OK, I’m not proud. I’ll start:
1. Kings and Queen
2. Last Days
3. Capote
4. Walk the Line
5. Brokeback Mountain
6. Mysterious Skin
7. Palindromes
8. Howl’s Moving Castle
9. Nobody Knows
10. The Squid and the Whale
Continue reading Best of the Year
I watched Andrew Bujalski’s Funny Ha Ha last night after reading a lot of accolades (particularly A.O. Scott in the Times and the Slate end-of-the-year critic’s discussion which Reynolds referenced a couple of weeks ago). This film is a stripped to the bones, no-budget portrait of twentysomething post-graduates trying to figure it all out (work, love, freedom, obligation). During the first twenty minutes I was put off by the amateurish quality of the filmmaking, but the performances were believable, the writing honest and unaffected and there was nary a note of hipster irony (these kids aren’t overeducated slackers spouting off the greatest hits of Heidegger and Nietzsche and McLuhan) so I stuck with it . . . and I’m glad I did. Funny Ha Ha is unassuming—a comic work of “slice of life†naturalism in the tradition of John Cassavetes and John Sayles (the closest I can come to finding an appropriate analogue is Sayles’ The Return of the Secaucus Seven). Bujalski’s film develops real poignancy over its 90+ minutes offering up a genuinely believable collection of psychologically complex (and confused) characters who both embrace and resist the randomness of human existence in order to defend themselves from the encroaching responsibilities of adulthood while consciously moving in that very direction. My only criticism concerns the way Bujalski makes invisible the very integuments of class privilege which provides these kids the time and space to work it all out. Worth a look.
Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain is a work of art—a lean, spare, unsentimental film suffused with loneliness and longing. That being said, I think the American public will ignore this plaintive love story. Though the Wyoming landscape is gorgeous to look upon (cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto deserves an award from someone), the film’s episodic structure and the lack of big, sweeping emotional moments (i.e. MAINSTREAM) will limit the film’s appeal. Admittedly, I walked away from the screening feeling a bit let down. I guess I wanted the Gay Gone With the Wind everyone’s been hyping. I wanted to feel emotionally drained. Such expectations, however, are not fair. The film is certainly full of big moments and genuine human conflict and there are well-earned laughs throughout. Still, it is far from histrionic and the nature of the story of these two men preclude the kind of fireworks I was expecting. Instead, Brokeback Mountain is a quiet and contemplative film fueled by passive aggression, self-loathing, fear and sadness. I have been haunted by it for the last dozen hours or so—I’m in a melancholy mood today—and such a response is due to the filmmakers deep respect for their source material as well as the story’s contentious subject matter not to mention the heart-wrenching performances of Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Williams and a memorable supporting turn by “Freaks and Geeks†alum Linda Cardellini.
Less flashy but more substantial than The Constant Gardener, I found Syriana to be intelligent and provocative—an unassuming and impassioned yet labyrinthine melodrama. Though it flirts with moral ambiguity, the film is very clear about who the bad guys are and who the good guys are. The fact that some of the good guys are perceived to be, at first, bad buys doesn’t make their purity of intent any less romanticized. The film requires great patience but the rewards are there . . . indeed, the film’s climax is quite exciting and suspenseful. I will also point to the fine ensemble work among the actors (in particular, the young man who played the Pakistani terrorist in training).
When it is not attempting (poorly) to replicate the visual splendor and complexity of the Lord of the Rings films (the CGI here can be quite muddy), The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe proves to be an old fashioned, delightfully charming work of family entertainment. It is not the centaurs or dryads or giants or talking beavers that captures one’s attention but the subtle and unforced performances of the young actors in the central roles. Director Adamson has coaxed very good work from these kids, and it is their commitment to the material that makes the film soar. Tilda Swinton is fantastic as the White Witch (and her costumes are fabulous), and James McAvoy’s gentle, enchanting performance as Mr. Tumnus was truly memorable (he’s all the rage in our house at the moment). The adaptation opens up yet improves upon C.S. Lewis’ novel, which, after reading it aloud to my daughter last week, can grow a bit twee. After the wearisome Harry Potter IV, I was a bit reluctant about taking Cate to another big holiday film, but she was absolutely riveted. Indeed, the theatre was packed and, considering the number of small children in the auditorium, remarkably—reverently—silent.
Capote – really good
Good Night and Good Luck – good
I’m not going to make a huge case for Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants–it is what it is and nothing more. Its three-hankie girlpower shtick was affecting primarily due to the young actors playing the central roles (in particular, America Ferrera and Alexis Bledel). Still, Nicola and I enjoyed it and recommend it to those few reading this blog who enjoy, on the rare ocassion, a solid unassuming genre flick.
Saw a couple worthy additions to this tired yet never waning genre: My Summer of Love and Thumbsucker. Both are definitely worth the effort. My Summer of Love hovers somewhere between the work of Ken Loach and Eric Rohmer–an atmospheric love story suffused with dejection and desire about two adolescent girls whose sexual relationship is shaped by class division. Thumbsucker is that rare bird–a funny yet poignant, American coming-of-age film that actually feels deftly original (I didn’t read Kirn’s novel). Strong performances (in particular, Tilda Swinton, Lou Pucci and Kelli Garner) and a serio-comic script that captures the awkwardness of adolescence while also showing great respect for those adults (teachers, parents, dentists) whose commitment to working with young people often leave them confused and floundering in that liminal space between these two worlds (Vincent D’Onofrio and Vince Vaughn should not go unnoticed). I did not imagine I would like this film as much as I did.
This isn’t a great film. The dialogue is stilted, the tone of certain scenes feels forced (particularly in the first half hour), many of the performances are excrutiatingly one-dimensional, and the film is visually flat (lacking the strong compositions and use of shadow and light in Spider and Crash, for example). What exactly did I expect from another graphic novel adaptation? But as a particular kind of American allegory, A History of Violence makes for an extremely potent piece of cinema (and there are scenes and moments that are just about as good as it gets). I can see why this was such a hit at Cannes. As I was watching, however, I wondered what David Lynch could have done with this material, and I guess that’s not such a great endorsement of Cronenberg’s work.
Around 15 million people tuned in last night for this new NBC comedy. I liked its Coen Brothers-lite charm and Jason Lee makes an engaging lead character. With 246 people to cross of his list, the network certainly has a long run on its hand if America keeps watching. Nothing remarkable but amusing nonetheless. The second season of The Office was also fun to watch (if a little bit more mainstream than the first few eps) though it lost 6 million of Earl’s viewers.