So, Empire Magazine (best known for concocting soul-stealinglists that dare me to conquer them) has announced their newest feature: The Greatest Videogames of All-Time. And they're leaving it in the hands of the people (as that's never gone wrong before). They're asking people to write in their top 5 nominees, and in addition provide their "fondest memory". While normally I'd be too busy, what with my currently hectic schedule of unemployment and banging my head into a laptop screen with writer's block (or more accurately, writer's "Everything I do sucks, why continue? You overweight failure, you might as well just star that teaching career your parents keep pseudo-subtly suggesting"), but as I'm currently bed-ridden sick, I though "What the hell?". While video games have never really been my first love, nor have I ever written about them extensively or intensively before, I was surprised at the emotional attachment I'd had for some of the titles I'd selected. So I thought I'd reprint them here (since they'll never see the light of day otherwise) and see if anybody else feels the same. Feel free to chime in in the comments, or do your own shit for the magazine article you won't actually be able to read in this country here.
1st pick- The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
I came really late to the Zelda series. I grew up in a Mario home, and only got around to the Zelda games senior year of college. Tracking down an N64 and copy of the game was arduous, but when I finally got down to it, and popped the game in the system…it was something else. It was amazing. It hit me with a wave of nostalgia in its graphic simplicity, but still felt fresh. Still held an appeal beyond the historical. It was like seeing Citizen Kane for the first time, or listening to Sgt. Pepper. It was different than any other game I had played, yet felt so familiar. Its no surprise its the title every Hyrule habitué swears by, and the one people keep going back to. It didn't just define what the N64 was capable of. Narratively, it defined what the medium of gaming was capable of.
from pushselectsmagazine.com
2nd pick- Bioshock
My favorite memory is likely everyone's favorite, and for damn good reason. The turnaround, the about face the narrative takes with the reveal of the importance of the phrase "Would you kindly?" rivals any movie twist (or any revelation of the factuality of a promise of pastry), and elevates the game from shooter with social commentary to an almost labyrinthian mind-bender.
from the Bioshock Wiki
3rd pick- Red Dead Redemption
The final appearance of the Strange Man. Before the Strange Man ever makes an appearance, the game plays just like a GTA game, but albeit with far more desert and a Leone-esque score. It's all just "shoot this" and "race that", with vague mentions of a "past" or a "family" in order to put some sort of story on the mayhem, like most of Rockstar's other entries have tried to do. But then he appears, high on a precipice, dressed in all black like a mix of Abe Lincoln and Henry Fonda in Once Upon A Time In The West. And he talks about people you killed, things you'd done, and asks you to make moral choices, neither praising or damning you, whichever you choose. It lends the game an air of the supernatural, an element of the philosophical, and a depth elevating it beyond "Grand Theft Horse". When his final appearance occurs, at what would become Marston's final resting place, you realize just how important the title's final word is, and just what kind of redemption John's seeking. What other game has you searching, not for gold coins, but for God?
from Digitaltrends.com
4th pick- Pokemon Red/Blue
Though I personally started with Blue, the games are interchangeable. The fondest memory is, of course, beating the Elite Four. Because at age 8, that might have been the most effort I'd ever had to put into anything; the most long-term goal I'd conceived and committed to. And while what followed didn't quite live up to my expectations (no, beating the Elite Four did not let you open your own gym. It did not translate into real-world praise. President Clinton was not going to send me a letter of congratulations), it was the first time in my life I'd get to look back on something and say "Look how far I've come". To marvel at the single-minded zeal I'd demonstrated in my months long attempt to reach that point. To this day, I get nostalgic for a time when my biggest worry was beating the Elite Four, when there was a tough but clear path to success, and when the hard work you put in collecting the badges had guaranteed results. And that's when I fire up the old Gameboy Color.
from http://img.gamefaqs.net
5th pick- Final Fantasy VII
The death of Aerith. For a 7 year old in suburban New York in 1997, this was Ned Stark's beheading. It was Snape killing Dumbledore. This was Piggy getting got, Adrianna getting whacked, and Lt. Henry Blake's plane over the sea of Japan all rolled up into one. This was why you pages through every Game Informer you could, talked to every 6th grader in the cafeteria, and even braved the yet-untamed wilderness of the internet to find the cheat code to bring her back from the dead. And this was why your mom wouldn't let you play any more T for Teen games after she found you crying when you found out that nothing could.
A while back, after rewatching Drive to try and see if I missed something, something that makes it worthy of the praise it got as opposed to the follow-up Only God Forgives, which Cannes critics ripped into. And I realized two things. One is that Drive is still a terrible movie, and this isn't the last you'll be hearing of that. The other is that there's few things harder to do in a movie than craft a badass character. Even defining badass is hard, but like Potter Stewart said of obscenity, you know it when you see it. And you don't see it too often. A lot of time, we don't get badass. We get exaggerated machismo, tough posturing, and in the end it either end up moronic or lame. Ignorance doesn't equal badass. Anti-intellectual doesn't mean badass. Senselessly violent doesn't equal badass. Hell, one of the most badass men in history was Teddy Roosevelt, and he was a nature lover in touch with his feelings. Hell, Hemingway was a total badass, and he was so not anti-intellectual that not only did he read books, he wrote them. There's a very specific formula for crafting a badass, and while nobody has ever been able to put it into words, a few filmmakers have been able to commit it to film. Below is my list of the 15 Biggest Movie Badasses. My friend Josh Paige and I both undertook the challenge of naming what, in our opinion, are the 15 most badass movie characters. Of course, we set a fairly strict rule: Movie-exclusive characters only. They could be in books or video games later on, but they had to be born on the screen. No "based on" folks. No real people (sorry Yip Man), no literary characters (There goes James Bond and Shaft), no superheroes. Just ass-kickers of the silver screen. Submitted for your approval or disdain are my picks:
The 15 Biggest Movie Badasses
15) Merida (voiced by Kelly MacDonald)- Brave
Kids need action heroes too, you know. And until Pixar shattered every mold that existed for kids movie heroes with an arrow from the quiver of the sassy Scottish archer, the only badass role models for girls in movies were all rated R. Merida takes charge of her life, refusing to fit any stereotypes, both societal and cinematic, and gives Katniss and Robin Hood a run for their money with her bow. Will she be joining the Expendables soon? No. But the red-headed heroine is about as badass as a PG rating will allow.
14) Rick (played by Humphrey Bogart)- Casablanca
What do Woody Allen and Jean-Luc Godard have in common (besides that weird version of King Lear and banging their actresses)? An admiration for Bogie's badassness, as seen in Play It Again, Sam and A Bout De Souffle, respectively. And though he'd captured cool in many a gangster flick, and was the definitive Phillip Marlowe, his finest role will always be the lonely owner of Casablanca. Though he fires less shots here than almost any other major role, there's not a scene in the film where he doesn't just emanate cool. True, helping out your ex's new guy doesn't normally qualify as badass, but I think the one exception to that is "helping out your ex's new guy to defeat the god damned Nazis". Plus, he found a way to make even a goodbye badass. That takes skill.
13) El Mariachi (played by Carlos Gallardo & Antonio Banderas)- The Mexico Trilogy
Robert Rodriguez's $7000 case de molar flick could have easily wound up the Mexican bargain bin video it was meant to be. Instead, it spawned two sequels, kickstarted a career, and wound up in the Library of Congress. And its all thanks to a nameless musician who can tocar la guitara and patear el culo like a hijo de puta. Unlike a lot of action heroes, El Mariachi changes (and thats not solely because of a recasting once Dimension gave Rodriguez a budget) throughout the three films, from a frightened young man surviving on instinct and luck to a weathered, worn down warrior on a war path. He isn't the super-human killing machine Machete (who Rodriguez would later bring to the screen in his own trilogy). El Mariachi, even at his most outlandish (anyone remember the crotch gun?), is brilliantly human in the vein of a gunslinger from the worlds of Leone or John Ford.
12) The Bride (played by Uma Thurman)- Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2
Taking in hours of blaxploitation and kung fu flicks at a time when he probably should have been taking Ritalin, Tarantino's mind is practically an encyclopedia of badassery. Every film he's made has had some seriously badass motherfuckers, even if only one has the wallet to prove it. If this list went to 30, it'd just turn into a Tarantino cast list. But the truth is one shines above the rest. While most of Quentin's crew are just background-less charicatures of cool, ceaselessly moving onward from one victim to the next like a shark, Beatrix Kiddo is all about her past. Her wedding day massacre is depicted both in serene Ozu-like black & white and a frenetic anime sequence soaked in red. Nothing could better sum up the duality of The Bride. And unlike her revenge-oriented counterpart, Django (who just happens to be an expert assassin through "instinct"), Beatrix goes to soul-crushing and knuckle shattering lengths in her training with Pai Mei, gearing up the slaughter the remnants of her past, since they robbed her of a future. And really, only a true badass could rock a yellow tracksuit, am I wrong?
11) Ethan Edwards (played by John Wayne)- The Searchers
The king of the cowboys, John Wayne had his finest moments in what might be the greatest Western ever made. Ethan Edwards might be the original anti-hero, out to rescue his niece (or possibly daughter, some say) from the grips of the Comanche tribe whatever way he has to, even is it means a bullet through her heart. His hate for the Comanche is so strong, he even shoots the eyes out of their corpses, so that their souls might be "doomed forever to wander the earth" rather than find the spirit land. His final moments in the doorway are some of the most heartbreaking in cinema, his cool head under pressure is inimitable, and if you need any more reason to accept his place on this list, you should know Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan cited Ethan Edwards as a major influence on Walter White's final moments. So for all you BB fans needed another fix, take "Baby Blue" off repeat and find your local Best Buy's Western section. Ethan'll be waiting.
10) Dirty Harry (played by Clint Eastwood)- The Dirty Harry series
So, this may be a little bit cheating, since Harry Callaghan is loosely based on a real San Francisco detective Dave Toschi (who is portrayed by Mark Ruffalo in the film Zodiac going to see himself portrayed by Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry. A Dave Toschi film within a Dave Toschi film. Suck it, Inception), it's so loosely based it barely counts. The definitive "loose cannon cop", there's practically no need to explain the badass qualifications of Harry Callaghan, since they've entered into the public consciousness like almost no other character. Who doesn't, by the age of 10, know "Do you feel lucky, punk?" or "Go ahead, make my day" (I can't speak for the current generation, but for those of us raised on the Spielberg-era pop-culture soaked Kids WB cartoons, we practically saw the entire Dirty Harry quintilogy acted out by Tiny Toons)? Even when the series lost steam, even when the 1980's declared a jihad on American cinema, even when Jim Carrey pranced about a soundstage set to Guns N' Roses, even then the title figure maintained a commitment to kicking ass few have matched.
9) Jeff Costello (played by Alain Delon)- Le Samurai
In le cinema français, cool isn't just an option, is a key criteria. Emulating the American noir movement, and blending in a fair amount of Euro-chic, the French did for the gangster flick what the Italians did for the Western; they took it from us and sent it back revamped, revitalized and revolutionary. And nobody was better at the old fedoras and firearms than Jean-Pierre Melville, whose Le Doulos, Le Cercle Rouge and Le Samurai should be essential viewing for any "crime film" fans. Of the three, La Samurai has by far the most intriguing protagonist, in the form of the near mute Jeff Costello. A grey fedora, a tan trench coat, white gloves and a gun. In truth, that's all he is. He has no history, no friends beyond a woman who loves him and an ally with a garage, he's everything a certain scorpion-jacketed stunt driver tried to be. A killer-for-hire who seems to mirror every ounce of anger in James Cagney's grapefruit smashing gangsters with a collected zen that makes him all the more deadly, all the more terrifying, and all the more awesome.
8) Lee (played by Bruce Lee)- Enter The Dragon
Any list of badasses that doesn't have a Bruce Lee film should be burned and forgotten. For shit's sake, Bruce Lee was such a badass, not only has there been countless films about him (not to mention ones that used footage of him after his death to try and sell crappy kung fu flicks), there's been at least 5 movies on his teacher, Yip Man. That'd be like making movies about Liam Neeson's character in Batman Begins. And Lee took all of Yip's knowledge, and blended it with other forms of martial arts to invent his own style and discipline that's still being taught today. And while Lee had several roles in his career, the only one that ever came close to mirroring both his disciplined personality and his incredible kill was the protagonist from the legendary kung-fu film Enter The Dragon. Everyone knows the story, if only because it has been replicated or parodied ad nauseum. But none of the copies come close, not even Spongebob on Karate Island, because none have the masterful Lee leading the charge, snapping necks and fighting claw-handed men.
7) Indiana Jones- The Indiana Jones Quadrilogy
Indiana Jones joined the American cultural lexicon in 1981 with Raiders of the Lost Ark, but it felt like he'd been here forever, cracking his whip alongside Paul Bunyon and John Henry in the annals of American folklore. And maybe that's because of Spielberg's efforts to make a period piece that also felt like a period film, but it could just because Harrison Ford's wisecracking archeologist felt so welcome on our screens and in our imaginations. Hell, if the theme song isn't already in your head by now, your parents failed you. Indy knew when to run and when to fight, and when to just shoot the guy with the swords. He can swing from a whip, outrun a boulder, and even get hit on by a girl's eyelids. He was getting too old for this shit before Murtaugh was even a twinkle in Danny Glover's eye, and he stands by his convictions like a real man; hell, he refuses to believe in magic even after seeing a guy get his heart ripped out in the everybody-forgets-it's-a-prequel Temple of Doom. He's a badass you've known since you watched that VHS of Last Crusade at your cousin's 7th birthday, and he's a badass you'll want to be every time you see a whip, from now until the end of your days.
6) Sanjuro Kuwabatake (played by Toshiro Mifune)- Yojimbo & Sanjuro
As a film fan, especially a lover of Kurosawa and the jidaigeki genre, picking one Toshiro Mifune role is like picking children. He was the Japanese Samuel L. Jackson. He was badass personified. He brought badassness to even the worst of roles. But if forced to chose the best of them all, you kinda gotta go with Yojimbo, the film so brilliant its been ripped off and remade countless times, most famously by Sergio Leone as A Fistful of Dollars. That's right, The Man With No Name has a daddy, and his name is Sanjuro Kuwabatake. A yojimbo, or bodyguard, hired by two rival crime lords, bits the two against one another to save the town they run. The character was so beloved that Kurosawa quickly changed the script of his next film to make a sequel. The deadly ronin only ever had two films, but there have been countless spiritual sequels spawned from Mifune's righteous killer.
5) John McClane (played by Bruce Willis)- The Die Hard series
Die Hard is considered by many to be the greatest action film of all time. Its protagonist ranked 12th on Empire Magazine's "100 Greatest Movie Characters of All Time". His catchphrase is the greatest movie quote you can't say on TV. Not bad for a NY cop who just wanted to get rid of his jet lag. And even if the more recent entries have been pissing in the Die Hard pool, the McClane chlorine of kick-ass will never run dry. At his best when battle German-accented Englishmen, McClane redefined what an action hero could be. Q once advised 007 to "never let them see you bleed". McClane violates that advice every frame of his films, especially after dashing across broken glass. Certain superspies are always impeccably dressed. McClane fights terrorists barefoot in a tank top. And while Mr. Bond gets by on gadget after gadget from Q branch, McClane is lucky if he gets a machine gun (ho, ho, ho). Compared to the Rambos and Rocks of the world, Bond is the thinking man's action hero. But with McClane, they're as equal as they are opposite. Also, for the sake of clarification: I'm aware the movie Die Hard is loosely based on the book Nothing Lasts Forever. But that screenplay was later adapted as a Commando sequel, and then eventually remorphed into the ass-kicker we have today. And while the plot is similar (building is held hostage, villain named Gruber), John McClane has shit-all to do with some World War 2 fighter pilot named Joe Leland.
4) Nurse "Coffy" Coffin (played by Pam Grier)- Coffy
I'll come clean: Until I remembered my own rule about "no characters from books", John Shaft occupied this slot. I'd forgotten the 1971 film was based on a 1970 novel of the same name. I was all ready to justify Shaft beating John McClane and Indy. To explain that he's a complicated man, that he's a sex machine, and that he'll risk his neck for his brother man. That he's one bad mother…well, you know the rest. But alas, Shaft is ineligible for this list. I wasn't sure what to do, until I remembered Coffy. If Shaft kickstarted the blaxplotiation genre, Coffy solidified it, as well as Pam Grier's status as a legend of the genre. Coffy is all those things: complicated, sexy, heroic and self sacrificing. Hell, she does everything Shaft does, and still finds time to be a nurse in her day job. Though Grier would play similar roles in Foxy Brown, Sheba Baby, and an homage to her B-movie roots in Tarantino's Jackie Brown, nothing would ever top the pure badassery of Nurse Coffy.
3) Ellen Ripley (played by Sigourney Weaver)- The Alien series
Though Ellen Ripley is undoubtedly the ballsiest women in space, she was originally supposed to be even ballsier. As in, having balls. Ripley was written as a man, but in a stroke of genius and major risk-taking, they changed it to a female. This isn't to suggest women can't be action heroes, or that they're any less capable than men. It's just that in the Hollywood landscape at the time, there weren't a lot of leading ladies who could carry such an intense role, because up until that point, the delicate flowers were the only ones allowed to rise to the top. Hell, before Ripley, the closest thing we had to an Alpha female was Annie Hall cause she wore a tie. Though Annie Hall is more closely tied to the Alien franchise than just that. It was, in fact, Woody Allen's date from the end of the film (a then relatively unknown Sigourney Weaver) who took on the role of the Nostromo crew member who ends up the "final girl" of this slasher film in space, except unlike Sidney Campbell or Nancy Thompson, this one is armed to the teeth and ready to go. Yes, its true that Ripley has only ever been understood by James Cameron (The man behind Fight Club not being able to write for women, I get that. But the dude who did Amelie? I expect more), but Sigourney always embed her with a confidence and edge that makes her by far one of the most badass characters, on this planet or any.
2) The Man With No Name (played by Clint Eastwood)- The Dollars Trilogy
The monicker "The Man With No Name" could be further from the truth. In reality, Clint's gunslinger has three. In A Fistful of Dollars they call him Joe, For A Few Dollars More dubs him Manco, and of course Tuco frequently calls him Blondie in The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. Whatever name you know him as, you know the man. A man of few words, but many bullets. A man with a sneer on his face, a cigarillo in his mouth, a poncho on his shoulders and a gun at his hip. With an intensity conveyed as much through Ennio Morricone's score as Clint Eastwood's performance, The Man With No Name might be one of the most important figures in cinema history. His is the face that changed the Western forever. His is the spirit that lives on in countless heroes, from shameless ripoffs like The Driver in Drive to spiritual sons like Walt Kowalski in Gran Torino. Because really, as a man, if you've ever walked away from any moment of badassery in your own life, be it a fight you won or just a parking ticket you talked your way out of, you hear in your head "The Ecstacy of Gold" swelling behind you.
1) Han Solo (played by Harrison Ford)- The Star Wars (for now) Trilogy
It had to be. There's no other choice. It's Han Solo. It has been Han Solo, and it will always be Han Solo. No matter who you think should beat him, you're wrong. You like your cowboys? Your John Waynes and Clint Eastwoods? Boom, Han Solo is a cowboy, but in space. And Chewbacca is a way better companion than Tuco. You like James Bond for being suave, his love 'em and leave 'em attitude, and always having a quip up his sleeve? Han Solo is always ready with a cool line, can win over even a princess, and you want love 'em and leave 'em? Cause it don't get much better than being frozen in carbonite, and having your last words in response to "I love you" be "I know". Prefer Ripley's willingness to defy the odds when outnumbered by aliens? Shit, Han doesn't just defy the odds, he ignores them. And don't even think about telling him them. And as for Indy fans? He is Indiana Jones. But with a spaceship. Han is what makes those Star Wars movies magical. He adds an air of whimsy and badass to an otherwise heavy story of destiny and good vs. evil. Arguably the best part of the original trilogy, practically inarguably the best part of Return of the Jedi (the only thing making the Endor segments tolerable), Han is essential to the Star Wars mythos. Just think what a Star Wars movie would be like without Han. Actually, we know what that looks like, and it looks like a crap ton of CGI and a racist fish person.
So there's my list. You can find Josh's list over here on his blog, and feel free to leave a comment. I'm sure there are some folks raring to argue. I look forward to hearing folks thoughts. Even if its just "Josh was right". To be fair, I haven't seen his list. There could be overlap. They could be completely different. But if you like this kind of stuff, two takes on a list, well, there's something special in the works, rest assured.
Well, it's time once again for a year-end wrap up, dear readers. I'm sure the two of you have already scanned all the "This Year in Film" wrap ups from The New York Times, Entertainment Weekly, and all those awards shows and such, but have been wondering what the guy who praised Kung Fu Panda 2 last year thought. I made no effort to hide my belief that last year was a rough year for movies (and music, and pretty much any other art form) but this year was different. Yes, I did a Top Twenty instead of a Top Ten this year, and that is in part due to my going to the cinema more often, but those cinema trips were fueled by the fact that this was overall a terrific year for movies. For once in my lifetime, there's no clear and obvious Oscar frontrunner, documentaries made critics best lists, Michael Haneke and David O. Russell are being talked about in mainstream publications, and Batman lived up to my expectation that it wouldn't live up to people's expectations. Just to clarify, I'm making my picks of the best films to debut in the year 2012, which unfortunately excludes some great films that had theatrical runs in 2012 but premiered in the previous year, but I'll list some stand-outs from that category at the end. Last year's post helped some people find Bellflower who wouldn't have otherwise done so (the post has so far gotten 500+ hits, which is astounding to say the least) and I can only hope to encourage people to seek out some of this year's highlights.
The Top Twenty Films of 2012
20) Wreck-It Ralph
I know Pixar is all the rage, and their praise is well deserved, but while Disney's artsier offspring has been churning out average entries the past two years (Cars 2 and Brave, respectively), Disney has been doing some pretty bold work on their own. 2010's Tangled tread the now standard "Disney Princess" turf, but added in some action and angst to hook young boys and win over the teenage girls who's parents "just don't understand". Yet the sharp writing, shockingly dark tone, and pop-culture infused world of Wreck-It Ralph truly proves that Disney, while buying up pretty much all of 80's pop culture (Marvel, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Muppets), can still make a fun and exciting film. A Who Framed Roger Rabbit for the 8 bit set, Wreck-It Ralph is full of video game references both blatant (Pac-Man makes a cameo at Fix-It Felix's party) and subtle (graffiti on a wall reading "Aerith Lives", a nod to the most traumatic moment of any gamer's 1997), but that's not it's best quality. Rather, it's the boldness of its storytelling, returning to the kind of adventurous, thrilling story that pervaded Disney's earlier films, where heroes had missions, and the consequences of failure were grim. Even more impressively, Ralph manages to surprise the audience, or at least take a twist that this jaded film junkie didn't predict. For once, the term "fun for the whole family" doesn't just mean "You can take your kids". (In Theatres)
19) Kill List
On the one hand, it's tragic this British thriller by Ben Wheatley was in and out of theatres so quickly. With a plot that twists and turns on par with early Nolan, Kill List should have been the talk of the town. Though for the benefit of the individual viewer, it's perhaps good there's been little talk of the film. To even begin to describe it will give away too much. It's best to go in blind, with no expectations, no idea of the plot. Hell, don't even look up the genre. In this age of information, how often does a film genuinely surprise us? Even when directors try and keep things under wraps, our speculation is likely to spoil it. Someone is gonna guess that the island is purgatory, or that Zod will be in the new Superman, or that JGL is nauseatingly Robin. Yet Kill List, being such a small film, allows the viewer to go in with a cleansed pallet, and what is meant to shock will shock, what is meant to confound will confound, and what's meant to thrill will most certainly thrill. (Available on DVD)
18) The Cabin In The Woods
You don't need me to expound upon the virtues of Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard's meta-horror masterpiece. Much like the rest of Whedon's efforts, there's no corner of the internet that hasn't praised this genre deconstruction that functions like Community for the tits and zombies set, and rightfully so. As Scream did for the slasher film, Cabin sets out to pick apart and play off of the cliches of the "cabin in the woods" flicks like The Evil Dead. Yet Scream merely broke apart the genre in order to build something new. Cabin In The Woods performs instead a dissection, examining the horror film in order to determine just why we're so fascinated by the genre, and why we keep coming back to it, cliches and all. With references even the most avid horror fan might miss (including some subtle high praise for Robert Rodriguez's The Faculty), Cabin is powered mostly by a script full of what can only be dubbed as "Whedon-isms", and a desire to provoke thought along with screams. It may not go down as one of the greatest horror films of all time, but it will most certainly go down as one of the smartest. (Available on DVD)
17) Zero Dark Thirty
I have been wrestling with this film since I left the theatre a month ago. Never before have I experienced a film where my opinion has fluctuated practically on a daily basis. When I left the theatre, I loathed the film for being overly long, inconsistent and utterly pointless. A masturbation for the militant middle class that glorified torture, and a film that switched tones abruptly mid-way through and ultimately serves no purpose other than to play off of American rage. But the very next day, I rethought the film, and had a new appreciation for the artful storytelling, the morally ambiguous characters, and the glorification, not of torture, but of the skill and sacrifice of our intelligence service, who were the brains behind the Bin Laden raid while Seal Team Six (at least by the film's depiction) were just glorified hit men. Even now, one day I'll see Zero Dark Thirty as one of the year's best films, other days I'll feel as though I stand with the few criticsbold enoughto takeon Bigelow'sbeast. I'll admit that at time's the intelligence gathering got dull, and the "I love things go 'splodey" side of me (representing the thought process that contributed to many of the ticket sales, I'm sure) was just waiting for the raid, which even on my most anti-Zero Dark days I must admit was brilliantly directed. Yet even when I like the film, I have to admit that the film feels, for the first half, as though it's building towards the message it likely had when Bigelow was in pre-production in the pre-Bin-Laden-getting-got days, that torture is wrong and 12 years later we're no step closer to him, the horrors of war, etc. Instead, it switches gears halfway, throwing off the "horrors of torture tone" the first half had, when the first shred of evidence crops up and makes it a noble quest. Zero Dark Thirty takes an attitude, at least it would seem, that torture is necessary at times. That it's ok to used enhanced interrogation in order to achieve the greater good. And people have been using its message as something to critique it for, enough that Bigelow has backed down and said it doesn't endorse torture, just depict it. I, for one, praise that, not its message, but the film for having the balls to have a message that goes against the mainstream. I can respect Atlas Shrugged for putting forth ideas that wouldn't otherwise be voiced without agreeing with that, and the same goes for Zero Dark. By promoting torture, it sparks a discussion. A discussion I'm still having internally, both about the message of the film and the execution of it as an art form, to this day. Zero Dark may not stand the test of time as "the best film of 2012" (seriously, NY Critics Circle?), but it stays with the viewer, and that alone makes it worth a watch. (In Theatres)
16) The Invisible War
2012 was a great year for documentaries, that's almost inarguable. The Invisible War stands out, not for any bold new style of filmmaking, but for the frankness with which it tackles its subject. Yes, perhaps the more informed civilians may be aware that rape occurs within the military, its unlikely that those outside of what the film depicts as the world's biggest gang realize just how much of an epidemic rape of both female and male service members is. The hardest part of the film to swallow isn't the statistics (such as "Out of over 3,000 rape accusations made in the past year, less than 300 have turned into convictions), nor the testimonials of the victims, but when the film just sits back quietly and follows Coast Guard veteran Kori Cioca as she attempts, not even to get justice for her rape, but simply to get the Department of Veteran Affairs to cover her treatment for injuries sustained during her brutal sexual assault. To discover that military rape isn't handled by courts, but rather by the accuser's superior officer (who cannot be accused of a conflict of interest, no matter what their relationship is with the accused, and yes, even if they're the accused), is a harsh reality, but one that must be confronted. Please, people, don't avoid this just because "I don't like to watch sad stuff". Become aware, it's what documentaries are for. To wake us up from the Quentin and Chris Nolan fantasy coma and see the world around us, to provoke action, to provoke change. Because before we start asking more of our women in uniform (namely, asking them to serve actively in combat) perhaps we should examine what we have already forced them to endure. (Available on DVD and Netflix Instant)
15) The Avengers
The irony of this following the "Quentin and Chris Nolan fantasy coma" crack does not escape me. Yet, The Avengers deserves high praise. Is it the greatest comic book movie of all time? No. The best of the year? I'd say yes. And, angry internet-ers, I'm aware the third part of the Holy Bat-Trinity graced screens this year. But while the Dark Knight was giving himself a colonoscopy with his own head, Joss Whedon brought something back to the big budget action film what had been missing for a while. I believe that thing was called fun. Yes, dear reader, you're allowed to make a smartly written, action packed film that's still fun. Even those who praise Bruce Wayne's last stand can't call the film fun. Whether it's Batman or Bond, Perseus or Peter Parker, we're in the era of the gritty reboot. It seemed as though the days where you could smile through the course of a comic book movie (and not in a manic, love of destruction, "The Joker/Bane is so cool" kinda way) were gone, replaced by "realism", which long story short means shaking cameras and taking yourself a bit to seriously. But then, something magical happened. The man behind the original vampire teen drama took four blockbuster comic book movies (and that Hulk one), extrapolated the best parts, and threw it all together with a witty script, and crafted the most joyful thrill-ride of the summer, and perhaps of the year. He changed how we looked at superhero movies ever since Nolan changed how we looked at superhero movies. That you could adapt comics without throwing them out the window completely. That you didn't have to even be reality based anymore, that if you have a good script and great characters, we as viewers will gladly watch the sky fill with creatures from another dimension while a demi-god and a monster wreck buildings. And that these explosions and fist-fights can be parrelled with quiet moments of character development, mainly by Whedon exploring his favorite topic, strong yet vulnerable women, by finally giving one of Marvel's best creations, Black Widow, her cinematic due. Finally, a franchise I can have full confidence in. (Available on DVD)
14) The Grey
Neither the "Grace Under Pressure" attitude of Ernest Hemingway's novels nor the "Man is, when in nature, a glorious beast" sentiment of Jack London's have ever truly made it through in their cinematic adaptations. Finally, though, the perfect fusion of Hemingway and London occurred on the silver screen, and astoundingly it came from the guy who made The A-Team. The film is, admittedly, utterly masculine. But for once, that isn't an insult. It's a pre-Stallone masculine. It's masculine from a time when masculine and intelligent weren't antonyms. It's not enough to say they don't make movies like this anymore, they don't even make stories like this anymore, and believe me, I've been searching for years. Liam Neeson leads a group of Alaskan oil mean stranded in the frozen wood, being hunted by wolves with nothing but bits of the plane and their wits to survive. Neeson haunts the screen bringing an honesty to the role of a man tortured by the death of his wife as only a man in his position can, and upon first viewing the film could simply be seen as a tale of survival, not just against the elements but against sorrow. But much like the best works of Papa, there's much more to it than that. Every movie can be boiled down to one of five conflicts: Man against Man, Man Against Nature, Man Against Machine, Man Against God, or Man Against Himself. Rarely does a film tackle all five, and never has one done so with such passion and grace as The Grey. Brilliant from start to finish. (Available on DVD and Netflix Instant)
13) Beasts of the Southern Wild
How much is real and how much is in the mind of 9 year old Hushpuppy will be a matter of debate for decades to come. The only thing that we can be sure of is that Hushpuppy is the best "through the eyes of a child" narrator since Scout told us about ol' Boo Radley. Even if the film wasn't visually astounding, or narratively compelling, the performance given by Quvenzhane Wallis alone would make the film memorable. A deceptively simple film about life on the Louisiana bayou, a film equal parts fantasy and a coming-of-age allegory, Beasts of the Southern Wild doesn't have a singular message. It asks you to find something within Hushpuppy or her world to connect to, and then to take the ride, and see what you pick up along the way, like a fishing net alongside the raft on which Hushpuppy and her daddy ride. It takes no concrete stance (the people depicted as living the "good life" happy and simple at the beginning become unreasonable, ornery assholes when brought to the shelter for help), makes no damning criticism of anything. Some may dismiss it as "indie", or "artsy". Some may describe it as pointless, or "about Katrina". Yet those are labels that they brought into the theatre with them. They reviewed it before the projector was even turned on. That's how we view most films these days. We come in with certain expectations, and then ask the movie to either meet or defy them. Beasts doesn't do that. It doesn't want to, and it shouldn't have to. It wants to take you with it from point A to point B, and let you pick up what you can along the way. You've already bought the ticket, how about you take the ride too? (Available on DVD)
12) Searching for Sugar Man
My write up here will be similar to the one for Kill List, I'm afraid: I don't want to discuss the film too much for fear of spoiling it. Yet, "spoilers" are rarely a thing that can occur with documentaries. Indeed, how can one "spoil" history? It's cold fact, nothing deceptive. Yet Searching For Sugar Man, in chronicling two South Africans search for informationAmerican folk artist named Rodriguez (who never made it in America but is bigger than Elvis in Cape Town), takes turns so unexpected it out-thrills this year's other manhunt flick by a mile. Peppered with the music from his two failed albums, you get to see how a man who, legend has it, committed suicide during his final concert in Detroit could inspire a generation of anti-Apartheid protesters and become a South African folk hero. Yet, with all of the questions the film explores and answers (and there are many, and the search for the truth will leave you on the edge of your seat, I promise), the one thing it can't explain is how such a gifted artist went unnoticed in America. (Available on DVD)
11) Lincoln
Let's get this out of the way: Lincoln is a Hollywood film, in every sense of the word. In the same way there is classical music, and classical literature, there will some day be recognized "classical movies". It's not a matter of time period of production, either. It's a matter of composition. The tone, the story, etc. Lincoln is the type of film that could have been made 20, 30, 50 years ago. Nothing is new or innovative, there's no Kubrikian angles, no Wes Anderson quirk, nothing modern, or hip, or new or distinct. It is, for all intents and purposes, a traditional movie. But when did "traditional" become synonymous with bad? Within the confines of "traditional" filmmaking, Spielberg crafted a technically flawless depiction of our nation's greatest leader at the most tumultuous time in his presidency. Daniel-Day Lewis, Tommy Lee Jones and James Spader give career-best performances (while Joseph Gordon Levitt does his second performance this year of "peripheral and unnecessary character"). Angels In America scribe Tony Kushner penned a (minus the beginning and end) brilliant and human script, and Spielberg runs with it for all the emotion he can pack into 2 and a half hours. Lincoln may not break ground, but it tells an important story, and it tells it well. (In Theatres)
10) Ted
No one was really sure what to expect when Seth McFarlane took to the big screen. On the one hand, he made Family Guy. On the other, he made The Cleveland Show. When the premise was pitched as "Mark Wahlberg talks to a teddy bear", many already were sharpening their critical blades, ready to take down the behemoth that rules over Sunday nights. Instead, what we got was one of the cleverest films of the year, as well as one of the funniest. Rife with memorable scenes, driven by an endearingly vulgar CGI bear, Ted can be taken at face value and thoroughly enjoyed. Yet McFarlane also uses the film to tackle the obstacle that rises up in every young man's life as he progresses to adulthood: the slacker best friend. The form of a teddy bear allows us to better grasp the bond between John and Ted, but in reality, everyone has had the stoner friend, the loser friend, the one who's good for a laugh if not their share of the rent. McFarlane taps into that nerve to make the dramatic moments between John, Ted and Laurie within the "cavalcade of comedy"honest rather than forced, unlike the kidnapping plot that sneaks in at the end. Is Ted a perfect film? No. Is it a fantastic debut film for first time director McFarlane? Absolutely. The pros outweigh the cons in this year's most rewatchable comedy. (Available on DVD)
9) Skyfall
As much as I want to leave expectations and doubt at the door for movies, I couldn't help but come in jaded for the newest entry in the James Bond franchise. I grew up with Bond, watched every film on VHS, bought the DVD box set when Die Another Day was entering theatres. I loved the sensibility of the series, the fact that James Bond was the action hero for the Playboy set. That for once an action hero has Don Draper and not Rambo. That his suit and his sex life mattered as much as his gun. So when reviews came in for Casino Royale from critics saying "I've hated all the other James Bond films, but this one was terrific", it made me nervous. Sure enough, I went in hoping for a new James Bond movie, and instead I got The Bond Identity. Where was the humor? Where was the style? The seduction? The gadgets? Where was anything to make this different than any other action film? The gritty reboot had hit my hero, and while others were praising the Bourne knock-off as "fresh and new", I was predicting a disastrous path towards nonsensical action films worthy of Jason Statham on an off day. Sure enough, in a franchise that includes Moonraker and Die Another Day, the "fresh and new" Daniel Craig Bond produced the worst film of the franchise as an immediate follow up, Quantum of Solace. So I had given up on Bond. Let the short memory critics have this new "blunt instrument" Bond, declaring it "the best Bond film" as though Goldfinger and From Russia With Love never happened. With Mr. American Beauty at the helm of the newest installment, I wasn't just hesitant, I was full on dismissive. I'd been burned twice by this blonde Bond, I didn't need to get my hopes up a third time. Sitting in the theatre, a very Bourne-esque, shaky cam car-and-bike chase kicks off and I get ready to dose off into a testosterone coma, but then something magical happened. Bond jumped into the now blown open back of a moving train...and he takes a pause to adjust his cufflinks. It was funny. It made Bond about style again. It felt like a moment ripped from the Connery days, ripped from the Bond of Mendes' childhood, and indeed of mine. From there, Bond is accidentally shot and submerged into water (more Bourne imagery, but after the cufflinks thing, I'll forgive it) leading into one of the best credit sequences with one of the best themes in Bond history. Sam Mendes creates a film that attempts to revive the Bond franchise, not by going gritty, but by going back to the well, in a way. Remembering what made it great in the first place. Bond was in a rough patch, but he has been in the past, when The Spy Who Loved Me gave Roger Moore's Bond his own identity, when License to Kill saved it from the brink of silliness, when Goldeneye brought fun back to the franchise. As Bond says in Skyfall, he's in the resurrection business. The film is thrilling, smart, and modern, all while being true to the Bond of yesteryear. Daniel Craig triumphs as the Bond he was always meant to be, matchin wits with Silva, one of the franchise's best villians played with menace and malice by Javier Bardem. Judie Dench finally gets to put her phenomenal acting to use in a script that attempts to examine why the modern world needs old fashioned espionage, and more importantly, why pop culture needs an old fashioned James Bond. Why it's important not to try and keep up with today's hip trend, but instead to keep true to the classic cool. As a die hard Bond fan, it's still astounding to see a modern take on 007 soar so high, with brilliant set pieces and the best cinematography of any Bond film, making it the best in the franchise since Auric told Mr. Bond he expects him to die. Homages to past incarnations abound, Skyfall proves you don't have to reinvent a franchise in order to revive it. (In theaters)
8) Silver Linings Playbook
David O. Russell is by far one of the most misunderstood and criminally underrated filmmakers in cinema today. Due to a few leaked set videos, many deride Russell as a loose cannon, an emotionally immature lunatic. Having met the man and talked with him for a fair amount of time, it offends me to see such things suggested; at least to me, Russell is one of the nicest, most genuine and friendly men I've ever had the fortune to meet. If he is prone to emotional outbursts, this doesn't make him a bad person. It simply makes him passionate, perhaps passionate beyond his control. That shouldn't deny him credit for his good qualities, nor the love and admiration of his peers. It's a plea not only I make, but that he himself makes for the sake of the protagonist of his most sincere and touching film to date, Silver Linings Playbook. When Russell makes a film, he doesn't make a genre film. Rather, much like Lars Von Trier, Russell puts his own spin on the genre until its barely recognizable and wonderfully unique. Three Kings is a war film that really plays like a heist flick (complete with George Clooney leader); I Heart Huckabees is an existentialist mediation that can keep up with the best stoner comedies; The Fighter is a family drama under the guise of a sports movie; and Silver Linings Playbook is filled with such human and honest performances that you don't realize its followed every cliche of a romantic comedy until the very end. Silver Linings is a love story, but it's also a plea for understanding, and in light of recent events, it came at the right time. (In Theatres)
7) Argo
After a pulse-pounder like The Town, it's no surprise Ben Affleck's directing career would build up to something as masterfully orchestrated as Argo. The surprise is that it got there so quickly. The film is a tour-de-force of suspense rivaling Hitchcock's tales of espionage, all the more engaging for its historical accuracy. Two CIA thrillers came out this year, and somehow the more captivating and beloved of the two has nary a gunshot fired. The intelligence community triumphs with not violence but...intelligence. To look at the story objectively, a CIA agents fakes a movie to smuggle hostages out of Iran, there's not a lot there to make even a one hour movie, yet with a combination of Chris Terrio's clever script and Affleck's ingenious directing and underrated acting, Argo feels not a minute too long, presenting the facts, without ever having to "Hollywood it up". (In Theatres)
6) Moonrise Kingdom
This was a year for typically "cult" directors to make their most accessible works to date, be it Whedon, Haneke or indie poster boy Wes Anderson. In what is either his best film since The Royal Tennenbaums or perhaps his best film altogether, Wes Anderson tells a coming of age tale that doesn't actually attempt to mirror anyone's coming of age. Unlike every other "growing up" tale that attempts to connect to the audiences memories ("Remember the first time you and your buddies found your dad's old porno mag?" "Remember when you used to walk the railroad tracks and listen to Frankie Valli?"), Moonrise Kingdom doesn't assume anybody can relate to running away from your Boy Scout troop in a horrific storm to hide out with your teenage love on the island of New Penzance. Instead, it attempts to connect to emotions, to sentiments, to the genuine feeling of being a lost youth (both physically and emotionally) experiencing the first sensations of attraction (and mistaking it for love). Artfully directed and shot with Anderson's usual flair for deadpan delivery and brilliant colors, Moonrise creates a prequel to his other films by showing the emotionally drained narcissists he frequently depicts in their younger, more hopeful stages. From Bruce Willis' best role in years to an extraordinary stand out performance from Kara Hayward as Susie, the spiritual daughter to Margot Tennenbaum, Moonrise Kingdom manages to cast a much wider net in terms of relatability without sacrificing one iota of Anderson's signature style.
5) How To Survive A Plague
For those whose education on the history of the AIDS crisis came from Angels in America, one assumes that once AZT hit the scene, the hardship was over. How To Survive A Plague, a brilliant patchwork of interviews and an astounding amount of historical footage, documents the struggle for AIDS activists freedom to survive. Standing out as the best in a year of great documentaries, Plague captures the anger of the time, while showing not just the struggle in front of the ACT UP coalition, but the struggle from within, serving as a warning for how any political movement can be torn apart by a few fringe extremists. Though every time you get swept up in the story of the group as a parable for Occupy Wall Street's failure or whatever political movement you want to connect it to, the film finds the right moment to jump back in with the severity of the matter at hand. In the middle of a heated debate about policy during an ACT Up meeting, Normal Heart author Larry Kramer interjects that "We're in the middle of a fucking plague! And this is how you behave?" By waiting until the end to tell you who of those we followed was lost and who are still suffering, the film not only shows how far we've come, but how much is still left to be done.
4) Holy Motors
Holy Motors is a bizarre, confounding thing of a film, maddening in its ambition, its scope and its imagery. Its also an astoundingly brilliant expressionist scattershot of vignettes that are interconnected by a central character and a central message. One cannot even attempt to say what the film means, only what the film means to them. Every vignette is a metaphor for the state of cinema, what the vignettes add up to is a separate metaphor for the state of cinema, what you the viewer enjoy and don't enjoy is yet another metaphor for the state of cinema and so forth. The film isn't so much a puzzle to be solved but a mandala of metaphors, an object to be observed with an open mind, one that shuts out judgements or interpretations, to let the images sink in and be comprehended hours or days after the fact. Its a film which can be revisited again and again as homage, as satire, as drama, as science fiction. As a mockery of the absurdity to which cinema has sunk, or the absurdity it had always been. Denis Lavant deserves a fair chunk of praise for his role as Mr. Oscar, the "actor" of the variety of "real life movies" (I can only assume that's what they are), which forces him to take on at least 10 different distinct characters within one film. Mr. Oscar's driver being played by Edith Scob could be attributed to a love for the French cinema of yesteryear, or perhaps a statement on our reverence for "the classics" and our attempts to constantly revive them. Or perhaps Ms. Scob's casting has more to do with her most famous role, Eyes Without A Face, and how that title might relate to the modern audience. It's not that there's no real way of knowing, it's simply that there is nothing to "know". Just things to understand. Holy Motors isn't made for an audience so much as each individual viewer. Anyone who sits down for Holy Motors has the pleasure of Leos Carax hurling an innumerable amount of images and ideas at them, and seeing what sticks. It's highly unlikely any two people will leave the theatre with the same interpretation, and in this cinematic landscape of criticism and academia, its rare that that's ok. With Holy Motors, it's more than ok, it's intended. There's nothing to "get right", but there are so many things to "get".
3) Django Unchained
It's undeniable that Quentin Tarantino is one of the most important and influential directors of his generation, if not necessarily the most artistic or original. Of course, people declare Tarantino groundbreaking, and it's true, but groundbreaking in the way the Beastie Boys were when they created Paul's Boutique. Quentin doesn't necessarily create anything new, but instead acts as a cinematic DJ, taking elements of films he loves, combining them and putting his own spin on it, which results in something entertaining for cinephiles and something original for people who have never seen a film pre-1980. There has been no message to his work, no central theme beyond the most visceral of "revenge". There's nothing to "get" about the films beyond enjoying the B-movie aesthetic the 90's made hip. And while he has evolved as a filmmaker from the more story-heavy films of the 90's (Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown) to the visual spectacles of the 00's (Kill Bill, Inglourious Basterds), one can hardly say he has matured. There's only so much artistically one can extrapolate from Pulp Fiction as opposed to, say, Taxi Driver or Le Doulos or Bande a Part (the last from which Quentin derived the name for his production company), and there is a point of diminishing returns on his films for everything except the basest love of carnage. Yet how would Tarantino's critically beloved ability to infuse Leone-esque Western sensibilities into other genres (samurai, World War II, etc) play out when the main genre he's tackling is a Western? Very well, it turns out. References to both classics (The Great Silence) and forgotten B-flicks (the titular Django meets his Italian namesake in one clever scene) work themselves into a film that transcends vengeance to display Tarantino's first explicit attempts at imagery, symbolism and a deeper meaning, and a political one at that. Of course, it has his trademark flair for brilliant musical moments and high-octane gore, but the most impressive aspect (aside from Leo DiCaprio's stellar slave owner Calvin Candy, who manages to dethrone last film's Hans Landa as "most vile Tarantino villain") is the maturity displayed on screen, using what is essentially yet another pretty B-movie to convey Tarantino's take, not just on slavery, but on oppression in general. That Django's freedom can only come when he is stripped of all servitude (voluntary or otherwise) and he slays his true enemy, which isn't slavery nor the white man, but rather the uncle Tom attitude which is holding him back. Django isn't out to defy the government, nor the law, but to defy stereotypes, to defy the societally forced role of the black man, and only then can he be free. Astoundingly profound from a man whose only message thus far was "Vengeance is good cinema". Quentin has stated his desire to retire after a few more films, and much like when Kevin Smith released Red State, one cannot help but feel saddened that these directors would leave us just as they've made their biggest artistic leap.
2) The Master
It's enigmatic trailer drove a lot of curious minds to the theatre in the hopes of gaining clarification on the mystery P.T. Anderson presented. What we left with instead were many more questions. The film is, undoubtedly, a puzzle. P.T. Anderson's usually straightforward, grounded style is eschewed in favor of a centrifuge of ideas and emotions all tossed around, reminiscent of Slaughterhouse Five's blend of moments to create tone while still throwing the audience any time it thinks it has a grasp on the meaning of the work. The film's "message", if it has one, doesn't become clear until long after one has left its seat, and the internal debates the film instigates will last even longer. With cinematography as sharp as There Will Be Blood and performances as stellar as Magnolia, P.T. Anderson's puzzle is a glorious one, and one well worth solving.
1) Amour
It starts with a woman dead on her bed, adorned in flowers. For those who saw the poster or heard the premise of a man caring for his suffering wife, its startling to have the film give away the ending. Yet its giving nothing away by showing the body. Haneke doesn't care to keep you in suspense of whether Ms. Laurent, played with heart-wrenching honesty by Emmanuelle Riva, is going to survive her slow decay. She doesn't. The film isn't about death, so the death isn't important. The film is, as the title suggests, about love. In a year that yielded puzzles like Holy Motors and The Master, the typically cryptic Haneke (who out-puzzles them all with the haunting Cache) makes a film more simple than any other this year: The film is about suffering, and how we endure it. Jean-Louis Trintignant's Georges suffers himself in order to ease his wife's suffering, yet his wife wishes to die and only continues to suffer for her husband's sake. But even that description attempts to give the film more academic meaning, and fails it. What Haneke does, through a series of long take and motionless camera, is give an unflinching portrait of suffering, and the slow death we will all one day face, either in the role of George or Anne. Any other film would cutaway and make reference to Anne losing control of her bowels, or show her briefly try to utter a sentence before pulling away to have other cast members discuss it. Because witnessing it is too hard. Haneke doesn't move away. He puts it there, the entirety of George discovering Anne's stained sheets, lifting her feebly from the bed, and carrying her to wash her down. He devote whole minutes to watching Anne attempt to assemble a sentence, while her eyes show such anguish at the comprehension that she is uttering nonsense. Haneke does this, not to make the audience suffer, not to shock or to horrify, but because he intends to capture humanity more truly than any other filmmaker has. The film isn't somber, it isn't bleak. Its simply reality. And the actions depicted are the definition of love, more than any other film has depicted. No more is Haneke hinting at elements of humanity, he is simply capturing life, and connecting with those he has never before reached. This is love.
Other "Best of the Year" Accolades
Best Director of the Year:
Michael Haneke for Amour
One of the few filmmakers to win the Palme D'Or twice, Haneke's latest film is also his most gripping, most powerful, and most accessible. He's the most honest filmmaker working today, and he created beauty out of suffering. He's one of the true masters of the craft, and is undoubtedly the year's finest director.
Runner-Up: P.T. Anderson for The Master
Best Screenplay of the Year:
Quentin Tarantino for Django Unchained
The maturity of his newest film has already been discuss at length above, and its deserving of the awards its already received, particularly the script, which blends his trademark wit with gripping drama.
Runner-Up: Seth McFarlane and Alex Sulkin for Ted
Best Cinematography of the Year
Dariusz Wolski for Prometheus
Though Prometheus, which in the end was the Alien prequel everybody said it wouldn't be, was underwhelming to say the least. The one thing it had going for it were stunning visuals, and for that, credit must be given to the always brilliant Dariusz Wolski, whose dark tone has added layer of beauty and uneasiness to the likes of The Crow and Dark City. Prometheus is undeniably a great film to look at, if not a great film to watch.
Runner-Up: Roger Deakins for Skyfall
Best Editing of the Year:
William Goldenberg for Argo
Goldenberg creates tension in even the quietest moments, making a tense thriller to rival Skyfall and Zero Dark Thirty with none of the body count. An impressive feat indeed.
Runner-Up: Nelly Quettier for Holy Motors
Best Score of the Year:
Thomas Newman for Skyfall
To best Hans Zimmer in a year when he scores a Batman film is impressive. So is finding a Bond film where moments are scored with more than just the trumpet blare of the theme song. Newman creates a subtle and nuanced score for Mendes' MI6 masterpiece and adds to the film's serious and engaging tone.
Runner-Up: Jonny Greenwood for The Master
Best Song of the Year
"Skyfall" by Adele for Skyfall
Her Bond theme is sweeping awards, and rightfully so. Reminiscent of the Shirley Bassie classics while still fitting the modern age, "Skyfall" the song does what Skyfall the movie does, brings the classic cool of Bond to a new age without having to pander to the popular trends. Lyrically capturing the tone of Silva's controlling villainy instead of just being the typical subtext of "Get it, Bond sleeps with women", "Skyfall" will remain one of the top Bond themes for a long time to come.
Runner-Up: "Who Were We?" by Kylie Minogue from Holy Motors
Best Actor of the Year
Denis Lavant as Mr. Oscar in Holy Motors
I could give all the praise in the world for Lavant's portrayal of Mr. Oscar and the many roles he plays, and I attempted to do just that in the above paragraph on Holy Motors. He was given far more shoes to fill than any other actor this year, and did it with astounding skill.
Runner-Up: Daniel-Day Lewis as Abraham Lincoln in Lincoln
Best Actress of the Year
Emmanuelle Riva as Anne Laurent in Amour
I don't mind getting personal here and admitting that this film, and particularly Riva's performance, broke me. I rarely tear up at films, but Anne's suffering, and those eyes burning with tortured rage at her own body's failing, forced me to cry 7 times through the course of the film. Her performance is more powerful than almost any given in her career, and deserves any and all awards it receives.
Runner-Up: Jennifer Lawrence for Tiffany Maxwell in Silver Linings Playbook
Best Supporting Actor of the Year
Leonardo DiCaprio for Calvin Candy in Django Unchained
Calvin Candy is not on the most despicable villain of the year, but of Tarantino's filmography. As the vicious slavedriver who lords of Candyland, Leonardo DiCaprio finally breaks free of his "angsty leading man" attitude to just have fun with a role, putting everything he has into the manic mad man with terrifying effect.
Runner-Up: Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens in Lincoln
Best Supporting Actress of the Year
Anne Hathaway as Fantine in Les Miserables
Heartbreaking is the only way to describe Hathaway's career-defining performance as Fantine, an abandoned mother forced onto the streets and into prostitution who only wants to care for her supposedly ailing daughter. Some have suggested Hathaway is receiving awards for just singing a good song, but its more than that. Her screen time may be as brief as Hopkins' Dr. Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, but both give powerful performances, and both are needed in their brevity and emotional impact to motivate the protagonist to take the actions they'll take through the course of the film. Hathaway does burn with an exquisite suffering as she howls out "I Dreamed A Dream", but its the role of Fantine (an almost forgettable one within the original novel, and a brief one even in this newest incarnation) and make it the most memorable in the film.
Runner-Up: Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle in The Dark Knight Rises
Best Ensemble Cast
Les Miserables
As my previously posted review will indicate, I was not the biggest fan of Tom Hooper's cinematic adaptation of the classic musical. Yet the cast was practically flawless. Of course, Hugh Jackman and Anne Hathaway steal the show, but even the minor roles like the Thenardiers are perfectly cast. The flaws of Les Miserables are in the directing, but the brilliance is in the cast.
Runner-Up: Django Unchained
Breakout Performance of the Year
Kara Hayward as Susie Bishop in Moonrise Kingdom
As we've learned from films like The Life Aquatic With Steve Zisou, even some adults can't even grasp the subtle line between funny and dull within Wes Anderson's dialogue, so its all the more impressive that Kara Hayward comes along at 12 and give the best non-Bill Murray Wes Anderson performance since Gwyneth Paltrow. She brings Susie to live with such bleak passion, if there is such a thing, that it carries the rest of the film, and elevates the performance of anyone who shares the screen with her. I hope we see more of her in the future.
Runner-Up: Quvenzhane Wallis for Hushpuppy in Beasts of the Southern Wild
Most Overrated Films of the Year
The Dark Knight Rises & Life of Pi
Both bad movies, but my imagined crossover is genius.
I'm ready for the hate-mail. Look, in regards to TDKR, critics and fanboys had their praising pens ready before they even started shooting the last part of Nolan's grumbly Batman trilogy. I had my trepidations, but even I was expecting something that was going to sweep the Oscars like a caped Return of the King. Instead, we got a clunker of a disorganized, pointless film. It lacked the comic book style of Batman Begins, and the philosophical core of The Dark Knight. Whereas a fair amount of discussion could be had as to the meaning and message of TDK, the third entry left anybody who wasn't swept up in explosions and unintelligible dialogue scratching their heads, reconciling plot holes and attempting to decipher meaning from a typically smart director who almost felt like he just wanted to be done with the Bat-beast he created. Of course, the film has its fans declaring it the "best of the year", but those are people who needed it to be, the same way people take simple moments of weather as acts of god, or see patterns where there are none. If someone went to TDKR wanting it to be amazing, they were sorely disappointed. If they went there needing it to be a masterpiece, it was one for them, because if the third film had been Batman & Robin, they would have praised Nolan's genius. Everybody was so set to praise the film that when it came out only decent, it didn't matter. The reviews were already written in their heads (which is common now due to the fanboy culture we live in) and actually seeing the film was just a formality. The Man of Steel trailer gives me pause but looks promising, which means critics and the internet are already getting ready to put it on their "Best of the Year" list of 2013, since St. Nolan is involved. As for Life of Pi, how this film came to be nominated for any Oscars besides visual ones is beyond me. The intriguing story of the book becomes convoluted when Ang Lee starts making decisions for the audience about what is real and what isn't, and removes the imagination aspect that made the original novel such a joy to read. Never boring but never interesting, the film just sort of exists. They used to say Life of Pi was unfilmable. Ang Lee proved that.
Most Underrated Films of the Year
The Oogieloves in the Big Balloon Adventure & Kill List
Since I already talked about Kill List, let's move on to the other one. Alright, I'll be the first to admit it. There is nothing more fun than writing a bad review. To just sink your teeth into something and tear it apart. But critics won't just do that to any movie. We're typically a cowardly breed (and after some critics received death threats for not giving 100% positive review to the newest Batman, I can't imagine why), yet once a movie has been kicked down by somebody, or it has a low box office draw, we can dive at it like hungry vultures. Such is the case with The Oogieloves in The Big Balloon Adventure, a film which, lets bear in mind, is aimed at 3 year olds. Its meant to be a film 3-6 year olds can comprehend, and endeavored to do something sort of new: A kids film with no violence, no bad guys, just friendly people who help each other. A sweet sentiment that these days can only be found on Sesame Street. Hell, even the Barney and Care Bears movies had antagonists. Is Oogieloves a great film? Oh, no. But it's got a good heart. And I'm sure its target audience would enjoy it greatly. But for grown men and women to declare a film "one of the worst films ever" because it's not aimed at them or made for their entertainment is absurd. Amorres Perros is in Spanish, and it deals with Spanish culture, neither of which I understand. And since I can't relate to it, I'm allowed to declare it terrible. That's what criticism has come to these days. Fanboys control critics, and anything we can't relate to personally is garbage. What a wonderful world.
15 Best Film Moments of the Year (regardless of the film's quality as a whole):
There are a fair deal of spoilers below. Fair warning.
15) American Reunion: Finch's Mom
American Reunion brought to a close (we assume) the finest teen-sex-romp series in cinema history. Ok, that's not saying much, but the fact is the American Pie series (not including its spin-offs) have matured along with their casts and audience, acting as either a reflection for those who came of age with the films, or for those of my generation, a look into the future, assuring us everything was going to be alright in the next stage of our lives. Reunion continued that tradition, but capped it off with a nice (if unrealistic) victory for first movie villain turned final movie protagonist Stiffler. As any child or teen of the 90's can tell you, Finch banged Stiffler's mom. Finally, Stiffler took a vengeance sweeter than any Django received.
14) Wreck-It Ralph: Bad-Anon
As stated above, Wreck-It Ralph functions as a Who Framed Roger Rabbit? for gamers, and nothing better exmplifies that than the hilarious "Bad-Anon" meeting, a support group for video game bad guys in existential crisis. Cameos include M. Bison and Zangief from Street Fighter, Kano and Smoke from Mortal Kombat, Clyde the Ghost from Pac-Man, Dr. Robotnik from Sonic, and of course Bowser from Mario.
13) The Avengers: Loki talks to Black Widow
In a movie full of intense, high-octane action, it's amazing that the most powerful scene involves nary a punch thrown. Whedon has always known how to write for women, and turned the previously one-dimensional Natasha Romanov into a vulnerable yet defiant warrior. In a scene that owes more than a little debt to The Silence of the Lambs, Loki dissects and destroys Black Widow, but in doing so plays right into her hand.
What I said before, about the film representing masculinity that's also intellectual? Never is it better exemplified than when Liam Neeson tells the other men of a poem his father wrote. The words serve as a summary of the film, and the actions of the men within it. "Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I'll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day."
11) Silver Linings Playbook: The Dance
The whole film has been building up to this moment, the big dance competition. Will they win or will they blow it? With the way the film has been going, you genuinely don't know, but much like the film's characters, once the music starts you don't care. You see how much fun not just the characters but the actors are having, and the scene is an utter delight in an otherwise emotionally rocky movie.
10) Skyfall: The DB5 Returns
The biggest thrill for old school Bond fans like myself had to be seeing Sam Mendes pay tribute to the Bond of yesteryear with the greatest Bond car of all time, Goldfinger's Aston Martin DB5, complete with ejector seat and machine gun headlights. Proof that the Bond we knew and loved was back for good.
9) The Dark Knight Rises: Selina Kyle Barroom Brawl
Now, it may seem obvious I didn't love the final Batman installment. To take it apart would take too long, and Ralph Garman already did that for me. Though if there was one good thing in the movie, it was Anne Hathaway's inspired turn as Selina Kyle, the only character whose personality even remotely resembled her comic book namesake by the end of the film. And the one smart scene, in a film from a director who is praised for his "intelligent" filmmaking, was watching Selina's cunning in a bar fight. She takes out as many as she can before the cops arrive, but when they do falls right into the role of the helpless woman in order to evade them. If the whole movie had had this level of brilliance instead of pretension and plot holes, perhaps it would be a different year awards-wise.
8) Holy Motors: The Entr'Acte
Being a bizarre series of vignettes, it only makes sense that the film would have an intermission/entr'acte. And of course, since Mr. Oscar has been the focal point of every other scene, it makes sense he would lead the band in a rousing rendition of "Let My Baby Ride". This sequence encapsulates the madcap spirit that pervades the rest of Holy Motors, and is one of the most rewatchable film moments of the year.
7) Zero Dark Thirty: The Raid on Bin Laden's Compound
Expertly shot and executed, Kathryn Bigelow brought to life the finale of the real life drama that played out over the last 12 years. Let's face facts, this is what most people paid to see, and even if the rest of the film bored the viewer, this scene alone proves why Bigelow is one of the top action directors in the country.
No clip available
6) Ted: Flash Gordon
And cameo of the year goes to...The by now completely forgotten Sam Jones, once of Flash Gordon fame, makes an appearance in Ted that proves just how far Seth McFarlane will go for a joke. Sure, it's essentially the Neil Patrick Harris cameo in Harold & Kumar regurgitated with a new 80's star, but there are moments of brilliance, most particularly the typically stoic Mark Wahlberg's childlike glee riding on Flash Gordon's speeder in a fantasy sequence.
5) Shut Up And Play The Hits: "New York I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down"
LCD Soundsystem will go down as one of the most important acts to come out of New York in the 2000's, if not the most important. James Murphy crafted a string of dance classics for the hipster set, and Shut Up And Play The Hits captured LCD Soundsystem's final show at MSG, proving the power "indie" music had over the industry. Murphy capped off the show, not with one of the energetic hits like "All My Friends" or "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House", but closes out the show on one of the greatest anthems ever written about New York, a eulogy to the old way of the city in the post-Giuliani Disney haze, made all the more poignant by the finality in Murphy's voice. The Last Waltz had "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down", and our generation has this to stand as its finale of the "golden age of indie". Let's be ready for the new subculture, and pray they be less pretentious, because for the hipsters it's all over now, baby blue.
4) Django Unchained: "The Payback" Shootout
After Django is thrust into an all out war in the middle of Candyland thanks to King Schultz's righteous indignation, he's force to try and shoot his way out. What we get is Tarantino's most inspired musical fight since Beatrix took on the Crazy 88's. Can't beat James Brown & Tupac.
3) Amour: Anne's Body
I've expounded already on the boldness of Haneke's choice to confront the viewer with Ms. Laurent's corpse from the start. He created a movie most described as about "death" wherein the death is irrelevant. It's a throw away, put in the film at all to ease the minds of those who would wonder whether she lives or dies, and placed at the beginning so as to ensure the viewer won't be distracted for the rest of the film with any hope that she might survive. Its a film where only the dying matters, not the death.
2) Skyfall: The Opening Credits Sequence
Admittedly, I love a good title sequence. A Saul Bass highlight reel for me is better than any drug in the world. Skyfall had one of the best since The Spy Who Loved Me, possibly even the best of any Bond film. Between the gorgeous visuals which provide an overture for the entire film (not that I don't love nude women silhouettes like in almost every other Bond film), and the song is phenomenal. Together, they tell the audience early on that they're in for a hell of a ride.
1) Les Miserables: "I Dreamed A Dream"
It's like seeing Anthony Hopkins do his Fava Beans speech, or Brando screaming "Stella!". Its a moment you look at and know that no matter what else happens, this scene here will define Anne Hathaway's career. When she one day leaves this mortal coil, that will be the clip they use in the In Memoriam reel. This is her Holly Golightly. Her Annie Hall. Her Amelie. Her performance is so powerful, so emotional that even I, who spent the rest of the film before and after deriding it for ever changed lyric and flat note, had to take pause and just let it happen. Visually, it's just a singular take (it's "Nothing Compares 2 U" by Sinead O'Connor, honestly), but Hathaway tears up the screen with a passionate cry, blowing away everything except her and the viewer, speaking directly to them, and entrancing them with sorrow. Utterly brilliant.
.jpg)
