to the forefront when 75 percent of the film focuses on the family of the accused. You could skip this one, and read Sami Al-Arian’s website and you would end up more informed, and not having missed anything.

5/10

30 FOR 30: THE U

ESPN has a somewhat fascinating series running right now with it’s “30 for 30” programming to celebrate its 30th anniversary. Essentially, they’re highlighting some of the best (pre-existing and original) sports documentaries from recent years with weekly broadcasts of the documentaries in full. No story I’ve seen as part of this series is as enrapturing as the summary of rise and fall of the University of Miami Hurricanes football program simply entitled “The U”.

There are thousands of Universities across the country, but there’s only one referred to in our collective consciousness as “The U”. And that’s the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Florida. Why does this program with excellent academic chops in such an idyllic setting get national recognition as THE U? “30 for 30: The U” tells this story to much entertainment, and the answer is, not the academics, or the setting. It’s football.

In many ways, The U’s football program was what is right about collegiate sports. It was full of kids from terrible neighborhoods and homes for whom football was the brass ring, the only way out. It produced incredibly entertaining games, and made many kids who would never have had a shot anywhere else into millionaires in the NFL. It also provided these kids the shot at a world-class education that they otherwise would not have had.

But, The U’s football program also represented what was wrong about collegiate sports. In fact, it became THE U that was singled out as the lightning rod for all criticism of college athletics, specifically football, across the nation. It took kids who needed discipline, and then provided them no oversight. It took kids who needed help academically, and then didn’t take an active interest in their education. It took kids who were “problem kids” and then let them run roughshod over any and everything in sight.

“The U” is told through the eyes of former players looking back, and through the eyes of journalists who covered the team and city at the time. But it’s also told through the times themselves, through archival footage and news headlines writ large. Director Billy Corben does an excellent job weaving these disparate sources into a unified narrative about this incredible school and this indelibly-etched-into-the-consciousness football program.

My only complaint with the film is I would’ve liked to have heard more voices: opposing coaches, opposing players (no sit downs with Deion Sanders?), outspoken critics, current football heavy hitters, and current star athletes. A strength of this film is that the voices of the ex players and coaches are so interesting, so bold, so brash and in many ways so void of regret. However, because it relies so heavily on these voices, the film ends up being lot more of a love letter to The U than a legitimate unbiased portrait. But it’s still an incredible story, even if it’s told, like an old war story from a grandparent, with a twinkle in the narrators’ eyes.

7.5/10

1. My parents were scared of me as a child. That’s true.

2. I was able to summon water spirits as a child. This might explain the fear.

3. I probably should’ve been born circa 1930, because I like things from the 40’s and 50’s a lot more than stuff from the 80’ and 90’s. But maybe if I was born in 1930, I’d like stuff from 1900 and 1910 better than stuff from the 40’s and 50’s. Maybe we’re all just doomed to be nostalgic for stuff that existed slightly before our times. Maybe we all want to be our parents and grandparents. Suck on that one for a while. I’m gonna be over here adjusting my spats and hoarding war bonds.

4. In the ‘if I could have dinner with any four people’ question, I am much more concerned with what we’re eating than who is at the table. It had damned well better NOT be vegan, unless we’re eating an actual vegan, which is sorta gamey but has a wonderfully sweet finish.

5. I know why the caged bird sings. It’s because there’s fuck all else to do in a cage. Not really poetic. Not sure why she wasted all that time with it.

6. Snow is the communism of weather. It’s better in theory than reality, puts everyone on the same level in terms of being completely fucked, and leads to shortages of necessary goods and long lines at grocery stores. Also it’s really white, unless it gets all brown and watered down and then just causes travel problems (see Cuba) or yellow and therefore unpleasant to eat (see China, the nation not the food. The food is highly pleasant to eat. Like a vegan. Touched for the very first tiiiime.)

7. If snow is the communism of weather then Willard Scott is the Khrushchev. The smiling face espousing its virtues that every red-blooded American should prefer to see dead.

8. Also Bryant Gumble. The prefer to see dead thing.

9. I graduated high school at 16 only to spend 7 years in undergrad. That’s like winning the lottery and just burning the stack of money. Which come to think of it would be pretty legendary. So it’s really not like that at all.

10. If I could be the best ________________ in the entire world, on most days I think I’d fill in that blank with “dancer”.

11. Favorite fruit is strawberry. Hands down. It’s also my favorite flavor of lots of things (pie, shortcake, body spray.)

12. Is there any other kind of shortcake? Has anyone ever had Pear Shortcake? Or Peach Shortcake? Plum Shortcake? I think not. Plum Shortcake sounds like a pudgy child prostitute from a Dickens novel or something.

13. Still with me after the pudgy child prostitute part? Why? Anyway, I’m pretty serious about loving Kentucky. Tattoo serious (not to be confused with Yahoo Serious.) Who’s with me?

14. My first word was “kitty”. My second word was “welfare.” That pretty much sums me up.

15. Is Bob Barker dead now? I seriously just had to look it up.

16. It occurs to me that the smell of a skunk is perfectly normal to me and yet there are probably people who have never smelled one before. It also occurs to me that I am not sure if skunks and polecats are the same thing. I think they are. I’d love to know how a skunk got to be known as a polecat. Did they used to climb poles? Sit on poles? And do so more than your average cat? Why don’t they do so now? Are skunks even feline? There should be a 25 Skunk facts survey. It would be more interesting than this.

17. This blows. Seriously. Other things like this actually list questions, this one just wants us to create 25 things out of thin air. This is literally the laziest “survey” ever. What kind of survey says “oh, just tell us 25 snippets of whatever you like”? I have a feeling if we look behind the curtain, some Indian Call Center is behind this trying to learn more about the average American so they can play it off when we call to change our phone service.

18. In that case, I, like every American, love the following things: Beef Stroganoff, Turnips,
Rhubarb Pie, Pauly Shore movies, National Hero Nancy Kerrigan, Two and a Half Men, Barry Manilow (he is, after all, the “Hit Man”), our Free National Health Care plan, the brave men and women in our US Congress, Arby’s, Tom Arnold, and poor people.

19. Sadly Arby’s, Tom Arnold, and poor people go hand in hand.

20. A few of my real favorite things: Maker’s Mark, My Morning Jacket, Bobby Darin, Jack Benny, Alfred Hitchcock movies, Bluegrass, The West Wing, Arrested Development, baseball, and Old Time Radio.

21. I play harmonica in my car. I often get laughed at when stopped in traffic. One time an old man was laughing at me, and I got embarrassed, but then he busted out a harmonica of his own in his car. Then the light changed. Watershed moment in my life.

22. I’m much more of a country person than a city person. I told someone that the other day and they were surprised. So now I’m telling you. After the rant on skunk vs. polecat, this should no longer be a surprise.

23. Guilty pleasure is that I love Professional Wrestling. Less guilty pleasure is that I love Professional Whittling.

24. I’d love to start a troublemaking criminal gang with my brothers. Because our last one kinda lost its luster once the fucking Feds caught wind of it.

25. Cincinnati really needs to build a streetcar. But who cares? Cincinnati=poor man’s Newport. The reason Kentucky doesn’t fall into Tennessee is because Ohio sucks.

So let’s get started.

INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS

A lot of what you need to know about Quentin Tarantino can be summed up with that title. The man can’t spell and/or doesn’t care. He likes to do things he thinks are quirky and artsy and doesn’t care to explain himself or to make any apologies for what he does.

It leads to cool things, like the contents of the mysterious briefcase in “Pulp Fiction”. And it leads to annoying things, like the Amanda Plummer line showed at the beginning of “Pulp Fiction” being different when she says it when the scene arrives again in the course of the film. There’s a fine line between art and reality, between doing something to create interest and discussion and doing it simply to be obtuse. It’s a line that has to be handled with a subtle touch, and Quentin Tarantino is about as subtle as a construction worker at a sewing circle. His ham-handed touch is something far less than deft.

What’s annoying or most frustrating is in his films he shows the ability to be a fantastic film maker, but he can never stop getting in his own way. That’s not to say his films aren’t entertaining, in fact they usually are. But I usually end up as frustrated as I do entertained.

“Inglourious Basterds” fits this mold to a T. It is an immensely entertaining film, filled with moments of annoyance and frustration that prevent it from being something I wholly enjoyed or find much more value in than not.

His pipe cracks me up

By way of a quick summary, the film is ostensibly about a group of Jewish mercenaries in World War 2 who strike fear in the Nazis by showing no mercy–scalping, branding, and taking no prisoners with any Nazi group they ambush. But it’s also about a Nazi “Jew Hunter” who relishes in his occupation so much that every one of his seemingly-normal interactions is tinged with the possibility of death-inducing rage and anger exploding out of every pore. And finally it’s about one of his prey who has reason for revenge, and what that prey tries to do to exact said revenge.

Because the film has various storylines and characters, it doesn’t come together as well as it should. I suspect if you see this film expecting to follow and revel in the exploits of the band of Jewish mercenary brothers, you will be disappointed. Their actions are only a smaller part of the larger story. And though the “Jew Hunter” is fantastically played  (at an Oscar level) by Christoph Waltz, he’s only in the film enough to merit consideration for Best Supporting Actor.

The film’s narrative unfolds quite effectively in several 10-15 minute scenes, a couple of which (in a farm house, in a restaurant, in a bar) are the best scenes in the film and at times transcend the film’s overall impact. That impact is why I’m middle of the road on this film. The moments of fantastic filmmaking or performances are balanced out by moments of complete cheesiness, stylistic miscues, and poor performances. For every Christop Waltz, there’s a Mélanie Laurent, who in classic Tarantino fashion is a woman he shoots in closeup and 3/4 shots so much you’d think he thinks she’s Grace Kelly. In this film she’s not deserving of the star treatment, she rolls her eyes and cackles and glams it up just like she was supposed to, but she comes off as annoying, and lost my sympathy. The Guy Ritchie-esque introduction of Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz is cool, and entertaining, but doesn’t fit in a film of extended takes and modest scenes/settings. Nor do a lot of the music selections, anachronistic dialogue, or stylistic choices. I get that this mismash of styles and “cool” film tricks is what makes Tarantino Tarantino. It’s also what makes his films annoying to me. Throwing motor oil onto a canvas and calling it sculpture may be art and entertaining to some people. To me it’s phony and pretentious. And annoying.

This one is all the more frustrating, because what “Inglourious Basterds” shows more than any of his films is that when Tarantino’s urge to be “cool” isn’t getting in his own way, he can be a very very good film maker. But he remains like a precocious child, producing greatness at the same time as showing off, ever in need of dialing back, and, this close to making truly great cinema. The last line is something to the effect of “I think this might just be my masterpiece.” It’s spoken by a character, but it’s clearly self-serving. That sums up Quentin Tarantino. He can’t let you draw your own feelings about his work. He has to carve it into your head himself.

6.5/10

25. Shaun of the Dead
24. Gladiator
23. Sideways
22. In Bruges
21. Lost in Translation
20. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
19. Mulholland Drive
18. Gosford Park
17. O Brother Where Art Thou
16. There Will Be Blood
15. Snatch
14. Borat
13. The Dark Knight
12. Spirited Away
11. The Royal Tenenbaums
10. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
9. Memento
8. Wall-E
7. Slumdog Millionaire
6. The Hurt Locker

Before I get to the top five, I wanted to mention a few films that just missed this list. The last 10 years have given us a lot of good to great films, and for that reason there’s a glut of films that are all close to, but not in, my top 25 films of the decade. So here, in no particular order, are some films deserving of acclaim from the last decade:

CAPOTE :  Absolutely remarkable performance by Phillip Seymour Hoffman in a film that somehow manages to make you care about two brutal murderers. This film is gushing with humanity; it’s understated but it speaks loudly and clearly.

MINORITY REPORT: Some of the best Sci-Fi of the last decade and eerily prescient. I’m not that thrilled with what ultimately becomes a by-the-numbers game of cat and mouse, but there’s a lot going on in this flick that deserves praise and is worth your time for sure.

25th HOUR: Unquestionably Spike Lee’s best film of the last decade, and perhaps the best and most universal of his canon. An incredibly underrated film on many levels. Odds are you haven’t seen it, and you definitely should.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK: This is a film that doesn’t do much, but what it does, it does incredibly well. Sure the message is thinly-veiled. But the subject matter was and is as deserving of committing to celluloid as any of the last century. The lead performance is stellar, David Strathairn is a criminally-underrated actor. His Edward Murrow performance wasn’t an impression or imitation, but he channeled the conviction and fervor of Murrow incredibly. The “B” story, with Robert Downey Junior and Patricia Clarkson, seems tacked on and drags the film down a notch from where it needs to be. But overall, outstanding soundtrack, powerful film, great performances. Clooney knows what he’s doing at the helm.

KNOCKED UP: Ok, I lied. I will rank the films here if only to say this would be number 26 on the list. I guess it’s fair to say this is the Apatow film that speaks to me most. I think it covers various kinds of relationships with ease, and seems to contain humans, not stereotypes, warts and all. It’s not perfect, and the characterizations aren’t as rich as they are in “Sideways” or “Lost in Translation” but they’re damn good, and this is damn funny. Sure, it’s a little syrupy, but I like that about it. I suspect if there had been 10 Best Picture nominations this year this came out like there are now, this would’ve scored one.

PAN’S LABYRINTH: I already talked about this when discussing “Spirited Away”. An incredibly visually-stimulating film. But a film that’s inconsistent emotionally. It’s chock full of emotion, don’t get me wrong, but it’s almost like being in a relationship with inconsistent emotional support in terms of how it makes you feel happy on one had and tragically sad on the other. It works, I recognize what I’m experiencing, but it just seemed like an out-of-focus image to me. One more turn and I think it would’ve been pitch perfect.

THE BOURNE TRILOGY: Perfect blend of style and action substance. The second and third films of the trilogy are actually better than the first, and as a whole the trilogy works on myriad levels. If you’ve ever enjoyed an action film, it would be tough not to enjoy these.

ANCHORMAN: So full of ridiculousness, and yet one of the most memorable comedies of the decade. I know some people hate the giant gang fight 3/4 of the way through the film. To me, that’s the epitome of the sublime silliness that this film captures so perfectly throughout. About the only comic actor from the 00’s missing from this one in some way, shape, or form is Ricky Gervais. I’ll be quoting this one long after other comedies from the decade have faded from memory.

SUPERBAD: Maybe the best juvenile comedy of the last couple of decades. Full of hilarity, yes, but also full of memorable sequences and actual poignancy in the relationship between the two main characters. One of the sweetest stories of a relationship between two teenage male best friends in American cinema, and wrapped up in a downright laugh out loud flick.

THE WRESTLER: Don’t have much to say except this is one of the top 5 acting performances of the decade. Criminal that Mickey Rourke didn’t win Best Actor for it.

Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN: Alfonso Cuarón is a master and this is a near-masterpiece. He found his stroke and hit a grand slam with a film that I’ll talk about momentarily, but this film is no slouch either. Cuarón is Midas-like, his Harry Potter film is the best in the series as well. He just gets it. Anything he directs is worth seeing, and this one is second on his list in my book.

Ok, let’s get to the top five!!

5. THE DEPARTED – 2006

This one is indelibly etched in my memory in so many positive ways. So much so that when my grandmother passed away recently, during the prayer at her graveside, when the priest said the prayer containing the line “and the souls of all the faithful departed”, I was reminded of a brief moment in the film with the prayer, and I was swept away ever so slightly, enough that I wasn’t as sad as I was before I’d been reminded of it.

This is the power of films. Through word, sound, and image, they can take us away like no other. Books are great escapism, but they are limited to what we can imagine. Films show us. And they stay with us, much like faded memories of individuals, or events. We remember snippets, or scenes. The best ones create in our mind emotional associations with images or words or sounds that can trigger waves of emotional memory when accessed again.

Martin Scorsese is a, perhaps THE, modern master at creating these associations. He does it as much through music as he does through image or dialogue, so that the end product of his best films could not exist without the soundtracks. Once you’ve seen it a couple of times, you can watch a Scorsese film on the radio. When you hear songs they’re evocative of what you saw. He does it through image, in a subtle way, so that there’s a snub scene at the end of this film that is a direct call out to one of the most legendary snubs/endings in film history from “The Third Man”. You see it, and you think of the themes of the other film, and how they’re similar, and pretty soon you’re swept away in thought and evaluation. Like I said, Martin Scorsese is a master at creating these associations.

Sure, some of Scorsese’s films, “Casino” for instance, lean heavily on this almost as a device, and come off as sometimes style-laden instead of style-setting.  But “The Departed” strikes a perfect balance between style and substance so that the style is both subtle and superb. The film is paced incredibly well, so that the story of two young men, one on the police force who is secretly working for a gangster, and the other who is working for the gangster but secretly on the police force, never feels dull, and builds to a incredibly-draining climax. It would not develop so well were it not for the way music underscores the interactions of the characters, for the way a simple guitar strum builds tension, to the way a single piece of music interspersed under several scenes makes them feel connected, so fast, and so tight. If you read this story on paper (which I have done via the screenplay) you’d come across confused and detached from the emotional impact of the story. When you see it, it’s marvelous how wonderfully intertwined this parallel story is. It becomes something far greater because of the sum of its parts. Somehow Scorsese has figured out the formula to maximize their impact. It helps that the individual parts are top-notch, great writing, outstanding performances abound (Leo DiCaprio, hat’s off to you for being a legitimately great actor who I used to heap non-stop trash on just because you were “cute”), and an awesome soundtrack that leads to some wonderfully-orchestrated moments. I’m particularly a fan of the live version of “Comfortably Numb”, mainly for the way it goes under the scenes, and then swells back into a crescendo over the images during a sequence that lasts basically the entire 7 or 8 minutes of the song. This is a fantastically well-executed film.

One of the landmark achievements for a director is watching a film and knowing that no one other than them could’ve made it the way it is. That’s what “The Departed” is. It’s a Scorsese. It feels, sounds, looks, and lasts like a Scorsese. And in doing so it presents a film experience that rates and resounds among the top of the last decade, and of all time. Even without my meaning it to, it crept up into my grandmother’s funeral and gave me escapism for a brief second when I needed it most. Pretty impressive.

4. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN – 2007

This one flat knocked me on my ass when I first saw it. I was completely riveted. Mind…blown.What is this? Is it a study of what pure evil can do to a town and the word? Is it about how our actions make us who we are? Is it about how even the best intentions can lead us into peril? Is it about the country as a place and state of mind, or is it about The Country and the state of affairs? It is all of these things and so so much more.

This is the scene I love the best. The ending. Straight out of the book but, when performed by Tommy Lee Jones, one of the single best scenes of the decade.

This is a film (and a wonderful book by Cormac McCarthy) that has more to do with its title than people realize. The film seems to be about drug money and the dogged pursuit of a real life cowboy in a game of finders keepers with one of the purest forms of evil in cinema history. On its surface, it’s a pure chase movie with good guy and bad guy lines fairly clearly drawn. But what it is really about is how this has always been and always will be no country for old men. The scene above, and the scene where Tommy Lee Jones meets with a retired sheriff and they wax poetic about how, even in 1900, this was no country for old men, are the sum of the film to me. That there are forces of nature like Javier Bardem’s character in the world is nothing new. That the older people in society feel time has passed them by is an eternal theme. To the Sherrif Ed’s of the world, things always used to be better.

Why I love this film, why it works so well to me, is in the face of that theme, the film does wonders to make me yearn for the world of MY childhood, that is, the world depicted in the film. The world where small towns, independent drug, furniture, and department stores existed. A world of roadside non-chain motels. A world without Wal-Mart. This is the world of No Country For Old Men. And even though it is inhabited by really, really depraved souls like Anton Chigurh, I found myself yearning for it as I watched the film. So while Tommy Lee Jones’ character yearns for the past, and Josh Brolin’s character has hopes for the future, I find myself yearning for the time in the film. This is one that has a very personal reaction for me. It may not play the same for everyone else.

3. GANGS OF NEW YORK – 2002

It’s difficult to find a place to begin talking about this film, because it encompasses so much, but surely director Martin Scorsese had the same issues with bringing it to screen. It’s a snapshot of the history of crime in New York, as such it fits perfectly into his canon that has examined that issue from all sides in previous films. But it’s also a snapshot of the history of New York itself, and the history of America. In that way it’s about much more than warring Gangs in the Five Points neighborhood of what is now Manhattan. It pulls all of this off well, in ways picturesque and memorable. It’s a true sweeping epic that succeeds at what it tries and suggests a history of our not too distant past that seems altogether foreign and unusual.

The best and most fully-developed villain of the decade is William “The Butcher” Cutting. He’s a man of principles, such as they are; opting to daintily sniff a woman’s hand instead of kissing it, but later nearly bashing someone to death with his own skull to the point his hair is deeply matted with blood. He claims that the only difference between he and his rival Priest Vallon was faith, and he seems to reject all things not “American” but displays a deep reliance on the “ancient laws” of combat, which ostensibly did not come from America. He uses incredibly flowery language to describe his interactions, and yet is barely literate. The last words he speaks in the film are therefore cast onto this puzzling canvas, so that they seem as ironic as they do sincere. It’s an amazing character, and an incredible performance from Daniel Day Lewis. He vamps around the Five Points in a way just shy of complete insanity, but in such a way that you understand this is a man with deeply primal rage and anger simmering just under the surface. Because of this, he’s as scary as he is entertaining. Which is more than we could ask from most film villains. A true monster, and yet not even the true villain in the film. Which brings me to:

The first time I saw this film, I was very confused. It felt long and like it could’ve wrapped up 30 minutes before it did. But that’s because I saw it as a story about the conflict between the “good” bound-for-revenge Amsterdam Vallon and the “evil” Bill The Butcher. What I didn’t realize is their story is just a microcosm; the larger story is the story of the poor in America, specifically New York during the Civil War. While the poor were busy murdering each other over perceived differences, the country was busy grouping them all together and conscripting them into service for a war in which they had no interest in fighting. The larger story is about how the poor found their way during this time, and what their reality was as “Americans”. One of the most memorable sequences of the film shows a boat of Irish coming to American shores for the first time and in one shot pans across the docks to show a line of other Irish being suited up and loaded onto another ship for war, even as caskets of other Irish are being unloaded from the same warship, all the while a singer is lamenting this process in a wonderfully sad Irish Folk song. It’s one of many powerful sequences in the film that stand out more when you realize that this is a film about all the people in the Five Points, not a story about how two of them settle their differences.

In talking about “The Departed” I went into detail about how I feel regarding Scorsese’s use of music in his films. This one is on a whole other level. Because this film is a portrait of America during a time and place, the music is the watercolors or oils Scorsese uses to paint that portrait. It’s a history of American music, with over 100 different pieces of period music, from African rhythms to Irish dances, from Chinese ceremonials to Chamber music. If America is a melting pot, then when we see in the film are all the ingredients being melted into that pot, and what we hear are combinations not heard before, and not heard since. We see and hear the interactions between elements that have brought us to where we are today, as a nation physically and musically.

This was a bit of an opus for Scorsese, who first conceived it in 1978 and thought of casting John Belushi as Bill The Butcher. It remained in flux throughout the 80’s (Mel Gibson and Willem Dafoe were also attached). The production design was no less epic; Scorsese built the entire Five Points set at Cine’Citta in Rome, and George Lucas remarked he could’ve done it on a computer. But, then, this film was nominated for 11 Oscars, something George Lucas knows next to nothing about, so I am not sure we should take that seriously.

It’s a sprawling, outlandish, instructive, and entertaining masterpiece of a film. This will be one I’ll remember as an American masterpiece and an American story. It doesn’t matter that everything in the story isn’t technically true, or that the microcosm story of the characters isn’t as rewarding as one might hope, or that the love story in the film feels tacked on. The devil in this film isn’t in the details of the story, it’s in the details of the film. The costumes, the sets, the shots and suggestions. The overall imagery and impact are significant, and earn their place in my top 5 favorite of the last 10 years. What Scorsese has done with this film is to cast history in certain tones, so that the memories this film creates are more lasting than actual history. No small feat, but no less than should be expected from perhaps our greatest living director.

2. CHILDREN OF MEN – 2006

When a film chills you to the core, when you’re swept away from your reality to a reality that is slightly different and yet seems utterly real, when a film reaches up and shocks the conscience like “Children of Men” does, there is only to sit back and take it in for the experience it is.

There’s a sequence in “Children of Men” that in my humble opinion ranks among the most amazing in film history. It’s a long tracking shot, single take, about 3/4 of the way through the film. Just 6 or 7 minutes of non-stop action and intensity, as the camera follows our character through a mess of dangerous insanity. When it finally stops, when there’s a moment that brings it all to a halt, I found my eyes welled up with tears. It occurred to me afterwards that without cutting, without editing, the emotions in the scene just built up. I was completely wrapped up in the scene because I hadn’t been taken away from it, so that when the character stopped for breath, when the action stopped for the most incredible of reasons, I was an emotional mess.

This is a film that is a masterpiece at doing exactly that: knowing how to manipulate the true emotions of the viewers. It knows more about viewer’s emotions than we as viewers do. It accomplishes this manipulation through style as much as substance; indeed there’s such a blend of the two here that it’s difficult to say where one stops and the other begins. The world in which the film takes place is so richly imagined, things are going on in the background that are horrible and are just there. The lead character stumbles through a screaming, gun shooting, militant Islamic funeral without comment. There’s a burning pile of bodies by a country road that’s passed without comment. Immigrants are kept in cages in public areas and observed, without comment. This is reality. It’s dystopian, but it’s also close enough to realistic that it’s incredibly scary.

The premise of the film: that a worldwide problem caused people to cease being able to have children shortly after 2009, is lush with possibilities that are fully flushed out here. So in a world without human children, people dote on their pets. Everyone and I mean everyone in the film has one. And no one makes a point to say “we have pets because we don’t have kids” but the fact is there and you can’t ignore it. When the lead character visits his uber-rich brother, we see his brother has taken to recreating Pink Floyd album covers on grand scale with his money, because there’s no one to pass it on to and therefore no sense in saving it. Again, this isn’t so much said as just shown. The film trusts us to make the conclusions to the questions it also trusts us to ask. And much of the greater story of the film is told through newspaper headlines, background images, and broadcasts. There’s a fully imagined world in this story, we only see some of it, but we FEEL all of it.

Clive Owen finally plays a “good” guy here, but he can’t help but run from his somewhat shady sensibilities, so that he feels like an accidental hero (one who fakes emotion when convenient but also one who can’t hide it when it’s there.) People come running from the woods with rocks and torches. The graffiti on the walls aside the train tracks says “last one to die please turn out the light” (which you see if you’re looking for it but can pass you by if you don’t; this is a film that rewards depth of analysis like few from the last ten years), and England is somehow the only place on earth worth living any more. All the world has gone to pot and from this Owen must find some glimmer of hope and focus on it. This is just a remarkable film.

I find it difficult to pinpoint any weakness in this film. I think time will only enhance its genius. I am in awe of it every time I watch it. There’s a morning getaway scene that was clearly captured just as the sun was coming up in one incredible take that you sense they were extremely lucky to get. It feels like guerilla filmmaking at times, as though the camera crew were embedded with Clive Owen as he was thrust into chaos through no real choice of his own. It ends quietly, and powerfully, just as it should. The performances are stout all around, Michael Caine is particularly remarkable as an aging political cartoonist who brings much-needed levity to the film. He claims to have based his performance on John Lennon and it has that feel for sure, but there’s a bit of George Carlin there too. Julianne Moore is perfect as a revolutionary with an agenda Clive Owen only discovers the true nature of when it’s too late to turn away.

But the true star of this film, besides the world that’s created, is the creator of the film’s world himself, Director Alfonso Cuarón. Put simply, this is the best imagined, best directed film of the last 10 years. His touch is Midas-like, and his artist’s brush is nearly unrivaled. Everything in this film is there for a deeper reason. Everything going on adds depth, not just background. I imagine Cuarón working with extras to come up with backstories just so there could be a point in their work should anyone choose to look at it. I had a legitimately hard time not ranking this one number one on the list. If you haven’t seen it, I implore you to sit down, clear your mind, and take it in. And then see it again. It’s harrowing, uplifting, and sad. It’s dystopian and yet seems real. It’s scary. It’s incredible. It’s number two on this list, barely.

Which brings us to Number One…

1. CITY OF GOD – 2002

In Rio De Janerio, a city many of us view with a paradise-like tilt to our thinking, the Brazilian government decided the best thing to do was to isolate the poor from the city center. So 15 miles outside the city, they built housing projects, without water, and without much thought other than, “let’s get the poor out of our city.” Perhaps with irony and perhaps not, one of these projects is called The City of God. It is here in which the film takes place, and it is the stories of these people we experience in the film.

There are 8 million stories in the City of God. And just as many ways to tell them. Why this film soars is how it chooses to do so. Namely, with reckless energy that shows us, not tells us, what’s going on, and doesn’t linger and allow us to pity or be sad. It’s a film bursting with life, so much so that even as lives are lost on screen, we press on without much sadness or regret. This is a film that just sweeps you away, instead of allowing you to linger and be emotionally distraught at what you’re seeing.

The result is a phenomenal film experience. Lessor films suffer the pitfalls of trying to capture emotions and create certain feelings through imagery, editing, etc. This film is concerned only with telling stories. And it pulls out every single stop in doing so. It’s been compared to Scorsese’s landmark “Goodfellas” and  it is on that rarified level that this film does its work. As one memorable story after another unfolds, you give up trying to see narrative arcs, a clean story, etc, and just revel in what the film is. It’s not purposefully confusing like “Memento”. It doesn’t play incessant fill-in-the-blank narrative games like “Pulp Fiction”. You just get lost in the stories not because you are confused, but because you’re swept away. It manages to interweave the stories of a cast every bit as large as “Gosford Park” has, and in doing so is off the charts in terms of success. It’s a masterpiece of storytelling, and there’s not a film from the last 10 years on par with it in that regard.

The common element to all these stories, the narrator, is a young boy self-named “Rocket” who grows up in the City of God with an interest in photography. He knows all the stories, he lived many of them and heard the rest, and he’s recounting them to us, so they’re all interconnected. In this way “Slumdog Millionaire” owes much to “City of God”, the main character being a young man who has lived through many tales he has to tell. But where “Slumdog” develops a device to elicit those stores (albeit a device that works fantastically) in “City of God” there is no device, there is no need. You’re just here to watch the stories unfold, there is no greater story. What has happened IS the greater story, because it has brought our character to where he is, and the stories develop in such a way that the last one he tells, in fact the greatest one, is a product of all the others. He’s telling the stories of everyone else, but the larger story is HIS story. It works fantastically.

This is a joy to watch. It’s incredibly “cool” and yet also easily accessible. It’s visually stimulating and inventive in the way only the best films are. It is like “Gangs of New York” and Dickens in that it has a two cities aspect to it, but it doesn’t make that the message. In fact there is no message. And that’s probably what is best about this film. It plays like you’re an observer of what’s going on without attempting to elicit any outcome other than letting you see what the character experienced.  It just presents a glimpse, a vibrant, cool as tinted sunglasses, glimpse, at these stories, at what the main character knows. I could watch it for days on end and not be bored.

Another significant way the film elicits this escapism is by using unknowns. Like in “The Hurt Locker”, because we don’t know these actors, we are given to just accepting what they are doing here, and now, and not burdened by what we’ve known them to do in the past. The end result is characters who last in our memory, not the actors who played them. Really, the two are indelibly linked once we’re done.

What I hope you’re getting a sense of is that this film is like many others that were on this list. It’s just better, more taut, and ultimately more entertaining than the rest. When I sat down to evaluate them, I couldn’t rightly rank it behind films on the list that I just can tell you it’s flat out better than in my book. At the end of the day, I feel comfortable about saying it wins this comparison with every film on my list. In 10 years, hopefully, “Children of Men” will be no closer to reality and thus won’t have the added benefit of hindsight. If things continue to approach where that film goes, I could see it surpassing “City of God” because of that. But barring that, this film will remain and stick out to me as the best of what the last 10 years had to offer. It’s an outstandingly entertaining film. Not rip-roaring hilarious, not heart-warming, or heart-wrenching, or anything. Just an incredible story told incredibly. Watch it for yourself.

Well, that wraps up my list. Thanks for reading. And be on the lookout for my top 100 list resuming in 2010. I’ll also attempt the auspicious task of reviewing every film I see, and there will be plenty more to come on anything else I see fit to put fingers to keyboard about. Happy New Year!

25. Shaun of the Dead

24. Gladiator

23. Sideways

22. In Bruges

21. Lost in Translation

20. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

19. Mulholland Drive

18. Gosford Park

17. O Brother Where Art Thou

16. There Will Be Blood

15. Snatch

14. Borat

13. The Dark Knight

12. Spirited Away

11. The Royal Tenenbaums

Before I get started, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a film that won’t be on this list due to timing, but absolutely is one of the top 25 films of the last 10 years. And 15 years. And 20 years. And so on.

AVATAR

“Avatar” is really one of the most significant achievements in film history. I honestly feel it’s on par with “The Wizard of Oz” and “Star Wars” in terms of what it does to films as we know them. What James Cameron has done with “Avatar” is simply stunning. Enough praise can’t be heaped on Cameron for what he’s created here. Almost none of the pitfalls of CGI or motion captured animation are present here. In fact Cameron has made CGI the true asset it can be, sharpening the focus by inventing cameras, and heightening the emotion of the characters in the same way.

My friend Andrew Brenner is fond of pointing out that when you pop in “Terminator 2” and look at the effects in that movie, they stand the test of time. I think part of the reason that’s true is Cameron was years ahead of his time then. He’s light years ahead of it here. The 3D is both subtle and enrapturing, and never overtly annoying. The CGI is both stunning and completely acceptable as normal. What stands out is not glitches, but beauty. What pops off the screen is not explosions on the planet, it’s the exploration of the planet. And the love story works, developing through a wonderful montage, and earning emotion through the evolution of a hardened female warrior into a loving, and yet still badass, female warrior.

People are taking potshots at the story or dialogue, but would anyone take potshots at the story and dialogue of “The Wizard of Oz”? Really, how cheesy is “There’s no place like home…” when it comes right down to it?  And isn’t “Star Wars”, as famed cultural historian and overall genius and gift to the world Joseph Campbell observed, just a story of archetypes that resonates with tales from the ages? So what if “Avatar” is similar to other tales? So is the bible. So is “The Wizard of Oz”. So are so many of our great works. The hero has a thousand faces, but the hero’s journey is as timeless as the earth. And, yeah, the film has Sci-Fit conventions, guess what, it’s a SCIENCE FICTION movie. Of course it’s going to have conventions. This film succeeds and exceeds not because its story is conventional, but because the stage on which the conventions play out is historically magnificent, and anything but conventional.

Eat me

Through the criticism this film is enduring, I am starting to wonder if anyone ever sits back and just lets themselves ENJOY something for once anymore? Why does everything have to be a constant analysis of why something disappointed you, instead of a focus on what something does to entertain you? I suspect that, if you’re hating on this film, you’re not SEEING it, just like the main character wasn’t seeing things before he learned to focus on the beauty in them. “Avatar” is a tremendously beautiful film. If it doesn’t make you feel like a kid again, it’s because you aren’t letting it. It’s FINE to think critically, but why not think positively once in awhile? There’s room for both.

Put it this way, there’s beauty in a symphony and beauty in a piano sonata. Yes, the symphony is more complex and succeeds on more levels, and you could look at the sonata and just say it wasn’t as good as the symphony because it didn’t do anything on the oboe, or the woodwinds, or didn’t have a chorus, etc. Or you could just stop hating and enjoy the sonata for what it is.

“Avatar” doesn’t have the best acting this side of “A Streetcar Named Desire”. It’s not the best-written or most original story since “Being John Malkovitch.” But I wish people would stop hating on what it isn’t, and instead revel in the wonder of what it is. You know, maybe enjoy the beauty of the sonata, instead of complaining it’s not a full symphony.

With that off my chest, let’s get on with the list:

10. ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND – 2004

The most unlikely “love story” of the films on this list, and also the highest ranked from the genre included here.

This is a tremendously wacky and yet grippingly emotional film. It resonates for anyone who has loved and lost. It confronts the central question “Is it better to have loved and lost, or never loved before” by making that an option. What if, after a particularly painful breakup, you could erase all memories of the person from your head? If you could shake your head like an Etch-A-Sketch and erase all etchings of previous times, would you? And what would be the consequences?

The characters in this film confront these questions directly. They find out the pain and power in their answers. And it’s a hell of an emotional roller coaster. Jim Carrey, perhaps never more vulnerable and real than he is here, and Kate Winslet, who basically has to act her way out of being irresistible, are more than up to the task of letting these questions drive a narrative of their love for one another. It’s anything but a conventional romantic comedy, and yet if not for the conventions the film presents, it would not be the same. This isn’t a “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back and they live happily ever after” story. It’s more of a “boy loses girl, boy wants to forget girl, girl wants to forget boy, but maybe they don’t, and maybe they won’t lose each other, but maybe they will, boy meets girl, boy loses girl?” kinda story. Yeah, it’s that heart-wrenchingly twisted. C’est la vie.

"Meet me in Montauk..."

This film also confronts the issue of the relationship between love and destiny. Is love just something that happens chemically at a pre-determined date and time—a unique combustion of elements based on environmental conditions, or is it something that is bound to happen organically at any date and time based on the natural connection of the people involved? Or is it both?

Speaking of a unique combination of elements that produce combustion, this film is a perfect combination of writer and director. Michael Gondry was born to work with Charlie Kaufman, and vice versa. Their writing output in this film won them an Academy Award in 2005, and it was well deserved. They were able to craft here a film that directly, deftly, and beautifully confronts whether time, or forgetfulness, cures all wounds, and whether purposeful forgetfulness is rather like amputating your arm to cure a hangnail. How do we get over a tragic relationship? Can we? Is there truly eternal sunshine in a spotless mind? Watch this film, and tell me what you think.

9. MEMENTO – 2000

Another film that confronts issue with memory head on. Well, as head on as it can, for a character whose brain basically resets every 15 minutes. It would be hard enough to live life like that. To solve a murder mystery with this condition is a feat worthy of Sherlock Holmes. And to make a cohesive, coherent, and impeccable film with a main character suffering thusly is no small feat for a director either. But Christopher Nolan is no slouch as a director (he’s one of three that manage to get 2 films on this top 25 list.) This is his best work.

I don’t want to say much more about this film, lest I spoil it. But I will say as a suspense film, it manages to find suspense and let the story unfold in unique ways. Instead of the premise being a cage to a bird, it’s a set of wings. What Nolan does with the premise is truly fantastic. The lead performance by Guy Pearce is excellent. It’s one worth watching several times, and will reward you for doing so. If you haven’t even seen it once, make a point of doing so soon.

Here’s what I said when including it on my top 100 films list:

The tricks films can pull with a narrative to make you identify with the main character are numerous, but Memento takes those tricks to a whole new level. If you don’t walk away from this film feeling as rattled as the main character must, then I question your humanity. This film has all the elements of a classic suspense film, but the concept is so unique that it presents something entirely rare in modern cinema–something new. It speaks to and represents the unique talents of Christopher Nolan, and announced to filmgoers that this was a man whose unique views and voice will impact cinema as long as he chooses to work. If you haven’t seen this film, go into it with and open mind and prepare to have that mind blown. I don’t want to say anything more lest I ruin the film’s numerous twists.

8. WALL-E – 2008

Wall-E the character is one of the sweetest heroes of the Zeros. Wall-E the film is possibly the greatest animated film of all time.

If you missed this, or wrote it off as a kids movie, you should make it a point to see it as soon as possible. Its first hour, almost completely void of dialogue, is full of a sense of wonder I’ve rarely experienced in a film, animated or otherwise. It’s a sweet film, a touching film, and a funny film. It has something to say with very few words, and it says it with a longing and some staying power. That it does so as a cartoon makes if one of the best films of any decade. We’ll see whether it represents where animated movies end up going, or merely where they can go. It was nominated for a writing Oscar for crying out loud, as a cartoon, with few words.

There’s a heart in this film that’s present in Pixar’s “Up”. But “Up” just wasn’t as powerful a film as “Wall-E” (though, really, those first 10 or so minutes of “Up” are outstanding.). We’re really splitting hairs here, but “Wall-E” made me feel more for a trash compacting, assembly line, robot than I did for any of the humans in the film, or, hell, any of the humans in most films. The glory’s in the soundtrack, and in sequences like this:

It’s a Sci-Fi story, and not a bad one at that. But mostly it’s just a beautiful film. Well fucking done.

7. SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE – 2008

My first impression of this film is that the narrative was perfect. Is it slightly attenuated? Sure. Is it a little over the top? Maybe. But those questions are just obliterated from your mind due to the mastery of pace and photography in this film. So many people I’ve talked to about the film remark that they can’t believe that the poverty in India is so desperate (it’s probably worse.) Others talk about the film’s wonderful fairy-tale love story. Still others have marveled at the wonderful performances of completely unknown young actors. For me, the film succeeds in all of these ways, and the sum total of these fantastic elements is a film where the strengths completely outshine the weaknesses.

The story is sweeping, the locations epic, and it is the narrative structure that is both a fantastic (and somewhat unique) device and why this film works so well. The division of the story allows it to be so many things–drama, romance, action, thriller–without spending too much time becoming just one of them.

which of these things does not belong...

Director Danny Boyle creates consistently interesting and unique films (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, Millions) that don’t rely on star power or $150 million budgets. That he does so with such skill and deft hands also speaks to why this film works so well as a culmination of his work to date.

This film will be remembered as the little film that could; winning the Best Picture seemed as unlikely as the exploits of the film’s protagonist. And yet this film earned every measure of respect it got. It is somewhat similar, in fact I’d say heavily influenced, by another film still to come on this list (more on that next week) but it’s far from derivative. The best film from a year that put four films on this list. Not too shabby.

6. THE HURT LOCKER – 2009

“War is a drug.”

This phrase begins 2009’s masterpiece “The Hurt Locker” and it also sums up the essential nature of the film. This is a war movie, yes, but it’s not about tactics, it doesn’t preach a message, it doesn’t condemn or pontificate. It simply shows how an elite bomb defusing squad goes about their business. And in showing the how, it subtlely and masterfully gets at the why. Thus “War is a drug.”

There is so much worthy of praise in this film. Director Kathryn Bigelow  delivers suspense on par with Hitchcock. And she does it through simply showing what’s happening, by giving the audience a glimpse into the day to day of this squad’s lives. Characters do die, explosions do happen, such that it’s clear from the word go, every situation is life or death. Every situation. Every day. That may be the reality of certain squads in war, but perhaps never has it hit home harder than it does in this film. And with that being quickly established as the reality, every single time the crew goes out you’re gripped in suspense. The film style helps, it’s shot much like a documentary would be. You can feel the heat of the desert and the tenseness of every scene exploding through the screen. It’s an almost perfectly-made film. And it can’t be overlooked that it was written largely as a result of a journalist embedded with this very type of unit and character for years. This is a film that knows what it is doing, and why. It knows what the characters go through, and it shows us.

Yes, the days are long and fraught with peril. Every interaction could mean your life. So who would want to cast their lot into such a situation? This film introduces us to three clear characters, and their involvement mirrors the types of people that get involved in drugs (since, after all, “war is a drug.”) There’s the simple experimenters who quickly, and too late, realize the drug is not for them. There’s the calm customers who think they have their usage under control, but are really lying to themselves and others. And then there’s the full-blown junkies, who live for the fix, and who can’t be persuaded to look out for their own safety. How each of these characters displays these characteristics, and why, is another fantastic element of the film.

Jeremy Renner(left), and Anthony Mackie star in "The Hurt Locker"

The cast contains mostly unknowns, which both adds to the cinema verite style and allows for a clean slate on which these actors can work. We don’t associate them as any other character, so these characters are more memorable, and more real. Despite being unknown, they turn in better performances than anyone would expect. Academy Award deserving performances, especially from Jeremy Renner as the squad’s leader. And speaking of Academy Awards, there’s some serious talent popping up in cameo appearances here: Guy Pearce, Ralph Fiennes et al show up, and in doing so suggest that this film is a seriously impressive project.

In a decade that will be remembered for war and violent acts, that the most impressive war film isn’t a condemnation (like “All Quiet on the Western Front” was in the 30’s) or satire (like Dr. Strangelove or “M.A.S.H.” were in the 60’s and 70’s) of war can’t be overlooked. The 00’s will be remembered for the burst of “reality” and instant coverage of news. Citizen Journalism is normal now, shaky hand-held camera shots inside insurgent camps are standard. Into this realm, “The Hurt Locker” casts its dice as a “real” depiction of what an elite bomb diffusion squad is, and why. It is both of this era, and timeless. It could very well win Best Picture in 2009, it’s the highest ranked (and only) film from 2009 on this list, and no less than James Cameron himself proclaims this “the Platoon for the Iraq war.” An outstanding film of all genres, and an incredible war film.

And don’t forget to check out Andrew Brenner’s list. He’s getting prolific with this stuff.

No more ado. Here we go.

NUMBER 80 – L.A. CONFIDENTIAL (1997)

Here’s another film like The Royal Tenenbaums that is just perfectly put together. The casting is almost a dream, and the performances are fantastic (Kim Basinger in an Academy Award winning role, plus Russell Crowe, Guy Peace AND Kevin Spacey all shine.) Director Curtis Hanson must be independently wealthy—he’s only made 4 films in the decade since L.A. Confidential. Either that or he put all he had creatively into this one. Either way, this film is alive. The sets and set decoration capture a vibe of 1950’s L.A. leaping right out of stock footage and the pages of pulp magazines and tabloids (it should come as no surprise that Hanson based a ton of what he did visually on old videos, photographs, and postcards.) But seeing those scenes come to life with actual, three-dimensional characters, and one heck of a well-imagined thrilling story, is just icing on the visual cake. To me this film is a masterpiece because the story works so well you don’t even notice everything else that went into the film technically, and yet you can really appreciate it merely for the technical aspects as well if you choose to (the DVD notably has a “music only” audio track, the only such track I’ve seen on a DVD.)

The film’s “Welcome to Los Angeles” 2:45 opening sequence perfectly sums up exactly the style and tone this film succeeds at on the highest level. One of the best films of the 90’s.

NUMBER 79 – SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE (2008)

which of these things does not belong...

My first impression of this film is that the narrative was perfect. Is it slightly attenuated? Sure. Is it a little over the top? Maybe. But those questions are just obliterated from your mind due to the mastery of pace and photography in this film. So many people I’ve talked to about the film remark that they can’t believe that the poverty in India is so desperate (it’s probably worse.) Others talk about the film’s wonderful fairy-tale love story. Still others have marveled at the wonderful performances of completely unknown young actors. For me, the film succeeds in all of these ways, and the sum total of these fantastic elements is a film where the strengths completely outshine the weaknesses. The story is sweeping, the locations epic, and it is the narrative structure that is both a fantastic (and somewhat unique) device and why this film works so well. The division of the story allows it to be so many things–drama, romance, action, thriller–without spending too much time becoming just one of them.

Director Danny Boyle creates consistently interesting and unique films (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, Millions) that don’t rely on star power or $150 million budgets. That he does so with such skill and deft hands also speaks to why this film works so well as a culmination of his work to date. He still looks funny as hell (and completely superimposed) in this picture though…

NUMBER 78 – THE EXORCIST (1971)

Legitimately the scariest film of all time. And it makes its bones on atmosphere—lighting, songs, sound, not merely on effects (though Linda Blair’s head spinning around remains freaky to this day, and the effects are notable.) This is a masterwork of horror. It’s psychological. It’s freaky. At its time, it was something truly new in terms of the levels of disturbance it captures. Adjusted for inflation, it’s the highest-grossing R rated film of all time. It is scary because it’s at least partially believable—Warner Brothers had to hire private security for Linda Blair after she received death threats for her portrayal as the possessed 13 year old girl that is the subject of the title action. Yes, a 13 year old actress got death threats. And Billy Graham claimed there was an actual demon living in the celluloid reels of the film. Quite simply, this is a disturbing, impactful, horror flick. It wasn’t even available in the UK until 1999!

Nominated for 10 Oscars (a horror film nominated for 10 Oscars) including acting, writing, directing and others related to the fantastic production of the film. This one is just uber-disturbing. It stays with you.

NUMBER 77 – BLOWUP (1966)

Sometimes reality is the strangest fantasy of all. That’s the tagline from the original trailer for this film, and it’s a perfect summation of what this film captures so perfectly.

Director Michelangelo Antonioni is a forgotten master of the art film, the film that is free to leave open-ended questions in its narrative and mean different things to different people. Blowup is a fantastic example of such a film, centered around a London Fashion photographer who may (or may not) have captured a murder in some random still photographs he took. I saw this in a theater with three other people. Two of us were completely blown away by it, one person was completely befuddled, and the other person was angry. It’s a rare film that engenders such varied and passionate responses, responses that closely mirror individual responses to our own reality.

This is admittedly not a film for everyone. But it stands as a landmark to me for what it says about our view of reality, or, rather, what we say about it, why we say it, and how that manifests in our actions. Antonioni chose a London Mod Fashion photographer in the late 60’s because of the somewhat-warped reality that scenario already presents. Where he goes with it will either bore you to tears, or really put you in an existential mood for a week or two. Like reality, it depends on how you interpret it.

NUMBER 76 – THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY (1966)

I consider this to be one of the most all-around well made scenes in film history. This movie almost makes this list on this scene alone. Warning, this is from the end of the film. Contains spoilers.

In case you haven’t noticed by now, I am a big fan of music, sound, camera. Dialogue is way down on the list of why I appreciate films. This scene is incredible for the integration of different camera angles, the editing to the pace and build of the music, and the use of cuts to build intensity and emotional involvement.

The whole film is this way, an incredible harmonic convergence of sight, sound, song, and performance. It has been hailed as the greatest Western of all time, and several well known directors have labeled it the best directed film of all time. It deserves every ounce of praise it gets. I honest to God get chills watching that scene every single time. I don’t know if they shot it then scored it, or shot it TO the score. I like to think it’s the latter. If I made movies, this is absolutely how I would make them. So much of the Western genre is wrapped up in location, natural sounds, etc. This film does everything it should and is absolutely a top example of America’s most personal genre.

NUMBER 75 – THE LODGER: A STORY OF THE LONDON FOG (1927)

An early Hitchcock classic. And if you haven’t guessed it, there are going to be a ton of Hitchcock films on this list. That this checks in as the lowest-ranked one should not be seen as me somehow thinking it deserves less than stellar praise. It’s also the first, though it won’t be the last, silent film on the list.

Part of the reason I value this film so much is that it is silent. Hitchcock, known to all as the master of suspense, without sound or score (though most versions are scored) shows how simple camera work, lighting, and editing can build suspense. This is like listening to Beethoven create a masterpiece with just the piano and viola. You really appreciate the individual parts more when some of them are removed. Why THE LODGER is also important is while so many silent films make their bones on grandiose themes, or melodramtic acting or situations; THE LODGER is a straight suspense story told by a master.

It’s a technically instructive film, but it’s also a great one if you’re into suspense. The story is so renowned that it has been made into several films—this is the best of the bunch. And the full title should be appreciated, “A Story of the London Fog”. Hitchcock realized that this film isn’t just about the characters, or, rather, he realized that the city ITSELF is a character. That’s the sort of realization that takes his entertainment to the level of art.

You can watch all of THE LODGER on youtube, in 9 parts.

NUMBER 74 – A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE (1951)

12 Academy Award nominations. An outstanding cast playing roles they were born to play, and first played on stage. A director in Elia Kazan who understood how to build the tension and raw emotion of the film in small ways, having directed the stage show himself prior to helming the film. A fantastic score and a film that is just filled with sensuality and natural heat. It’s fitting that the film is set in New Orleans, and fitting that the lead character, portrayed incredibly by Vivien Leigh, are so full of passion that a film can barely contain them.

There is so much in this film that is just absolutely pitch perfect with the performances of the actors. In fact it won three Academy Awards for acting alone, a near rarity in cinematic history. And, notably, this is the film that basically introduced the force of nature that was/is Marlon Brando to audiences. The performances absolutely hum because of another rarity—nearly the entire Broadway cast was used in the film. It’s a tribute to the talent of Vivian Leigh that her stellar performance was the only main role with a replacement actor from stage to screen. It can’t have been easy to step into a well-oiled machine like that.

Kazan is a master of the little things. Little things like how the set of the Kowalski apartment actually gets smaller as the film goes on to heighten the suggestion of Blanche’s increasing claustrophobia. Little things like shooting this masterpiece in under 40 days. His touch is deft, not heavy-handed, and the results are fantastic. There just aren’t too many films where the performances of the actors shine so amazingly, so legendarily. Mix in an incredible score and some of the most memorable dialogue in film history, and you have a screen classic.

NUMBER 73 – NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN (2007)

The film is memorable for so many things—the lack of a score, the fantastically chilling performance of Javier Bardem, the film’s theme of the unstoppable nature of evil. But it’s this scene, the ending, that means the most to me. Spoiler free.

This is a film (and a wonderful book by Cormac McCarthy) that has more to do with its title than people realize. The film seems to be about drug money and the dogged pursuit of a real life cowboy in a game of finders keepers with one of the purest forms of evil in cinema history. On its surface, it’s a pure chase movie with good guy and bad guy lines fairly clearly drawn. But what it is really about is how this has always been and always will be no country for old men. The scene above, and the scene where Tommy Lee Jones meets with a retired sheriff and they wax poetic about how, even in 1900, this was no country for old men, are the sum of the film to me. That there are forces of nature like Javier Bardem’s character in the world is nothing new. That the older people in society feel time has passed them by is an eternal theme. To the Sherrif Ed’s of the world, things always used to be better.

Why I love this film, why it works so well to me, is in the face of that theme, the film does wonders to make me yearn for the world of MY childhood, that is, the world depicted in the film. The world where small towns, independent drug, furniture, and department stores existed. A world of roadside non-chain motels. A world without Wal-Mart. This is the world of No Country For Old Men. And even though it is inhabited by really, really depraved souls like Anton Chigurh, I found myself yearning for it as I watched the film. So while Tommy Lee Jones’ character yearns for the past, and Josh Brolin’s character has hopes for the future, I find myself yearning for the time in the film. This is one that has a very personal reaction for me. It may not play the same for everyone else.

NUMBER 72 – LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL (1997)

A whimsical comedy set in a concentration camp, and its interplay and meaning with the film’s title, are what makes this film a classic. The setting of the second half of the film seems unconventional for a comedy, but it is this tragic setting that allows the film to do what the very best comedies do—punch us in the gut as they tickle our ribs. Benigni spins a perfect story featuring both sides of the tragedy/comedy coin. In fact he spins this so well that what results is a something new—like the thanatropic Victorian cards with a bird on one side and a cage on the other that create a new image when spun.

The story, a father who convinces his son through fables and lies that the horrors going on around them during holocaust era World War II are part of one big game, is sweet. The father is played so well with equal parts tenderness, self-delusion, hilarity, and poignancy by Benigni himself that it’s tougher to say which deserves more renown–his acting or his direction.

This film plays like a bittersweet fable. Like a lyrical poem that flows in waves of emotion (both “good” and “bad”) and challenges the viewer to find the good in the bad. The title is not preachy, in fact it’s subtle. If a father can watch the horrors in a concentration camp and find ways to clown for his son to make him laugh, then certainly life is beautiful. Benigni will be remembered for his Oscar acceptance antics (leaping onto the tops of seats, jumping on stage and telling Sophia Loren that he wanted to be with her in no uncertain terms, crying like a baby, you know…being Italian), but he should be remembered in general for his joie de vie. He seems like a man who truly lives the belief that life is beautiful, and with this film he’s made a masterpiece that should help us feel the same way.

NUMBER 71 – JAWS (1975)

Not to spoil the rest of the list, but you aren’t going to find a Speilberg film anywhere on it other than this one.  What that means more than anything is I appreciate how well made this film really is. Considering most of his other films for me are big budget disappointments, this film shows that, at least at some point, Speilberg knew how to make movies as something other than a hack who uses the same old tricks dressed up with the newest CGI and special effects.

This is not to say I don’t appreciate the difficulty of managing a production with a huge budget. It’s more to say that Speilberg gains more of my respect as an artist with a film like Jaws.  Here he generates the suspense through camera work (including the famous p.o.v. of the shark) and legendarily memorable score. He gets the most out of every inch of his sets, namely boats, and his actors. There’s a reason Jaws is better than Deep Blue Sea, a film with better effects and a much greater budget. That’s because Speilberg, rightly, recognized that the suspense is in the filmmaking style, not in the effects.

Alfred Hitchcock legendarily opined that to make a film involving the Titanic disaster and have it have any real suspense, he would open the film with a shot of a single rivet and pull back the shot slowly to reveal the entire boat. The suspense comes from how the effects and sets are presented, not the effects or the sets themselves, and not even always the story. Speilberg knew this in Jaws. He knew he would not be able to make the shark itself convincing to the point of horror, so he made the specter of the shark the source of the terror. He made the suspense and terror psychological, not merely shocking. And he does it so well in Jaws that it is clear this child of America’s “Golden Age” of Radio/TV/Film knows how to work it, which only makes his later films that rely on devices and effects aka big budgets all the more frustrating. I’m not sure he’ll ever do better than Jaws.

NUMBER 70 – THE GENERAL (1927)

Building off of how a master can work within small spaces, or with situations to create things wholly new and fantastic, we have this true comic masterpiece from the Silent Era. It’s enjoyable both from a sheer entertainment standpoint, and it’s a completely fantastic spectacle from a cinematic and comedic standpoint.

The film centers around a chase sequence featuring two trains on the same track. You know, the kind of chase sequence where the pursuer can never overtake the pursued. But this doesn’t matter to Keaton at all, nor does the limited space in which he is able to ply his trade during that sequence. Instead, as a director, he keeps coming up with new situations for his character to make the audience laugh. As an actor he’s a true artist of found comedy—rather than creating it as other masters like Chaplin do, Keaton simpy creates low-key, reliable characters who find themselves in situations that produce laughs. He’s not better than us yet one of us like many great artists, he’s actually one of us. He’s understated. He’s subtle. And this film more than any of his show why he’s a comic genius.

There are so many notable shots and sequences in this film. Films today that are so dialogue heavy to generate laughs are funny, but few films, comedic or otherwise, contain the ingenuity of Keaton’s. It’s been noted that his films mesh perfectly and flow so well that they are like music. To have said that about a silent film speaks to Keaton’s genius as well. This film makes the list because it contains what I feel is his best story, his most daring stunts, and some of his most truly ingenious comic scenarios. In the silent film era, many scenes were written around gags—pratfalls, physical comedy, props, etc. But in this film you won’t find just that. Instead you will find situations in which an everyman finds himself and is faced with opportunities and dangers. Where Keaton finds laughs in those situations is what makes this film legendary.

Can be viewed entirely on youtube, but the quality isn’t great.

NUMBER 69 – SCARLET STREET (1945)

Another thing that will become clear in this list is how my favorite genre is film noir. Some films are on this list because of what they do to evolve that genre. Some are on the list because they take some elements of the genere and play them on the grandest stages and the most outrageous scenarios imaginable. But this film makes the list because it’s one of the single best “pure” noir films of all time. The conventions that other films use to evolve the genre or change the game are acrchtypeal in this film.

I can’t write all I want to about this film without spoiling large elements of the plot. I will cut this entry short and just say that this film is unsettling. Like other films discussed above, some films make clear distinctions between black and white moral choices, this film is cast in shades of grey. You end up feeling sorry for the main character, then being angry with and for him, then hating him, or maybe not. Film Noir typcially presents characters with choices that end up as a choice between the lessor of two evils. In this film, the choices are amplified, are far-reaching, and have terrible consequences. Even the ones that seem like “good” choices.

This one is unsettling, especially if you’d rather your films have clear outcomes and “good” results. This one is much more like life. Bad decisions spiral out of control, bad choices have continual bad results. Its value is in the perfectly visioned archtypeal characters and situations. Director Fritz Lang has three films on this list, all three very different and yet similar. This one is an outstanding genre pic that with Lang’s touch becomes a landmark one, at least for me.

NUMBER 68 – NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955)

It seems fitting that the next film is also unsettling—completely and totally unsettling. While not a pure film noir, the undeniable presence of evil is manifested by Robert Mitchum in one of screen’s all time dark performances.

The plot centers around a self-labeled preacher/convict looking for money his old cellmate has hidden for his wife and children. The preacher, played with nearly unnatural primal urgency by Mitchum, is as evil as evil gets. Check out the primal scream at 1:15 or so into this clip:

The clip, and numerous other youtube clips available from the film, should also show just how hauntingly beautiful this film is. Director Charles Laughton brought his extensive knowledge and experience from the stage to all aspects of this film. Especially notable are the lighting, framing of shots, and use of shadow. It’s a brave and bold choice for a director to make such a brooding, dark, expressionistic film. At the time of its release, this style partially hamstrung the film and led to it being a critical and commercial failure. However, in the years since, it is this very style that has earned the film constant heaps of praise, including this recent entry as one of the top 100 most beautiful films of all time.

Roger Ebert summed it up perfectly in his review : “It is risky to combine horror and humor, and foolhardy to approach them through expressionism. For his first film, Laughton made a film like no other before or since, and with such confidence it seemed to draw on a lifetime of work. Critics were baffled by it, the public rejected it, and the studio had a much more expensive Mitchum picture (“Not as a Stranger”) it wanted to promote instead. But nobody who has seen “The Night of the Hunter” has forgotten it, or Mitchum’s voice coiling down those basement stairs: “Chillll . . . dren?”

NUMBER 67 – THE CONVERSATION (1974)

This film is really a bookend to the number 77 film on my list, Blowup.  Both films are about how a closer inspection of what we think we saw/heard might reveal something different, about how our own views distort reality, and about how magnificently cinematic the struggle between whether we are a product of our reality or whether our reality is a product of us can be.

It’s no secret that Coppola borrowed heavily from Blowup in making The Conversation. Why this film ranks higher on my list than the masterpiece it owes so much to has to do with several things. The lead performance of Gene Hackman is outstandingly uncomfortable. As the lead character Harry Caul, he plays an audio surveillance expert who is at the same time hyper connected and therefore completely disconnected with reality. Hackman does a masterful job of making Caul’s paranoia palpable through the little things—pauses, eye clicks, physical shifting. The film would be completely empty without his performance.

The soundtrack of the film is also notable, especially for its minimalistic bent and often-atonal nature. It absolutely enhances the paranoia and discomfort in ways only perfectly-designed film scores can. It’s especially interesting that the score was written before the film, then tweaked and changed as the composer saw how to better enhance the visual images. This sort of “open source” collaborative effort only makes for a more impactful film.

Blowup captures a moment in time of a certain seemingly-unrealistic mod scene, The Conversation taps into a feeling, or scenario, still being played out as we press on into the information age. It appears at first glance as a comment on the Watergate-era, but notably it predates much of the scandal and coverage. It covers ground we are still experiencing, or will be experiencing. In that way it is as powerful as it is prescient.

NUMBER 66 – REBECCA (1940)

Alfred Hitchcock, master of film and he of direction of at least ten of the films on this list, only won one Best Picture Oscar. One. And it was for this fantastic film.

If you’re expecting the usual Hitchcock–taut suspense, sequences of frantic pacing, plot twists and turns–you are probably going to be let down. Instead of unfolding in typical Hitchcockian fashion, this film unfolds like a dream, and slowly turns into a nightmare.

The film finds a newly-married young woman completely over her head as wife in charge of a house that’s epically mammoth, and a staff that sees her as  poor replacement for the recently-deceased ex wife of her new husband. The husband, played by Lawrence Oliver in his brooding best, seems incapable of love. The entire film is haunted by the specter of the deceased wife, who plays a vital role in nearly every interaction, and yet is never seen on camera. But how did she die?  And what influence does she have, even from beyond the grave, of the fate of the newly married couple?

The sets are glorious, and the characters, especially the Head of Staff Mrs. Danvers whose feelings for the deceased wife simmer in ways unspeakable in 1940, are three dimensional and vibrant. The amazing house, pictured here, is a character in and of itself, so that the first line of the film is evocative and memorable. A beloved classic of literature, with a director and a legendary producer make this Best Picture winner from 1940 a memorable film.

NUMBER 65 – STALAG 17 (1953)

NUMBER 64 – LAURA (1944)

NUMBER 63 – SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950)

NUMBER 62 – YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974)

NUMBER 61 – CITY LIGHTS (1931)

Our undertakings will be different, though the goal is the same–amass a list of the 100 films that mean the most to us. I won’t speak for the criteria Andrew is using to make his list, but I can speak the criteria I’ve used.

-These are the films that mean the most to me.

-These are the films I find the most impactful-both on cinema and my life.

Good Film/Movies/Cinema is a rewarding experience for me.  I get just as much entertainment from a well-written, well-made drama as I do from laughing the entire time at Will Ferrell movie. So this list isn’t necessarily full of movies I enjoy on a sheer entertainment level. A movie is just as likely to be on this list for messing with my head for weeks after seeing it, challenging the way I view the world, or being one of the best in a genre as it is just for making me smile. Not every legendary film is going to make my list because some of them just don’t mean as much to me. This whole exercise is subjective.

All this is to say, Anchorman just missed the list. Sorry.

So without further ado, here’s numbers 100-81. The rest will be revealed, 20 at a time, in four additional posts. Don’t forget to view Andrew’s list as well. I think you’ll get a glimpse of how two people with very similar tastes can sometimes view things very differently.

The list begins after the jump…

NUMBER 100 – SNATCH (2000)

Snatch makes this list almost entirely on style. A big part of this is it’s a fantastic example of how a highly-stylized director is totally at home with his technique. And it is director Guy Ritchie’s unique style that is resplendent in this film. It’s pitch perfect, from song selection to casting, from pacing to cinematography. And it’s entirely memorable. Many films since have copped elements of Ritchie’s style, but here all the elements are on display at the top of their form. It helps that this one is all Ritchie, from screenplay to final cut, something all too rare in modern cinema. Note, this is unequivocally a “guy” film, I am hard pressed to even remember a female character in the film. But it would work just as well if all the characters were women. It isn’t about the message, it’s about the style.

NUMBER 99 – BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN (2006)

Sacha Baron Cohen is a modern Groucho Marx. This is for certain not an original observation, but I make it to say he’s truly a genius. Is this film too vulgar for many audiences? Absolutely. Is it uncomfortable? Yes. It’s also hilarious, and Cohen’s completely inhabiting the role–from his gangly walk to his mishmash malpropisms, is one of cinema’s great performances. You end up forgetting the film is largely improvised. You miss the fact that so much of the humor is what Cohen is able to generate through his interactions with everyday people. What results, besides your being entertained, is a view of the Post-9/11 America through the twisted lenses of Borat’s Kazak eyes. Borat is an improvised mockumentary that will stand as a cultural milestone. But yeah, it’s ridiculously vulgar. Like, probably will be considered too vulgar in decades vulgar.

NUMBER 98 – THE DARK KNIGHT (2008)

I had plenty to say about The Dark Knight after seeing it last summer. But in short, this is a genre-changing comic book movie. The layers – that Batman is a character with such a black and white moral code but operates as a vigilante shrouding his actions in greyscale; that in such a depraved world as director Chris Nolan’s Gotham, an amoral menace like The Joker is in some ways a moral center; that the “white knight”, moralistic District Attorney Harvey Dent, is scarred and ruined by the dark spirit of the city he seeks to protect, raise the bar in this film far above that you’d expect from a “comic book movie.” It contains a legendary screen performance in Ledger’s interpretation of The Joker. It does the difficult job of both being incredibly unsettling and a box office smash. And it does it all so well stylisticially. 10 years from now, I have a feeling we’ll look back at this film as a standard bearer of things to come.

NUMBER 97 – THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (2001)

This scene sums it up perfectly. If you haven’t seen the movie, it will mean nothing. But this offbeat comedy is Wes Anderson’s best, and perfectly captures his best skills. Excellent song choices, interesting characters, and completely quirky action. Anderson envisioned an entire world with this film, the depth of the set decoration and character histories is incredible.

NUMBER 96 – ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004)

Is it better to have loved and lost or never to have loved before? But what if you have loved and want the sweet bliss, the eternal sunshine, that is the spotless mind? What if you could erase all memory, good and bad, of a lost love? Are some people going to be drawn to each other, and yet wrong for each other, no matter what?

This film is wonderfully complex, incredibly confusing, and richly rewarding, much like the kind of relationships it depicts. It’s science fiction without being geeky, romance without being sappy, and escapism without being detached from reality. It hurts, but it heals. The premise is unique, but the feelings and situations it unravels are entirely real. Painfully real. It pairs Charlie Kaufman’s offbeat narrative style with Michael Gondry’s offbeat visual one, which is the kind of risk that either really goes awry or really works. This really works.

NUMBER 95 – BLAZING SADDLES (1974)

There is parody, and then there’s Mel Brooks. Westerns are our father’s (and grandfather’s) movies, the genre has evolved from one of America’s most prevalent to a dying campfire flame. And, speaking of campfires…

See, there are fart jokes, and then there’s Mel Brooks fart jokes. So gross, and unrealistic by  power of 10. But what’s more unrealistic: Westerns from the 50’s and 60’s that don’t acknowledge the reality of eating beans around a campfire, or Blazing Saddles, which does? That’s comedy–realism and absurdism at the same time. That’s what Blazing Saddles is. Our comedies don’t get enough credit for the powerful statements they can make, via humor, about our society. Mel Brooks will never get enough credit for his ability to cut even as he tickles your ribs.

NUMBER 94 – RAISING ARIZONA (1987)

Boy, you got a panty on your head…

The Coen Brothers were apparently born with the ability to take genres, throw nylons on their heads, and make something entirely new and twisted.  They find humor and laughs in places most films don’t even have places. And because they do that, they find poignancy and feeling in ways that other directors simply can’t, or can only hope to on their best day.

Raising Arizona is the epitome of a Coen Brothers comedy. They get the most out of their actors. They turn the ridiculous (see the above convenience store robbery) to the sublime. Everything in their best films is perfectly thought and realized. Every movement is calculated. Every shot is valuable. And the overall effect is the realization that you are watching something legitimately great.

NUMBER 93 – THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998)

–Take everything I just said about Mel Brooks and parody and the Coen Brothers and comedy.

–Mix with a fantastic cast.

–Sprinkle in some eminently quotable dialogue.

–Repeat screenings with the knowledge the more you do it, the better it gets.

–Add a pinch of Steve Buscemi.

–Top with a White Russian.

This is a recipe for amazing. Please make a note of it.

NUMBER 92 – THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971)

A masterpiece of technical filmmaking from an era when that was not nearly as easy to accomplish with post-production tools and tricks.

It’s notable for being a top genre film, for some great performances (Gene Hackman especially) and an incredible car-chase filmed largely without permission and with unsuspecting drivers and pedestrians in the streets of Brooklyn.

You read that right. This:

was filmed without permission and mostly void of actors and extras. It really was just a nutjob stunt driver and a cameraman wrapped in a mattress in the backseat driving insanely through the streets of New York. Pretty incredible stuff. Academy awards for picture (first R rated film to win) Actor, Director, Editing, and Screenplay. One of the stellar examples of how the 1970’s were America’s best decade for film.

NUMBER 91 – THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984)

A recurring theme throughout this list will be films that are shining stars of their respective genres. This Is Spinal Tap is one of, if not the best, mockumentaries ever made. It’s such a well-made film that on release, many thought it depicted a real band in the last throes of their popularity. It’s also such a well made film that the film’s band (featuring creators Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer) STILL tours the nation to adulation. There are many real bands from the 80’s who would love to be able to play to the crowds this fake one still does. Reality television and shows like “The Office” owe much of their success to the genre-bending glory of This Is Spinal Tap

These go to 11…

NUMBER 90 – MIRAGE (1965)

This might be the first head scratcher on the list, but then, it makes sense that it would be. Because this is a film that sticks with you, makes you scratch your head, and takes days to unravel and put together in your mind. The audience is in the shoes of the lead character, an amnesiac who “comes to” in the middle of a power outage and spends the rest of the film learning things about himself he’d rather not. There’s so much that’s notable about this film, but suffice to say it’s nearly perfectly made. Director Edward Dmytryk is criminally underrated, partially due to his being jailed and eventually naming names in the McCarthy era. Lost in the shuffle of modern directors who owe everything to people like Dmytryk are people LIKE Dmytryk who pioneered so much of the style that modern directors get undeserved credit for. Here’s a taste, this one’s not available on DVD so you will have to swing by the library for the VHS.

NUMBER 89 – APOCALYPSE NOW (1979)

Kurtz: I’ve seen horrors… horrors that you’ve seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that… but you have no right to judge me. It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face… and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn’t see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember… I… I… I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized… like I was shot… like I was shot with a diamond… a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God… the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not monsters. These were men… trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love… but they had the strength… the strength… to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral… and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling… without passion… without judgment… without judgment. Because it’s judgment that defeats us.

NUMBER 88 – MEMENTO (2000)

The tricks films can pull with a narrative to make you identify with the main character are numerous, but Memento takes those tricks to a whole new level. If you don’t walk away from this film feeling as rattled as the main character must, then I question your humanity. This film has all the elements of a classic suspense film, but the concept is so unique that it presents something entirely rare in modern cinema–something new. It speaks to and represents the unique talents of Christopher Nolan, and announced to filmgoers that this was a man whose unique views and voice will impact cinema as long as he chooses to work. If you haven’t seen this film, go into it with and open mind and prepare to have that mind blown. I don’t want to say anything more lest I ruin the film’s numerous twists.

NUMBER 87 – STRAW DOGS (1971)

Straw Dogs, Sam Peckinpah’s study of violence, is a incredible comment on the male psyche. What happens to Dustin Hoffman’s mild mannered character in this film is meant to show that even the most meek among us has a breaking point. But what is that point? What creates it? And what do we do once we’ve reached it? And once we do reach it, can we ever go back? This film is memorable for its attempts to provide answers to those questions. This film literally erupts, like a smoldering volcano, in a stream of violent catharsis lasting nearly a half hour. But it’s not easily summarized in terms that are morally clear. Instead, Straw Dogs presents ambiguity. Is Hoffman a hero? A villain? That the film leaves these questions to the viewer is but one of its strengths. It’s notable that Peckinpah has stated that he feels if the film has a villain, it’s Hoffman’s character. This is not a film that will appeal to all audiences, and it’s not a film that says much more about society than what it says about Hoffman’s character. But for what it does say, it’s worthy of inclusion on many top 100 lists, this one included.

NUMBER 86 – LES DIABOLIQUES (1955)

I really don’t want to say much about this film, since it owes much of it’s spectacularness to it’s masterful suspense. Suffice to say this is an incredibly well made film. And it’s an incredibly influential film. Alfred Hitchcock took so much of what Les Diaboliques did and used it in Psycho. And of course both films have had immesaureable influence on modern suspense films. Thanks to the glory of the internet, you can watch this entire masterpiece on youtube, which I highly recommend you do. The film’s last 10 minutes are especially fantastic. This is how films should be made. Period. Yes, it’s in French with subtitles. If that’s an issue for you, why are you even reading this list?

Here’s part one, the rest of the film will be linked in the playlist on the right side of the youtube page.

NUMBER 85 – THE LADY FROM SHANGHAI (1947)

Once upon a time, filmmaking was an art. Still photography come to life. A way to impact viewers with a combination of sensory stimulii that other singluar mediums simply did not present. It’s not a knock on modern filmmakers that masters like Orson Welles had the first crack at creating conventions, it’s more that modern filmmakers have dropped the ball completely. This is a film entirely memorable for Welles’ art. The story, a murder/thriller/noir plot that seems to be populating many films on this list, is taut and well-executed, but it’s the art of Welles both in front of and behind the camera that make this film one of the top 100 of all time. Welles’ technical genius is nearly unrivaled in film history. The end sequence, taking place in a house of mirrors, is legendary and it alone makes the film a landmark in film history. If you’re a fan of film as art, or a fan of noir/suspense, this is one to watch. If you view the video below, ask yourself honestly, who is shooting films like this these days?

NUMBER 84 – JULES ET JIM (1962)

There isn’t anything I can write about this that’s better than what The Village Voice wrote about it. This is a beautiful film that means different things to different people at different points in their lives. It has meant different things to me along the way. But it’s always had meaning. It stays with you. It’s about love, and life, and the forever-intertwined nexus between the two. That Truffaut is a master is unequivocal. That this film is a technical masterpiece should be as well. But that it’s a spiritual one is something altogether different. It is a true piece of cinematic literature, one that will impact you differently depending on your mood, and your satisfaction or lack thereof with your place in life. Read The Village Voice link above. Then see the film. Then see it again. And watch it later.

NUMBER 83 – ANNIE HALL (1977)

A screwball comedy that wins best picture at the Academy Awards (beating out Star Wars) must have a lot going on for it. And, sure enough, Annie Hall does. The movie is downright hilarious, Woody Allen’s one liners are a constant steam of hilariousness, and Diane Keaton is fantastic in the title role. That Woody Allen was able to realize and write fully-developed, complex, characters marked a major evolution in his career. That he was able to do so with such expressions about relationships is something most writers can’t even attempt, let alone succeed as well as Allen does with Annie Hall. The only reason I hesitate to call this the best Romantic Comedy of all time is because another film (in my top 10 actually) takes that title. But this film, with all of it’s screwball situations and hilarious one liners, won the Best Picture award, partially for Allen’s mastery at using comedy as a window to the soul.

NUMBER 82 – DUCK SOUP (1933)

It’s odd that Duck Soup ranks one ahead of Annie Hall, because Woody Allen’s opening monologue in Annie Hall makes reference to one of the great one liners attributed to Groucho Marx (from Duck Soup) to the effect of “I wouldn’t belong to any club that would have me as a member”.

Oddly, this hilarious film didn’t do well at the time it was released, but time has proven it to be both a masterpiece and prophetic. For example, at the beginning of Kalmar and Ruby’s song “Just Wait’ll I Get Through With It,” Groucho’s first two “nonsense” laws are: “No one’s allowed to smoke/ Or tell a dirty joke.” Sound familiar?

The humor–the puns, witticisms, and memorable scenes and situations, are all top-notch examples of the Marx Brothers. When Groucho starts in at 7 minutes, and doesn’t stop, you realize you’re watching one of our all time great comedians at the top of his game. And it helps that Mussolini took the film as a personal insult and banned it in Italy. That such an insanely anarchic comedy has a lot to say about nationalism and war (and stands the test of time) only says more about why this film is a masterpiece.  Memorable scenes include the mirror scene, and the film’s war sendup in the climactic moments.

This is another one that can be viewed entirely on youtube.

NUMBER 81 – WALL-E (2008)

If you missed this, or wrote it off as a kids movie, you should make it a point to see it as soon as possible. Its first hour, almost completely void of dialogue, is full of a sense of wonder I’ve rarely experienced in a film, animated or otherwise. It’s a sweet film, a touching film, and a funny film. It has something to say with very few words, and it says it with a longing and some staying power. That it does so as a cartoon is why it’s on the list at number 81. We’ll see whether it represents where animated movies end up going, or merely where they can go. It was nominated for a writing Oscar for crying out loud.

Films 80-61 will be posted in a week or so. Until then, don’t forget to check out Andrew Brenner’s list, and feel free to make your own!

Somewhere around the midpoint of the newly-released second installment in Director Christopher Nolan’s brilliant reimaging of the Batman film series, Gotham City DA Harvey Dent urges Gotham citizens to look at the chaos and despair around them with the mindset that it’s darkest before dawn. If this is true, even as dark as this film is, there’s probably more darkness in store for the caped crusader in chapters to come.

The film, punnishly entitled “The Dark Knight”, is dark and morose in a way befitting its title. Batman, the character, has mostly been dark and morose–his response to the depravity in the world around him is to go to his dark place and deal with it, usually with violence. Or maybe it’s his happy place, like a bat, he’s obviously most comfortable in deep, dark, quiet places.

But Batman, the movies, have always toed that line between darkness and light, they have always stayed in the mouth of the cave and never truly gone in deep without a light.

Until now.

Batman films in the pre-Nolan days were cartoonish, their characters archtypes displaying the stark difference between black and white rather than the similarities in shades of grey. Nolan eats his lunch on the greyscale. He plies his trade in a world where the moral centers are as shifty as a politician.  In his non-Batman films (Memento, Insomnia, The Prestige), Nolan has made a living playing with the characters’ (and the audience’s) sense of reality. In his Batman films, especially this one, reality plays with the characters’ senses.

And so it should come as little surprise that he and his brother, who co-wrote the script, found such a worthy canvas as The Joker (and an equally worthy actor in Heath Ledger) upon which to paint their bleak and twisted tale.  Ours is not to reason why The Joker menaces as he does throughout the film. The point is that he does. It doesn’t really matter how he gained his scarred visage, it only matters that he did. He’s willing to do pretty much anything to pursue his sense of what he wants out of the world. If that means vamping around in a fright wig and a nurse’s outfit so he can destroy an empty hospital, so be it. If it means lying down with the dogs in order to gain a dual sense of equality and superiority, so be it.

What’s so brilliant about this film is the greys, because the preceding can also be said (with one line uncrossed until the finale) about Nolan’s Batman. Batman and The Joker aren’t different sides of different coins, they are different sides of the same coin. But maybe sometimes they are the same side. And maybe sometimes they are different sides, with chance being the only thing that differentiates one from the other.  And the same can not only be said for Batman and pious District Attorney Harvey Dent, but also for Dent and (Commissioner) James Gordon, whose own willingness (aka weakness) to look past the moral weaknesses of others leads to so much havoc in the film. Put simply, no one is ever just heads and no one is ever just tails. Everyone spends a little time face down.

But this isn’t just normal character arc stuggle here. This is the stuff of the Ancient Greeks. This is tragey writ beautifully and large with explosions to rival any in film history.  It’s greek theater without the comedy masks, except for the grotesque physical one The Joker sports to mask some sort of inner pain (or does he wear it to prevent any real happiness from emerging?)  What’s bold and refreshing about the choices Nolan and his actors make is exactly what makes the film unsettling. There is no happy ending, just as there’s no happy beginning, and no happy middle. In a film that begins with a bank robbery and ends with what amounts to the public crucifixion of the title character, there aren’t too many bright spots along the way. There are few daytime exteriors (a funeral parade notable among them), and even fewer moments of a sense of clam or contentedness. The whole film, and all of Gotham, is dread and foreboding.

This, of course, has to frustrate Batman. In Batman Begins, he essentially saved Gotham from complete and total annihilation.  Unfortunately doing so has its consequences–saving Gotham from instant death subjects it to death of the slow and painful variety.  It’s clear from the jump that saving Gotham had absolutely zero impact on curing it.  What has happened instead is actually a turn for the worse. One time top-billing worthy baddie The Scarecrow is reduced to the role of glorified drug dealer, and dispatched in an ignominious way not 25 minutes into the film, never to be heard from again. That’s not to say fighting crime is easier for Batman. His old suit will no longer suffice. His old standby the Batmobile is reduced to a catastrophic mess, which he discards in a crumpled heap on a nameless city street. He needs newer gadgets to keep up with the Jokers of the world.

But that’s not all he needs. In order to keep up with The Joker, he has to dance to the circus music playing in The Joker’s mind. In Tim Burton’s world, the Joker tosses a line “Did you ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?” and you sense his evil. But when Batman tosses it back to him later, it’s to appear macho and ironic. In Christopher Nolan’s world, there is little room for irony because there is little understanding of what has happened and even less expectation of what was supposed to happen.  It isn’t until far too late that Jim Gordon realizes that The Joker was 15 moves ahead of him, and that what appeared to be good policework was all part of a grand scheme. Reality bites, or in this case creepily shifts its tongue across its teeth. And, though it’s not revealed, you have to suspect The Joker wired the detonators on the cruise ships so that a choice to destroy the other ship actually would result in destroying your own. He played a similar morality shell game with Dawes and Dent. It isn’t about there being a right choice, it’s about not making the wrong one.

It is in this world without obvious irony that The Joker crafts his masterpiece of mayhem.  And so instead of it being ironic that those who attempt to do good end up causing harm, it ends up sour serendipity, as though the outcome is both unintended and exactly what we and the characters should’ve expected to happen. Alfred, the butler, observes this to Bruce Wayne after the death of Rachel Dawes, essentially saying if you play with fire, you get burned. And, as is often observed in the film, you make your own luck. The problem is, not all luck is good. Put another way, chance favors the prepared mind, but if the mind is warped, it’s not necessarily a good chance. One can’t help but see undertones of the current political climate, especially in Iraq, in this observation. Good intentions don’t always equate to good results.

What Nolan does with our “hero” Batman, and the city the Wayne Family has championed for decades, is show how difficult it is at certain times and in certain places, even with good intentions, to do more good than harm. Batman is being impersonated by other vigilanties, lacking both his physical acumen and mental harshness.  Many to most of these Batmen end up arrested or in one case murdered simply to be used in effigy. It’s as if the film is saying that once you stray from the truly straight and narrow path, you’re but one step away from the truly dark part of the forest.

This is true not only for Batman, but also for Harvey Dent, stopped from a brutal torture session he’s administering by none other than a knowing Batman. Batman’s message to Dent displays a knowledge of self and knowledge of weakness. Dent has to be the White Knight for Gotham, because Batman never will be. And without even that hint of light, there is no hope for ending the dark night and retiring The Dark Knight.

Dent, that hint of light, is snuffed out, first with fire to the face, then with a mind fuck on par with any Cold War era “reprogramming”, ultimately ending with his death. And when Dent dies a villain’s death, the only scintilla of hope remaining in Gotham lies in making Batman Public Enemy Number One. When your best hope dies and your best chance after that is casting aspersions on your other best hope, well, that’s when you know your dark night is not yet just before dawn.

And so the Dark Knight, and the dark night, live on. The question posed by Rachel Dawes in the film, one that could forever remain open ended, is whether there will ever be a point without Batman, either because the world, or Batman himself, is no longer in need. Nolan creates a world so bleak, in which good actions snowball so quickly into awful results, that it’s tough to say whether there will always be Batman because there is evil, or whether the evil will always be more desparate and depraved because there is Batman. There may be a sraight answer in Nolan’s disjointed world. But it won’t come any time soon. And while that’s bad news for Batman, that’s great news for viewers. One man’s pain is another’s pleasure. The coin has two sides.