So, remember that whole year-end write-up I did? How a few folks I knew wrote up their lists as well? How about that "Movie Badasses" list we did a two-person perspective on? Well, judging from my page views, y'all seem to like that. So Josh, Tom and I decided to weigh in on a new Top Ten. This time around? Animation. (Sorry for the brief intro, folks. 4 am shifts at work sorta fry the brain). So, without further ado, you can read Josh's picks here, Tom's here, and mine below. Leave a comment with your thoughts.
10) Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Well, what better way to start off a list like this than at the very start of the genre. Decades before Belle danced in the ballroom, only two score years shy of a century before Buzz and Woody took flight, and only 5 years before Warner Brothers would offer their own regrettable, and almost impossible to find (for good reason), take on the classic tale; Walt Disney had a dream. Having several hit cartoon shorts under his belt, and introduced the world to the most iconic mouse of all time with the classic Steamboat Willie, Walt decided to create the first ever feature-length cell-animated film. His wife and family tried to dissuade him, the papers all predicted a flop, decrying it's exorbitant $250,000 budget (remember, this is the Depression, folks). Well, two things happened: One: Through Disney mortgaging his home, and kicking off a rich Disney legacy of insanely ballooning budgets, Snow White's costs shot up to around $1,488,422.74; Two: None of that mattered, because the film became one of the biggest successes in history, quintupling its budget in its initial run (holding the record for highest grossing sound film of all time until a little Civil War epic came along), it made Disney an absolute household name, laid the foundation for the most innovative and beloved motion picture company in history, and broke the mold of motion pictures forever. And speaking of molds, this is also the origin of the "Disney Princess movie". The seminal public domain tale, pumped full of color and song, brought to life in a style many have imitated but none have matched. How does the film stack up against the Little Mermaids and Tangleds of the later years? Honestly, it's a lot like watching the first outing of the now definitive secret agent, 1962's Dr. No. The sound quality leaves a lot to be desired, and certain moments feel very dated, even slow at times. Techniques that appear fairly rough here have been polished and perfected over time, and a few of the iconic traits of the franchise haven't come to be yet; but the most surprising thing is how much stays the same. The film strikes gold in discovering a perfect formula Disney has rarely successfully wavered from, and the blueprints mined from this classic have yielded a pantheon of classic cartoons. Though, to her credit, the old girl holds up brilliantly on her own, and for 76 years old, the girl still looks damn good.
Best moment:
The introduction of the dwarfs, by far. Until this point, the film is gorgeous, its flawless, but for the kids? Honestly, it ranges from spooky to boring. That is, until Olaf, Timon & Pumba et al.'s seven grandaddies show up with a ditty and some sight gags to prove that there are certain things only cartoons can do. This is the scene that shows what Disney was, could be, and should be.
9) Fritz The Cat (1972)
Alright, folks. Put the kids to bed. We had a nice moment with Snow White singing to the birds, but things are about to get weird. Though the character of Fritz The Cat had existed for several years prior in the underground comix world, created by icon R. Crumb, Bakshi brought him to the big screen, and for many, to the forefront of the conversation about what film could do. The 70's were a time to experiment, and for new voices to be heard. Black cinema, pornographic cinema, independent cinema, all took off in this decade, and Fritz combined all three, while daring to be something else: social commentary. Using Crumb's character to express his own loathing for the times (much to Crumb's distaste), Bakshi broke down every boundary Disney hadn't, and changed the conversation about animation, and proving it didn't have to be for kids. Fritz remains one of the most successful independent films of all time (and by far the most successful animated film). It failed to top the box-office due to a little flick called The Godfather, but it didn't do too bad for an X-Rated cartoon turned down by every studio and distributor short of the guy that put out The Black Godfather. Most "scandalous" films of the 70's look astoundingly tame now (I'm looking at you, Midnight Cowboy. X-Rated on release, and would now probably be a PG-13 at best). Fritz is not one of those films. It's still as raucous, vulgar, pornographic and utterly scathing as it was in its day. Without it, we'd have no Heavy Metal, no Simpsons or South Park. Disney would be the only folks producing cartoons, and the underdog would have one less way of thumbing its nose at the world. Does the film hold up? Well, if you're into that sort of thing. And certainly, rock music-set sequences of triply animation work better if viewed under, well, similar circumstances to those who shuffled out to the grind house theaters back in the day. If you're the type who thinks Frozen is scandalous for its "lesbian themes" (because if a woman would rather be an individual than be with a man, she's a gay, apparently), than put down the DVD, or Fritz the Cat is gonna put you in the ground. On second thought, that might not be so bad.
Best moment:
It's hard to decide on one. The film is such a scatter-shot of sensations and stimulations, it all comes down to a matter of personal preference. And while the first utterance of the word "nigger" in a post-Song of the South flick might be the first hint this ain't a trip to a fairytale kingdom, and the bathtub orgy minutes later confirms it, my pick (the motorcycle ride of Blue, the biker junkie bunny) pretty much sets the tone of the film for any Bakshi virgins, and crams about as much rebellion and angst into one animation cell as humanly possible.
8) Up (2009)
What can be said about the second-ever Best Picture nominated cartoon that hasn't already been said? Lovingly crafted? One of Pixar's finest? Thrilling? Hilarious? Fun for the whole family? Vibrantly colorful? Visually stunning? Yeah, critics have covered all of these things a thousand times. Though those terms have been applied to countless films in the past as well. What praises have set Up apart from the pack enough to earn it a place on the list? Emotional. Honest. Raw. Human. Brutal. In trying to evoke emotion in their audiences in the past, Pixar (and admittedly, every other family film), played with kids stuff. The nostalgic, "growing up" moments in the Toy Story trilogy (ranging from the heart wrenching "When She Loved Me" in the second film to the blatant, joy-less "Fuck you, millennials, cry!" dreck of the third), the powerful but childishly simplistic environmental message of Wall-E, and the "family forever" tones on The Incredibles and Finding Nemo. Here, they changed it up. They made it real. This wasn't a film about talking cars, or cooking rats. And though they flew around in a house on balloons, there would be no doubt in anyone's minds that the characters in this film were humans. The first ten minutes of the film introduce us to a young boy named Carl, and an adventurous neighbor girl named Ellie. From a sweet scene of them becoming fast friends and discussing plans to see the world, we see them grow up, get married, and plan to start a family, and are then made to watch, helpless, as Ellie is cruelly (and slowly) ripped away from Carl by time, God or what have you, in a montage even more heartbreaking than the Kleenex-box-depleting Six Feet Under finale; all of this to say nothing of the boldness of briefly but powerfully addressing the pain of being unable to have children. And where most films might try and "recover" from that by having Carl take a magical journey that might restore life to his lost love, or even have him "meet someone new" (as though that heals everything), Up keeps things surprisingly grounded. No "ghost of Ellie" shows up to tell Carl to move on. Instead, it all comes back full circle in an unexpected way towards the end of the film, and the gut-punch it delivers is both infinitely sad and astoundingly life affirming. So what can be said about the second-ever Best Picture nominated cartoon that hasn't already been said? It should have won.
Best moment:
SPOILERS
Technically two moments, which some Youtube user kindly cut together, the most memorable and powerful moments of Up have not a frame of the kid or the talking dog. Rather, its the aforementioned opening montage (a masterclass in animated storytelling in itself) and its "follow-up", where a weary Carl sits defeated, gazing at Ellie's scrapbook, crushed when he sees the section for "Stuff I'm Going To Do", and realizing she never would, before turning the page and showing us what the whole film was really all about. I don't like to give ultimatums, but if you don't cry at the thought of the words "Thanks for the adventures. Now go have a new one.", you know nothing of love and loss.
Probably the most notable non-Miyazaki film to come out of Studio Ghibli (Japan's answer to Disney, who actually distributes the Ghibli films here in the US), Grave of the Fireflies originally shared a bill with My Neighbor Totoro when it was first released, and that might be why it took a while for most folks to warm up to it. You see, while the iconic Totoro (you've seen him. Even if you're cinematic tastes don't branch beyond the American, he showed up in Toy Story 3) is a large, fluffy, magical forrest creature in a delight children's film, Seita and Setsuko, the brother and sister at the heart of Grave of the Fireflies, are two real kids, forced to try and survive in a post-Hiroshima Japan. Harrowing and heartbreaking, the story lilts in the air, never really going for the gut, which makes the inevitable end all the more powerful. Grave of the Fireflies is not an easy watch, for sure, and most would prefer the comfort of "safe sadness" provided by less grounded flicks (I promise to leave Toy Story 3 alone soon), it's an undeniably brilliant film, and the best incite we can get into the post-World War II world from the perspective of some of those most affected by it.
Best moment:
SPOILERS
Not "best" as though any joy could be taken from it, but the sad, slow passing of Setsuko, marked not with outcries or overbearing score, but rather with somber acceptance of something a long time coming, sets a high watermark for humanity in anime not met until Miyazaki's swan song The Wind Rises.
6) The Lion King (1994)
In the middle of the "Disney Rennaissance", generally agreed to have begun with 1989's The Little Mermaid, Disney broke away from the format of "fairy tale with a pretty princess who is spunky enough to appeal to post-modern feminists, with a cool guy for boys to like too" to take on a less family-friendly piece of public domain literature. Yes, Disney was finally going to take on The Bard. In something that would sound familiar to those who read above about Snow White, detractors were instantly pessimistic about a film that might break the streak of quality Disney was having. A movie about lions, that's basically Hamlet, and *gasp* no Alan Menken music? Heresy. What came about is considered by some to be the greatest film Disney ever made. Elton John's music is some of the best and most unique in the Disney canon, the death of Mufasa might be the most powerful and explicit death in Disney since Bambi, and the visuals (sweeping, hand-drawn shots of the African landscape) amazed, to say nothing of Disney finally acknowledging black actors without having them sing "Zipidee-Doo-Da" (even though we didn't get black people until 2009, in Disney's last-hand-drawn-film-to-date The Princess and the Frog). The film remains a spectacle; its been spun into sequels, TV shows and even a Broadway musical, all of which retain and thrive off of the vibrancy of the original. The Lion King was and remains not only one of the greatest animated films of all time, but one of the greatest films period. Plus, the film gets bonus points for reuniting the parents from Coming to America. And now that's all you'll be able to think about the next time you watch it.
Best moment:
Picking just one was literally impossible, (edit: And considering some of my friends have already bent the rules, Mr.direct-to-DVD-Flashpoint) I've allowed myself to tweak things a little and include three. There's the visual brilliance of the opening scene, kicking off with that jolting vocal wail as the sun rises and beings the classic "Circle of Life"; the childhood-scarring death of Mufasa; and of course, the infectious joy of "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" (this writer's personal favorite number from the film, though as a child it was "Be Prepared", which worries me some). These three clix show the three radically different tones that beautifully blended together to make this modern classic.
5) Akira (1988)
I first saw Akira at a midnight screening at a (sort of) local theatre, and that's truly the way it was meant to be scene. During the scene wherein the character of Tetsuo has a hallucinatory nightmare, a man a few seats down from my loudly exclaimed "Yo, this shit is crazy". Now, this is a man living now, in an age where anime is widely known and distributed, and the internet exists to expose even the most mildly curious to the most extreme examples of Japanimation that could make Liquid Television look like Arthur. Imagine those lucky and unsuspecting Americans who plunked down way less than we pay now for movies, whose only experience with Japanese cartoons before had been Astroboy, Kimba and maybe Gigantor, none of which come close to the mind-bending darkness and intense action of Katsuhiro Atomo's stellar manga adaptation (adapted from his own manga, of course). Set in Neo-Tokyo in 2019, the city is in turmoil leading up to the 2020 Olympics that will be held there (which, if it's predictions of the city's conditions are as accurate as its predictions of it being the host city in 2020, or its prediction of the internet, then Sochi's gonna look like paradise in hindsight), and biker gangs roam the streets. It's part cyber-punk, part sci-fi, part action film and part triply hallucination. In short, its everything we now expect anime to be, but this (at least for Americans) did it first, and it's still the best.
Best moment:
You know what"shit" is even crazier than Tetsuo's nightmare? A certain character's climactic transformation. I'd post an all-caps "Spoilers" above, but I'm gonna just be vague here, though I warn you, the below clip is the film's ending, so do try and avoid watching it unless you've already seen the full film.
4) Toy Story (1995)
At the peak of the Disney Renaissance, you could already see the torch being passed to the folks who would take it to new heights while their parent company put out Home on the Range. Much like how Walt's mad ambition pid off with the first feature length cell-animated film, the first feature length computer-animated film blew the doors off of cinemas everywhere with a combination of wit, whimsy and weepy-eyed sentimentality that had Disney in its veins but had a voice of its own. Pixar may have existed as a company before this film, but it was here that the brand known as Pixar was born. Students of film and animation were blown away with what could be done so stunningly (and efficiently) by a computer, and filmgoers were impressed to find a film that played to kids while still having a great deal of entertainment value for their baby-boomer parents (though the later films would target the kids who grew up toy owner Andy, the shift in interest between a cowboy and a spaceman seems very much directed at the now adult toy owners who made the same shift in their mid-60's childhoods). Countless lists of the "Greatest Animated Films" list this as number one, and its easy to see why. It has a very broad appeal that's smart without being challenging, sentimental without being sappy, and the film holds up brilliantly, remaining a damn good time that one can't help but leave on whenever you pass it by on one of the 30 Disney channels there seem to be these days. Really, who doesn't love the Randy Newman classic "You Got A Friend In Me"?
Best moment:
From the claw-worshiping aliens in Pizza Planet's vending machine to the horrifying Freaks-esque toy torture chamber that is neighbor Sid's room, this is the point where Toy Story set itself apart from the pack, being unafraid to push the boundaries that had been put in place once the original animator who pushed them had passed on. From here on out, it was Pixar's world, and everybody else was just animating in it.
3) Spirited Away (2001)
For any Japanese director to make a film so good it challenges the works of Kurosawa and Ozu in polls asking which was the greatest Japaenese film ver made is impressive. For an animator to do it is unheard of. Then again, Studio Ghibli founder Hiyao Miyazaki didn't get dubbed the "Walt Disney of the East" for nothing. Films like Kiki's Delivery Service and Princess Mononoke made a name for Miyazaki as a daring, unique and masterful animator, but it all built up to his masterwork, Spirited Away. The first and only anime to win the Best Animated Feature Oscar (and thus far the first and only hand-drawn film as well. Daring, bold and fanciful at a time when American animation was getting more than a little predictable and formulaic, the story of Chihiro Ogino stumbling into a magical world and having to work for the witch Yubaba at a bath house for spirits was both totally accessible and radically new. Parents not fatigued by years of seizure inducing, wallet draining Japanese imports like Dragon Ball Z and Pokemon took their kids to the theatre for this, and got to marvel at a world rich in color and texture, a cartoon that was truly a work of art. Spirited Away is a thing of pure wonder, and arguably the greatest fantasy film of my lifetime.
Best moment:
The Susuwatari Arrive: Yes, there are more visually stunning moments, but the Susuwatari are the most famous Miyazaki creation after the Great Grey Fuzzy One.
2) Beauty and the Beast
A tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly. The summary of nearly half the stories ever told, it seems, and the opening line of the title song to one of Disney's crowning achievements. The first animated film ever nominated for Best Picture, and some argued in a close race with a different story of a man and a woman "barely even friends" who connected: The Silence of the Lambs, Disney's take on the Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont borrows a lot of its style from the classic 1946 La Belle et La Bete (an adaptation so good it's rumored to have put Walt Disney off from his intentions of adapting the story back in the 40's), and adds the kind of visual beauty Cocteau was technologically incapable of in his time. To argue which is the superior version is a matter of opinion, but to argue that Beauty and the Beast, with its innovative animation, gorgeous music (Angela Lansbury famously had reservations about recording the Oscar-Winning title song because she felt it was "too beautiful" for her, and that she would ruin it. Needless to say, she didn't), and relatable characters, the film is a stone's throw away from being the greatest film of the 1990's (were two pop-culture fluent hit men and a cannibalistic doctor not in the way), and remains a beloved classic to this day.
Best moment:
"Beauty and the Beast"; for the historical (Disney's successful use of the innovative CAPS system for the dolly shot in the ballroom convinced them of the viability of computer animation. Without this, there would be no Pixar, no Frozen, and computer animation would mostly be a throwaway fad without the Mouse's money backing it up), for the cinematic (the scene has been parodied countless times, ranging from The Animaniacs to Family Guy and the cult classic The Critic), and for the personal (the spiral dolly shot is the first shot I remember from any film). It's sincere, sweeping and beautiful, and proves that, like it or not, Disney is the master of their craft.
1) Fantasia (1940)
If people thought Snow White was ambitious, just imagine how they felt when Walt announced that he was truly going to explore the "art of animation", and was going to create an entire film bereft of dialogue, that would feature classical music, with animated segments to accompany it. And no Merry Melodies gang to fool around. Donald, Goofy, Pluto, they'd all be staying home for this. Only the mischievous Mouse that made Walt's name would show up, once to talk in silhouette with Walt at the start of the film, and again in what would wind up being one of his most beloved outfits, in the segment "The Sorcerer's Apprentice". Viewers probably expected a visual delight, as the films leading up to it had been, but they could not have expected a film that did for animation what 2001 did for sci-fi. Fantasia redefined what a cartoon could be, brought the artistry of animation to the forefront, and brought the classical songs to life the way only animation fueled by unbridled imagination could. Colorful, magical and wonderful, Fantasia is still the high watermark for animated art towards which many have scrapped, perhaps a few might have even risen to, but none have surpassed. The Beatles get credited for the "first music video" with 1964's A Hard Day's Night, but here, Disney did it 24 years sooner, and with more than a little more style. And if you can "out-style" the Beatles, well, you my friend have just won.
Best moment:
"Night on Bald Mountain" might be the ballsiest moment of the film. Until this point, while it was a cerebral film, the kids could still enjoy the bright colors and happy images. Then this. The predecessor to the demons of Heavy Metal. The darkness and despair of this giant demon rising has been the cause of more than a few nightmares, and likely inspired more than a few 80's hair metal album covers.
Honorable Mentions:
Slimming it down to 10 was a challenge, and has made the list extremely Amerocentric, so I just wanted to throw out a few more it pains me to ignore below. I implore anyone to check out these in some cases more obscure films, and have hyperlinked the trailers to wet your appetites.
Once again, it's time for another Year End Wrap Up. Since this blog averages 100 views a day (shit you not. No idea where that's coming from), I've spiced things up a bit. Added a video montage I threw together to get things started, and I'm expanding my "Most over- and Underrated films" section into its own article to be posted later on. Added some new categories as well, like Best Animated Feature, Best Live Action Short, etc. Also put down some of the flicks I'm excited for in 2014, as well as linked to some year end posts from some friends of mine, in case you wanted some (very) different takes on the year in film. Now, you don't need me to tell you what a good year this was for film (and also, as I type, because Alan Partridge is staring at me in the still for the video below, I hear his voice reading the words I type, and I need to make that stop) so without further ado, here's the list:
The Top Twenty Films of 2012
20) Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa
Yes, Steve Coogan is in that other film this year (the DiCaprio-dubbed "Philomania"), but his best work has to be in reprising his career-making role of Alan Partridge, the English radio/TV "personality" who never really had all that much of a career. When Radio Norwich is taken hostage by Alan's former co-host Pat (whose firing Alan was instrumental in), Coogan's self-important Partridge is recruited to save the day. It's all the best parts of the forgotten comedies Airheads and Hamlet 2 (which also starred Coogan), and references countless moments of Alan Partridge history while still being fresh and funny for those completely unfamiliar with the character. Having seen the apocalypse battled on both sides of the pond this year, and grandpas being bad and legends of anchormen continued, it's little Radio Norwich which tops the comedies this year. (US availability unknown)
19) Inside Llewyn Davis
One could describe almost any film by the Coen Brothers as a "comedy of errors". Bumbling buffoons and bumpkins colliding against one another, again and again, never changing course but from the bounces, like atoms in an accelerator. Yet, those more critical of the characters the duo craft might reject that term in favor of calling them "comedies of ineptitude". Indeed, be it the criminals in Fargo, the gym rats of Burn After Reading, or the dynamic duo on the hunt for Bunny Lebowski, its in fact their own shortcomings that cause their misfortune. Which is it? With the Coens, its two sides of the same coin, and no more prominently is this on display than in their finest (and most divisive) film in years, Inside Llewyn Davis. Almost every "uplifting" movie you see, it functions on chance, on a character making the proper choices and having the right amount of luck. They pick just the right roadside restaurant to stumble upon their idol, take the right fork in the road and bump into their soulmate, play the right song at the right gig and their career takes off. The titular Davis, with the ego of Barton Fink and the Jewish misery of Larry Gopnik, is the character who does the opposite. Its a film about the person who makes all the wrong choices. Who goes left instead of right, and winds up in a dive restaurant with a junkie. Who misses every opportunity in search of a different one. Its a road movie that leads nowhere, a musical without sincerity, a biopic that circles back around on itself to tell no story at all. Llewyn is undeniably an asshole, yes, but assholes succeed in music all the time. So why not him? Is he truly inept? Or just unlucky? So many have made films about success, but the Coens have made the first loving film about failure. (In theatres. Available on DVD March 11th)
18) Upstream Color
In two films, Shane Carruth has established himself as the outsider-auteur-extraordinaire, and while Upstream Color lacks the tightness and simplicity that made his debut Primer such an instant classic, its scope and ambition bursts onto the screen, proving a "sophomore slump" isn't inevitable in every case. Taking on identity as Primer took on time, the film is contemplative, fluid, and replaces the rapid fire, His Girl Friday meets college physics dialogue with meditative montage, telling most of the story in cryptic imagery, and letting the budding romance and dissolution of Kris and Jeff play out with as much attention given it as is given to the pigs, harvested for the insects inside. As for the pigs? Why bother to explain? Carruth's films aren't made to be explained on some timeline. They're Pollock paintings, ideas scattered across a celluloid canvas, letting the viewer take from this play of interconnecting minds and memories what they will, leaving it to them to decide if the film is, at its core, a love story or a ghost story. Or some might suggest its both. (Available on DVD and Netflix Instant)
17) Escape From Tomorrow
The daring. The innovation. The utter balls on the man behind the consumer grade camcorder. It was all anyone could talk about coming out of Sundance in 2013. Critics swore they had just seen a once in a lifetime film, the likes of which might never again see the light of day. Filmmaker Randy Moore could have made a film about a father losing his job in the middle of a family trip to an amusement park as a straightforward drama, and it would have been a glazed over piece of typical festival fare. The fact that he, instead, has the father descend into a Lynchian nightmare, complete with demonic rides and streetwalker mascots raised some eyebrows. The fact that he shot the entire thing, without permits or permission, in the happiest (and most copyright protected) place on earth, Walt Disney World, blew some minds. After the dust had settled, and iFC mounted an official release for the film, the reception was lukewarm at best, but likely because critics were hoping for an indictment of Disney, and instead found a bold, clever film about the doldrums of suburban life, and the importance of dreams. Wild and racy, sure, and certainly not something Disney would have endorsed, but in the end, it expresses the importance of places like Disney, the importance of dreaming, and of wanting more. Flooded with Cronenberg-esque creeps, Nabokovian nubiles, and dozens of scenes where you'll audibly mutter "How'd they pull it off?", Escape From Tomorrow may not be what you expect, but it's like nothing you've ever seen. (Available on iTunes)
16) Nebraska
In Alexander Payne's latest film, his fourth set in his home state, he's finally captured the Midwest front and center in a way that had always been peripheral before. He's also given Bruce Dern a role worth of his immense talent. A film that burns with all the raw, undiluted humanity independent cinema affords, without once dipping into the trappings of the "indie film". Its humor is skewering but loving, and its characters flawed but (mostly) sincere, and most importantly, painfully real. In a year littered with black and white films, Phedon Papamichael's gorgeous cinematography stands out leagues beyond the others. The film makes no apologies for its characters faults, and indeed, nobody really changes. Woody Grant begins and ends the film bitter, drunk and delusional. His wife, played by the stellar June Squibb, tolerates him just the same before the lottery letter as after. And though the film sets itself up for a "life lessons learned" kind of revelation from Will Forte's devoted son, showing his life in tatters at the beginning, with the typical "girlfriend leaves him because he's going nowhere", in the end...nothing happens. It's never even mentioned again. Life just sort of happens in Nebraska. And that, more than "Honor thy mother and father" or "Dreams are worth chasing" or whatever pseudo-intellectuals try to extrapolate from the film, is the real message. In Nebraska, people just...exist. (In theaters)
15) Spring Breakers
Harmony Korine, an underground staple with films like Kids and Gummo, burst into the public consciousness with this "scandalous" streak of neon nudity and thumping bass. Crafted with the distorted worldview typical to Korine's work, but swapping somber realism for frenetic editing and a Skrillex score, the film would have likely remained a limited release were it not for the casting of two former Disney actresses (Vanessa Hudgens and Selina Gomez) and James Franco, as gun-toting guru Alien. Franco's character plays like a Lebowski for the modern age, trading weed and a mellow vibe for coke, ecstasy, megalomania and a few too many viewings of Scarface. And while the other three girls (Hudgens, Ashley Benson and Korine's wife Rachel) function as little more than technicolor eye-candy most of the time, Gomez truly impresses as Faith, a girl who finds herself in too deep. While there is a narrative to Spring Breakers, the film repeats images, jumps back and forth in time, and draws out moments that at first seems bizarre (a Britney Spears sing along). While other films would show some typical "spring break parties" to introduce the setting, Korine relishes in them, changing speeds with dub step score, intercut with color and light, like Stan Brakhage filming Girls Gone Wild. At its core, Spring Breakers isn't a "crime film", it isn't "sexploitation". It's repeating images, its flashing lights and sexual images, they all function like parts of a song. Spring Breakers is a tone poem on screen, and chooses gangsta rap and sexualized-bubblegum pop lyrics to illustrate. It digs within them, more than the average person ever does, and blasts it unrepentantly onto the screen. Is it reality? No. It's the current that runs beneath it. (Available on DVD)
14) Frozen
Those of a certain age (mine or older, basically) remember the late 80's/early 90's Disney renaissance with an unparalleled fondness. But sadly, classics like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast gave way to forgettable schlock like Treasure Planet and Home on the Range, leaving a whole generation princess-less, and turning to Pixar for masterful animation. For a while, Disney tried to play catch up (Meet the Robinsons, Bolt), but to no avail. Lately, however, it seems the tables have turned. Pixar's been turning out a few underwhelming films as of late (culminating in this year's already forgotten Monsters University. It looks like there was a valid reason Walt Disney always swore "no sequels"), starting with the criminally underseen The Princess and the Frog, Disney has been churning out better and better films, with more modern sensibilities and daring narratives (the teen-girl targeting Tangled, and the 80's-baiting Wreck-It Ralph), leading up to the sleeper hit of this year, Frozen. Much like the short before it, Get A Horse, Frozen proves Disney can move forward while looking back. Animated by computers but paying constant loving homage to the Disney hand-drawn classics (look for a Peter Pan-inspired moment during "Love Is An Open Door"), Frozen works because its cared about, in a way the early 90's films were, and the way Walt cared with every frame of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. And while animation, even more than live action, is a collaborative process, the success of Frozen is indebted mostly to the brilliant Jennifer Lee, who wrote and co-directed the film (after being a driving force behind the more sophisticated parts of Wreck-It Ralph). Originally a Hans Christian Anderson tale, the project was stalled for years at Disney before Lee decided to take the evil ice queen, and pull a Wicked, making her sympathetic, relatable, and really not all that evil. Of course, it doesn't hurt when the Wicked-ized ice queen Elsa is voiced by the flawless Idina Menzel (the original Elphaba in Broadway's Wicked). Menzel's Elsa isn't some force of chaos, but rather a scared little girl, a loving older sister, and a voice of reason to cut through some of the more cliched Disney moments Frozen sets out to both honor and skewer. At one screening I had attended for the film, applause broke out when Elsa told her sister Anna she could marry a man she just met. And Anna is a large part of why the film has resonated so much as well. Voiced by Kristen Bell, Anna isn't refined or poised like her sister. Honestly, she's Veronica Mars in cartoon form, with all the pros and cons that come with it. No longer are the girls in the audience told "Here's the pretty princess. Like her." Thy have options now, and two very strong, developed options. Gone are the days when the females, though given the spotlight, exist more to highlight the male characters in Disney films (even as recent as the swashbuckling Flynn Ryder in Tangled). The males, Kristoff and Hans, are relegated to the peripheral, almost inconsequential to the narrative as a whole. The cast is rounded out by Josh Gad, who'd previously worked with composer Robert Lopez (as well as South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone) on the Tony winning (and riotously obscene) The Book of Mormon, so its quite a shock to see him perfectly nail the kid-friendly comic relief role as Olaf, a jolly enchanted snowman who was even more carefully designed to sell toys than any Ewok ever was. The film is inescapable, especially for Facebook or Tumblr users, and has resonated with audiences of all races, genders and ages more than anybody could have anticipated. Why? Who can really say? It's lightening in a bottle. But if I were to venture a guess, I'd say its because people go to Disney films to feel happy. To get that sense of magic and wonder you felt ever since Walt Disney (or Tom Hanks, if Saving Mr. Banks was your kind of thing) had Tinkerbell fly around him on TV. But in a post-modern era of sarcasm, cynicism and "too cool" personas, that kind of glee got slagged off, and "Disney" became an insult slung at anything sincere and joyful. Now, its once again good to feel good. The cynicism of David Letterman has been replaced by the joy of Jimmy Fallon. Dark and gritty vigilantes are being replaced by saturated superheroes. And singing along to Disney tunes is not only ok, its encouraged (and selling out theaters across the country). Girls (and some guys) who used to be afraid of being judged for liking "that kind of movie" are now heading to the theatre in droves, because for the first time in forever, nothing's in their way. (In theaters. Available on DVD March 18th)
13) Captain Phillips
It's always a mighty undertaking, trying to make a thriller out of historical events. Hostage situations are dicey propositions, since we already know how the end. It's easier to do something like Munich, and show a side of an well-known event nobody ever saw. However, if anyone could take on such a gargantuan task, its director Paul Greengrass, who made the brilliantly moving United 93. Captain Phillips takes the compassion he displayed with that film, and blends it with the shaky cameras and high octane editing that thrilled for three Bourne films, and made an edge-of-your-seat story out of the most well-known act of piracy in recent history. Though as much credit is due Greengrass, even more is due the marvelous cast, lead by Tom Hanks in his best role since Saving Private Ryan. Phillips is fierce, tactical and brave; but Hanks never forgets to embrue him with enough humanity and commonness to always remind the audience that this was a real man. Just one who displayed enough grace under pressure to make Papa Hemingway proud. However, the standout of the film is Barkhad Abdi, who burns up the screen, even stealing scenes from Hanks, as the vicious pirate Abduwali Muse. While the film provides context for Muse's piracy, and attempts to expose the factors behind Somali piracy that aren't often discussed (poverty, weak government, and a corrupt international insurance ring that profits more than the starved "pirates" do), it never attempts to exalt Muse, or even forgive him. A victim of greed and ego as much as circumstance, Muse is a Walter White-esque character. Outwardly sympathetic, and seemingly forced into this life, really he does it because he likes it. Because he thinks he's good at it. He could leave with $30,000, but that's not enough. Nothing will ever be enough for him. Ruthless and desperate is a dangerous combination, and Greengrass makes a star of Abdi, all the while crafting the most thrilling tale of heroism in years. (Available on DVD)
12) Blue Jasmine
Woody Allen will always be regarded as a comedian, and rightly so. From game changers like Annie Hall and Zelig, to more goofy fare like Bananas or Midnight in Paris, he was heir to the comic throne once occupied by Groucho Marx and Charlie Chaplin (and though Wes Anderson is creeping up on it, Woody's not letting that seat go any time soon). However, the downside of such a public perception is that brilliant dramatic pieces like Interiors and this year's Blue Jasmine fall to the wayside in retrospect. Blue Jasmine plays like Streetcar Named Desire in the Bernie Madoff age, with the titular Jasmine, played with dazzling delusion by Oscar-lock Cate Blanchett, forced to move from a penthouse in Manhattan to a shack in San Francisco with her patient but simple sister Ginger (the tragically almost-unknown Sally Hawkins). Featuring a stellar ensemble cast including Bobby Canavale, Peter Sarsgaard, a career-best (though thats not saying much) Andrew Dice Clay, and Louie C.K. in the better of his two roles this year (the other being the pretty but vacant American Hustle), Blue Jasmine is primarily character piece, taking the idea of the dysfunctional family that August: Osage County attempted, and doing it right. It's a tour-de-force performance from Blanchett and Hawkins, and another stand-out piece of excellence for the Allen oeuvre. (Available on DVD)
11) Gravity
Trying to write about Gravity in February is like trying to write something new about Helen of Troy. So much has already been said, and far better than I could ever say. Like Frozen for the film buff crowd, Alfonso Cuaron's follow-up to the modern classic Children of Men was inescapable this year. Though it didn't seem all the exciting from the trailer, it wound up being the must-see film of the year, a visual spectacle on par with Avatar but with a story that couldn't have been made up by a third grader with crayons and construction paper. Sure, the naysayer could say it was just All Is Lost in space, but to argue this film isn't the must visually stunning film since 2001: A Space Odyssey would be a losing battle. Gravity is Helen of Troy, in that it was the film that launched 1000 bloggers, campaigning to awards love and critical adoration, both of which its thus far gotten. Most of all, Gravity is a true theatrical experience. It demands to be viewed on the big screen. Imax visuals, blaring Dolby sound, beautiful images and a career-best Sandra Bullock make for the most thrilling film of the year, which blasts through its 90 minute run time in the blink of an eye. Call it an epic, call it a spectacle, call it a cinematic game-changer. Gravity made its mark on the sci-fi genre just as Star Wars, Alien and Blade Runner had before it. Though, as with Avatar before it, time will tell whether such a theatrical magic can retain its pull on the small screen. In the months to come, we'll see if our space-bound Helen of Troy is greeted with the praise of Paris, or the grim disappointment of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. But for now, in the minds of those who took to the seats of the cinema, it is a grand, glaringly brilliant star. (Available on DVD)
10) Fruitvale Station
Criminally ignored after its award-winning debut at Sundance (and bleakly relevant in the year of the Travon Martin tragedy), the true story of the final 24 hours of Oscar Grant is profoundly moving, sincerely acted, and brilliantly directed by first-timer Ryan Coogler (who also wrote the screenplay). Small on visual trickery and symbolism but vast in raw, honest humanity, Coogler's unflinching drama about Oscar, a former prisoner determined to turn his life around for the sake of his girlfriend and daughter, doesn't try and whitewash history. Grant tries to give up selling weed, but still gets high. He has anger issues, lies about keeping a job he got fried from through sheer laziness, and has put his poor, patient mother (Octavia Spencer) through hell time and time again, to say nothing of his girlfriend (Melonie Diaz, who deserved far more recognition than she received for the role). With all of his faults, however, Grant didn't deserve to die. Not at the hands of the LAPD, not while trying to stop an altercation, not while handcuffed in Fruitvale station while New Years Eve partiers filmed it with their phones, so that unlike more recent cases, no argument could be made as to who was wrong or right. The boldness of beginning the film with the actual footage of the tragic killing is reminiscent of last year's Amour starting with the corpse of Emmanuelle Riva. The death is inevitable, and the outrage should not come as a shock at the end, but rather build as you connect to a good man looking for a second chance. This is the film that made Michael B. Jordan the hot name that he is now, an the fact that in any other year he'd be an Oscar frontrunner is undeniable (Chiwetel Ejiofor went and took this year's "Minority Actor" slot in the Best Actor category, and if you think I'm kidding, check any year after 2006). Perhaps the most grossly under seen film of the year, Fruitvale Station deserves a second look (or for many, a first). (Available on DVD)
9) Before Midnight
There seem to be two Richard Linklaters. One is the comic genius behind films like Dazed and Confused, School of Rock, and the forgotten but brilliant Bernie. The other a masterful auteur behind Slacker, Waking Life and A Scanner Darkly. And it is this Linklater whom we rejoin this year for another episode in the nearly decennial saga of Celine and Jesse. 1995's wistful lovers, who met on a train and wandered Vienna talking about everything and nothing, became the ones that got away reuniting in Paris in 2004. 2013 finds them together (but not married) on a family trip to Greece (their two daughters and Jesse's son from his first marriage, who returns to America at the start of the film). As usual, they talk. Long tracking shots capture talks of love, life, art and sex. The talk of the past, both ancient (the Greek ruins) and recent (how they met, how they fell in love). But unlike the last two outings we took with them (yet much like real life), time has taken its toll on the couple, and once they're left alone, everything boils to the surface. It hurts to watch Celine and Jesse fight. It hurts more than most films, because we've been with them so long. We've rooted for them, we've swooned over their passion. We've measured our own love against the couple that came back together after 9 years apart, missing a plane to dance to Nina Simone. If the serious Linklater has one theme, its the passage of time, and the damage it does to us all. His even more ambitious Boyhood promises a more direct examination of the subject, but its the ambiguous ending of his (hopefully more than a) trilogy which is both hopeful and haunting. Because, to quote a Lincoln Center retrospective of the three films, "Celine and Jesse Forever". (Available on DVD)
8) Dallas Buyers Club
It would be easy to talk about the "McConaissance" when discussing Dallas Buyer Club, but that would undersell it. As would just focusing on the competition-less Jared Leto's sure-to-be Oscar-winning role. Jean-Marc Vallee's film is far more than two performances, and its about damn time somebody (surpassingly, the usually suckers-for-sappy Academy) took notice. Taking all the rage of last year's passed over documentary How To Survive A Plague, and adding some thrills, some love, and yes, some remarkable performances, Dallas Buyers Club tackles the greatest plague to ever face the modern world, and isn't afraid to call out those who let other suffer for their own profit (even when, at one time, their own protagonist was one to some degree). Far from sanctifying Ron Woodroof, the film goes out of its way (even embellishing history) to paint him as a despicable man. Drinking, drugging and sleeping with prostitutes is just the beginning for the ring-side con man, but when ostracized by his peers after an AIDS diagnosis, Ron discovers that the FDA (under the thumb of AZT lobbyists and the blind eye of an uncaring Reagan administration) won't approve the drugs he needs. Through a disdainful partnership with the transgendered Rayon, Woodroof opens a legal-loophole Buyers Club, saving lives and reaping a profit. The films plays out like an American Hustle which traded all of its glitz for some heart, and reminds us both of a dark time not too long ago, and of the strength we possess to get through even the worst of times. (Available on DVD)
7) The Wolf of Wall Street
To paraphrase a Hess truck ad that paraphrased The Angels: "Scorsese's back, and he's better than ever." To those who claim the film glorifies the criminal life: Yes, in some ways it does. In others, not at all. To those who claim Scorsese was wrong in doing so: Clearly, you must have also hated Goodfellas, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Casino, The Departed, Mean Streets and The King of Comedy. In fact, of all of those films, its the last of them that The Wolf of Wall Street is most reminiscent of, both in its tone and its critical reception. Like King of Comedy, Wolf of Wall Street has been met with some less than favorable reviews, mostly about the ultimate fate of its criminal protagonist. However, if you don't like the reflection of society you see, don't criticize the man holding the mirror. A dark comedy? Sure, but its not inaccurate. Jordan Belfort really did commit those crimes, and really didn't suffer for it. Is Scorsese glorifying this? Only as much as he glorified kidnapping through Rupert Pupkin. The performances are amazing, particularly an awards-worthy DiCaprio and a scene stealing debut from Margot Robbie, The direction is as brilliant as you've come to expect from the master of American cinema, and the content is as outrageous as it can be within the confines of an R-rating. It's uproariously funny, bitingly witty, and brilliantly critical all at once. It's humor doesn't rob it of its critical perspective. Are most people just incapable of laughing and being outraged at the same time? (In theatres. Available on DVD March 25th)
6) Her
Spike Jonze has always been a respected director, but until recently, he'd been working off of scripts by Charlie Kaufman. One look at the career of one-time respected director Michel Gondry (whose classic Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was unmatched by his later work) to see how Kaufman's scripts can really be what make a movie. His first "solo" endeavor proved to be a brilliant but critically ignored adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are, and even then he had assistance on the script from the esteemed Dave Eggers. Her, a story of a man in love with a computer, seemed a prospect with so many ways to go wrong, particularly in the script department, but Jonze proved not only does he not need Kaufman, but that he can make films even more universal and relatable without him. Sophisticated without being overly cerebral, and embed with just the right does of humor to still keep it sincere, Her could have daily just been a critique of our reliance on technology. Instead, its an honest, realistic meditation on what it would be like should A.I. technology advance enough that such a relationship could exist, and why it would inevitably fail, and ultimately provide a portrait on how we as humans do (and should) connect with one another. Joaquin Phoenix sells the whole film with his eyes, and Scarlett Johansson proves just how versatile an actress she can be, creating an entire character with literally nothing. This is the first in a new era of Jonze's career, and it seems even more exciting than the last. (In theatres. Availablity on DVD unknown)
5) The Wind Rises
What will be my legacy? It's a question all artists wonder. It's a question Jiro Horikoshi wonders, as he visits with the spirit of the famous Gianni Caproni, and a question Miyazaki seemed to wonder as he crafted his latest, and sadly final film. Hayao Miyazaki, the man behind Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro, and Howl's Moving Castle, has chosen to retire, and has capped off his career with his most realistic, grounded and personal film. No forest creatures or dust sprites here. Just the best look at WWII Japan through their eyes since another Studio Ghibli release, Grave of the Fireflies. Some had hoped for a more wistful film, but here Miyazaki outdoes himself by baring his soul. The Wind Rises is a touching story of Jiro, who wants to design airplanes, because "he wants to make something beautiful". There's mediations between he and Caproni on whether making a beautiful weapon of war is still art. Caproni argues that even though horrible circumstances built the pyramids, "I'd still rather live in world with pyramids." The film is really two stories, one being the design and building of the Mitsubishi A5M (which, though used against us in war, doesn't make it any less remarkable a design), the other his meeting, re-meeting and eventual falling in love with Naoko. Both, in the end are tragic stories. In the end, none of Jiro's beautiful planes would return from a bloodshed which haunts him. And Naoko informs Jiro upon their engagement that she suffers from tuberculosis, and though they try, theirs is a doomed love. "An artist gets 10 good years" Caproni tells Jiro. Clearly, Caproni, in all of his sage advice, is the voice within Miyazaki's head which has urged him to retire. But he was wrong about one thing. Hayao has had more than ten good years, and this final one has yielded something extraordinary. From the gorgeous, hand-drawn animation (the scene where Naoko suffers hemorrhaging in her lungs is the most tragically beautiful moment in any film this year) to the Joe Hisaishi score that ranges from sweeping to somber with the ease of an umbrella in the breeze, the film uses its biographical aspects to meditate on the nature of art, much in the same way Stephen Sondheim did with Sunday in the Park With George. "Airplanes are beautiful dreams" Caproni tells a young Jiro. So are films, Miyazaki reminds us. Beautiful dreams that, if you have the power to create them, you must. No matter the cost. That is your legacy. As it is his. A legacy of beautiful dreams. (In theaters)
4) The Great Beauty
It's usually not a good sign when the same word keeps cropping up to describe a film. It usually means there's nothing much else to say about it. But undeniably, Paolo Sorrentino's tale of a aging socialite in a fading society is "Fellini-esque". Though not a paparazzo, the use of Rome's gorgeous locations, the sleekness of the suits and the carefree nature of its party life (to say nothing of its surreal crowd scenes and religious overtones), Jep Gambardella is if La Dolce Vita's Marcello Rubini turned 65 in modern day Rome, to find all his friends dying, his good years behind him, and lifestyle on the brink of extinction. The film spends as much time focused on groups of one-time lovers bickering about the decay of modern Rome as it does focused on Bacchanalian parties. It's not a straightforward narrative so much as old eyes wandering through Rome, perceiving it as it really is, not as it appears. The religious ceremony of Botox, the cruelly sadistic nature of the "child star", the vapid nature of the pseudo-intellectual. Its cinematography is criminally ignored this year by the Academy (though its sure to pick up the Foreign Language statue), it's not so much "The Last Days of Disco" so much as"The Last Disco Dancer", wandering around, philosophizing and exposing the absurdity of social protocols in a way only one over 65 can. Beautiful, fanciful, and a love letter to Rome as only an Italian can make, The Great Beauty really does say it all. (Available on DVD March 25th)
3) The Act of Killing
Never has there been a documentary as bold, as unique, or as chilling as this. A few decades back, Errol Morris broke new ground with The Thin Blue Line, using reenactments to replace talking heads in the story of a man framed for murder. But imagine if instead of Morris directing the recreations, he handed the director's chair over to the actual killer. That's exactly what Joshua Oppenheimer did when paramilitary leader and "movie theatre gangster" Anwar Congo complained that he didn't like the demonstration of how to kill a man with wire he'd performed for Joshua's documentary because "I would have never worn white pants". Thus begins a delusional endeavor on the part of Anwar and his fellow former killers to make a film accurately recreating their killings because "people must know the truth". However, it snowballs, with attempts at "adding humor" (one of the former killers dresses in drag) and dancing killers mixed in with brutal reenactments of genocide (which we know are 100% accurate, as the men go to great lengths to achieve it). To watch this men in action is astounding. The reenactments are haunting enough, but its when they're not "acting", and speaking frankly about how important the work they did was, that stays with the viewer long after the credits have rolled. After a time, The Act of Killing ceases to be a document of the genocides, and instead becomes a film about the very nature of evil. There are very few documentaries that are "must see" films. This earns its place in that category, and perhaps even at the top of the list. (Available on DVD and Netflix Instant)
Unable to choose between two extraordinary films this year, the #1 and #2 positions are actually a tie for first. It would be impossible to decide between two such powerful films.
1 & 2) 12 Years A Slave
After the rocky Shame, it wouldn't be wrong of anyone to have hesitation going into McQueen's next film, especially to see how he'd handle such emotionally dense subject matter when his last film was so melodramatic. Yet Steve McQueen has created brilliance in this, his newest work. The story of Solomon Northrup is astoundingly undertold, and almost unbelievable. It brings the horrors of slavery to the forefront, unflinching without being exploitative. Skin is shown being ripped from the backs of slaves under the lash. Rape isn't implied but shown, and the slave owners are brutal without being cartoons, compassionate without being saints. The film relies very much on its main performer, and Chiwetel Ejiofor delivers so raw, so fierce and so magnificent that no man but the most bitterly prejudiced can't relate to such intense suffering. Somber cinematography and an incredible supporting cast, including a heart wrenching turn as Patsy by Lupita Nyongo and a horrifying Michael Fassbender as the wicked Edwin Epps, help anchor the film in such an extraordinary emotion that the film becomes the definitive take on this tragic time in history, without ever once feeling exploitative or self-important (this isn't the time or place to wonder why there are far more holocaust films than slavery films, but at some point that should be wondered about). McQueen has done a remarkable thing with this film, an inimitable type of magic that occurs when everything comes together perfectly, and a film can plunge into the depths of the human soul and plant something that stays there forever. (In theatres. Available on DVD March 4th)
1 & 2) Blue Is The Warmest Colour
It was unprecedented when the Cannes film festival awarded the Palme D'Or not just to director Abdelatif Kechiche, but to the film's two stars Lea Seydoux and the unknown Adele Exarchopoulos. A festival grounded, at times stubbornly so, in tradition breaking from it so strongly made Blue is the Warmest Colour a massively talked about film before anyone even knew about the 3+ hour run time or the sex scene so graphic it might never get seen in the US. Then the talk of the sex scene came, and never went away. Everyone was fixated on it, for better or worse. Finally it came to the US and...nothing. No Oscars, no big uproar. It turns out people would much rather talk about a 3 hour French film with a sex scene than bother to watch it. Which is an absolute tragedy, because leaving the film, you don't remember the run time, or the sex. You do remember seeing something extraordinary, and witnessing one of the greatest performances ever committed to film.
Blue is the Warmest Colour tells the story of Adele, who begins the film at age 15. She has a boyfriend, does alright in school, and spends time with her friends. Everything changes, however, when she meets Emma. Emma is older, she's an artist. She's well read, sophisticated, and attractive. The two bond, and eventually fall in love. Yes, its a lesbian romance, but the film isn't a "gay film" in the way Brokeback Mountain was. It's not about discovering ones homosexuality, but discovering one's self. Is Adele attracted to Emma for her gender? No, it's her intellect, her attitude, her maturity. The very things that will cause their relationship to ultimately fail. The things that ultimately kill so many relationships. Certainly, in the first hour Adele faces ridicule for "being a dyke", but after that, no one cares. The film is a beautiful love story that happens to be between two women, but their gender is inconsequential. It's a coming of age story about the mistakes everyone makes when falling in love. Everyone has, at one time or another, either been Adele or Emma, swept up in someone's intellect or innocence, pushing them to be the person you want them to be until something just breaks. The writing is beautiful, and directing great, but truly its the two actresses, and especially Exarchopoulos, who elevate the film to absolute perfection. Her emotion is honest and beautiful, and there isn't an insincere moment in the 3 hours we follow her. The film is the story of a failed love, a universal heartbreak, and a remarkable piece of cinema the likes of which we'll not see again in a long time. (Available on DVD and Netflix Instant)
Other "Best of the Year" Accolades
Best Director of the Year:
Hayao Miyazaki for The Wind Rises
My criteria for choosing the "Best Director" has always been to think of a great movie, and imagine that the script, the actors, the crew were all the same, but the director was different. Would the film still be nearly as good. The story of Jiro Horikoshi in any other hands, honestly would not have existed. Other directors put their heart into a film, but Miyazaki buries himself into every frame (genuinely fretting over every single frame, his animators say). That whole world is his, and it's a beautiful world at that.
Runner-Up: Joshua Oppenheimer for The Act of Killing & Paul Greengrass for Captain Phillips
Best Screenplay of the Year:
Richard Linklater, Ethan Hawke & Julie Delpy for Before Midnight
A Before... script will always be unlike any other script in its year. A brilliant blend of philosophy, romance and reality. This year was no exception, and in its sincere look at middle age, the globe-trotting trio have truly nailed it.
Runner-Up: Spike Jonze for Her
Best Cinematography of the Year
Phillipe Le Sourd for The Grandmaster
Wong Kar-Wai's masterful biopic about Bruce Lee mentor Ip Man just barely missed the Top 20 this year, and while the film was astoundingly directed, the standout piece of the film was Phillipe Le Sourd's gorgeous cinematography. Every frame of the film is perfect photograph, and the film is an absolute visual delight.
Runner-Up: Luca Bigazzi for The Great Beauty
Best Editing of the Year:
Christopher Rouse for Captain Phillips
The thrills and rapid-fire pacing of Greengrass' ocean-bound action film owe a huge debt to Rouse's intense edits.
Runner-Up: Douglas Crise for Spring Breakers
Best Score of the Year:
Hans Zimmer for Man of Steel
When Zack Snyder declared that the iconic John Williams score for Superman would not be used in his reboot, there was uproar from all but the most faithful believers. Even in the trailer, Zimmer's subdued score didn't seem to fit the big blue boy scout, but gave many the incineration that this might be an attempt to "Dark Knight" the last son of Krypton. Instead, what we got was a sweeping, triumphant blast of strings and horns that proved to be the most memorable aspect of an otherwise underwhelming origin story.
Runners-Up: Skrillex & Cliff Martinez for Spring Breakers & Joe Hisaishi for The Wind Rises
Best Song of the Year
"Let It Go" by Idina Menzel (written by Robert Lopez) for Frozen
Above, I made brief mention of Frozen composer Robert Lopez. Admittedly, if one criticism has been leveled against Disney's triumph, its the underwhelming music. And while most of the songs are catchy but forgettable, it's Elsa's ballad "Let It Go" that has taken the world by storm. Belted by the unbeatable Idina Menzel, the song is the kind of power ballad most Broadway shows sell tickets with, and most divas hope to have in their repertoire. Originally in a lower key, Menzel asked to raise it so that she could really let loose. It's paid off, producing a track that's epic, brilliant, and has conquered the damned country, topping the Billboard charts like to Disney song in recent memory.
Runner-Up: "Hikoukigumo" by Yumi Matsutoya from The Wind Rises
Best Actor of the Year
Matthew McConaughey as Ron Woodruf in Dallas Buyers Club
Between Mud, Killer Joe, and HBO's addictive True Detective, Matthew McConaughey would have already more than made up for films like Sahara and Surfer, Dude (but not Fool's Gold. He never has to apologize for Fool's Gold). Yet it's his remarkable turn as Ron Woodroof that has eradicated any doubt in anyone's mind about the talent of the man who once expounded the great thing about high school girls. Few actors get roles as good as this, and even fewer do them right. McConaughey is a true talent, and it seems like the McConaissance is nowhere near over.
Runner-Up: Cheiwetel Ejiefor as Solomon Northrup in 12 Years A Slave
Best Actress of the Year
Adele Exarchopoulos as Adele in Blue is the Warmest Colour
I've talked above about Ms. Exarchopoulos, but she is undeniably a revelation in the film. More than the script or the director, that film works because of her. Her vulnerability, her intensity, her immense talent all create what could function as a master class for any serious actor. It's the kind of performance that's almost never seen, and the Academy was crazy to ignore it.
Runner-Up: Cate Blanchett for Jasmine in Blue Jasmine
Best Supporting Actor of the Year
Jared Leto for Rayon in Dallas Buyers Club
Though there are four other nominees for Best Supporting Actor this year, no one has a chance against Leto. And not because of campaigning or politics. He's just that much better than the competition. If you remember nothing else about the film, you remember Rayon.
Runner-Up: James Franco as Alien in Spring Breakers
Best Supporting Actress of the Year
Sally Hawkins as Ginger in Blue Jasmine
Hawkins has a tough challenge, keeping up with Blanchett without ever overpowering her, and she juggles that with such an incredible skill that her subdued Ginger goes ignored when next to the intense Patsy from 12 Years A Slave or the explosive but miscast Jennifer Lawrence of American Hustle, but pound of pound, Hawkins earns the title of Best Supporting Actress this year.
Runner-Up: Lea Seydoux as Emma in Blue Is The Warmest Colour
Best Ensemble Cast
August: Osage County
Plays rarely translate to film well. Frost/Nixon, Doubt, Carnage. People get drawn in by the stories, but something is always off. It could be that the kind of dialogue that works on stage doesn't work on film. It could be that the kind of big emotions needed to reach the back row don't work in close ups. Whatever it is, it happened here, but that doesn't mean the terrific cast didn't act the hell out of this film.
Runner-Up: American Hustle
Breakout Performance of the Year
Adele Exarchopoulos as Adele in Blue is the Warmest Colour
Runner-Up: Melonie Diaz for Sophina Mesa in Fruitvale Station
Best Animated Short(s)
Normally, I'd just pick one, but this year, three shorts of three different distribution models (theatrical short, web-based short, and DVD-exclusive short) stood out so greatly, I felt the need to highlight them.
Theatrical: Get A Horse
There had been talk of this film, dubbed by some "The Purple Rose of Orlando" for some time, and honestly, there was more buzz about this short than the film it preceded (nobody expected Frozen to make nearly the fortune it has, which might balance out the disasterous losses Disney took on The Lone Ranger). The idea of switching from standard 2-D animation to 3-D computer animation has been done before, but never, the early reports said, like this. More intriguing was the purported use of Walt Disney's original Mickey Mouse voice. Painstakingly crafted from years worth of old clips (weeks went into just getting Mickey to say the word "Red?" surprised, in reaction to the color of his pants), Get A Horse lives up to even the highest expectations, and is the first Disney film, short or long, to utilize the 3-D glasses to their full potential (the extra 20% ticket price is worth it for this short. For the feature after...not so much). It's a raucous, slapstick short that brings Mickey Mouse back to his original (much more violent) form, making the classic characters accessible to children too young and impatient to enjoy Steamboat Willie, and paying great respect to the past, both with original voice actors "reprising" their roles, and with little in-jokes like a brief appearance of proto-Mouse Oswald the Lucky Rabbit; all the while, the film still looks forward, showing that Mickey Mouse can work in 3-D, that the animated short isn't dead (or at least there's other options than Pixar using some new, innovative technique to retread the same "cute" cartoon again and again before each reputation-weakening sequel), and that anyone still bemoaning the "death" of Disney after three successful CGI films (Tangled, Wreck-It Ralph, and Frozen) need simply, to quote Peg-leg Pete's car horn, "Make way for the future!"
Runner-Up: Feral
Web-based: Bee And Puppycat
The team over at Cartoon Hangover (animation giant Frederator's online distribution sect) have been producing a stream of stellar work in their first year. From Adventure Time creator Pendleton Ward's hit series Bravest Warriors to hilarious shorts like Doctor Lollipop and Our New Electrical Morals, Cartoon Hangover looked poised to be churning out Oscar-worthy animated shorts in the near future (granted, since they're debuting online, they don't qualify for Oscars). And they did it even sooner than that, with Natasha Allegri's brilliantly awkward Bee and Puppycat. If you ever wondered what would happen if 30 Rock's Liz Lemon were dropped into a Studio Ghibli film, this is the result. Cynical without being sarcastic, and filled with childlike wonder through the eyes of a 20-something, the short launched the fourth largest Kickstarter campaigned of all time to produce a series of Bee and Puppycat episodes. Stylistically stunning and infinitely quotable, the short is well worth 10 minutes of your time, so that you too can wait with bated breath for the series to launch come August.
Runner-Up: Our New Electrical Morals
DVD-Exclusive: The History of Superman (from the Man of Steel DVD/Blu-Ray)
Go to your local brick-and-mortar movie store, head towards the new releases, and grab the Blu-Ray (or DVD) of Zack Snyder's newest blockbuster. You're holding in your hands the greatest Superman film ever made, bar none. No, not the tonal mish-mash Man of Steel, but the two minute short Zack Snyder debuted at this year's New York Comic Con to celebrate the 75th Anniversary of the Man of Tomorrow. The History of Superman, to the tune of both John Williams and Hans Zimmers' scores, brings to life 75 years of stories and art styles, from the Flesicher cartoons to Andy Warhol works, Christopher Reeves to Henry Cavill, and will bring a tear to the eye of any life-long Superman fan. Your move, Batman 75th Anniversary in 2014.
Runner-Up: Panic in the Mailroom (from the Despicable Me 2 DVD/Blu-ray)
Best Live Action Short
Avant Que De Tout Perdre (Just Before Losing Everything)
There are some good shorts nominated this year for Best Live Action Short (and then there's Pitääkö Mun Kaikki Hoitaa?which has no reason to be nominated, but let's not get into that). Yet to sit down and watch them altogether, you give up as soon as the credits roll on Avant Que De Tout Perdre. A tense thriller of the every day life, the film burns up the screen and then is gone in almost an instant, knocking any competition to the wayside.
Runner-Up: The Voorman Problem
Best Animated Feature
The Wind Rises
Runner-Up: Frozen
Best Documentary
The Act of Killing
Runner-Up: Stories We Tell
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) Jackass Presents Bad Grandpa: The Biker Bar
Admittedly, I wouldn't have even seen Bad Grandpa had I not seen all of the Best Picture nominees early on and decided to see as many other nominees as I could. But I'm glad I did. Johnny Knoxville has always shown some acting ability, in what little opportunity he's had to show it in films like The Dukes of Hazzard and The Ringer. But in and amongst fart jokes and prosthetic testicles, there's a story about a boy and his grandfather, and the near final scene, in a biker bar when the grandfather hands the kid over to his father, there's real emotion. It's a good scene, and its touching. It shows the talent Knoxville never gets to use, and it reminds us that great moments can be in the least expected places.
Scene not available
14) Thor 2: The Dark World: Captain America's "Cameo"
In an otherwise alright movie, one fun moment crops up when Thor's brother Loki uses his shape-shifting to comical affect. Brief, but another reminder of the grand cinematic universe Marvel is creating.
13) Inside Llewyn Davis: "Please, Mr. Kennedy"
Is the song highly derivative of "Please Mr. Custer"? Absolutely. That's part of the fun. "Please Mr. Kennedy" is the ultimate hokey novelty song, but the fact that Llewyn takes himself so seriously he can't see it for the cash cow that it is is just another rung on the collapsing ladder he's climbing.
12) The Evil Dead: Ash's Return
The Evil Dead remake was sorely underrated, serving as a fresh take on the franchise. However, the presence of a familiar car in front of the cabin gave Raimi fans a chill up their spine and hope in their heart, and those smart enough to stay through the credits got an amazing moment that ties it all together.
11) Nebraska: The Family Reunion
Above I discussed the realness of Nebraska, and how people just exist. No better, or more comic, is that on display than in this scene of a "family reunion" that is the epitome of the Alexander Payne humor.
10) The Wolf of Wall Street: "This company..." Speech
And herein lies the thesis of Scorsese's return to form. From the animal yawls of the brokers to the dictatorial delivery of Leo's Belfort, if this company is America (and it is), then America is a scary place.
9) This Is The End: Danny McBride's Entrance
In a film rife with riotous cameos and meta-humor, by far the most memorable moment is the first appearance of a post-apocalypse Danny McBride, portrayed as the foulest of the foul, bursting onto the scene like a bull in a china shop, if that pull was determined to defecate everywhere.
8) The Wolf of Wall Street: The Popeye Scene
The dark comedy of Scorsese's film comes to a peak when, loaded up on expired quaaludes to the point of near paralysis, Jordan's partner Donnie chokes on a piece of ham. Needing to regain his mobility, Jordan gets inspiration from a Popeye cartoon and the kind of logic only an addict possesses.
7) Gravity: Opening shot
The initial 18 minutes of Gravity are dazzling, dizzying and maddeningly stunning. Undeniably the best opening tracking shot since Boogie Nights, this sets the perfect tone for the epic adventure to follow.
6) Her: The Sex Scene
Her is a visually striking film, but no more so than in its bold choice of nothingness. The "sex" that takes place between Theodore Twombly and Samantha happens in complete darkness. And not movie darkness, but an absolute black screen. Just voices. The boldest visual choice of the year was to do nothing at all.
Scene not available
5) Man of Steel: Superman Takes Flight
Though the film as a whole underwhelmed, and the final battle was too much but the most ardent explosion fans, the first flight of Kal-El was exactly what fans had been wanting, but could never have until the technology caught up (and Bryan Singer stopped being involved).
4) 12 Years A Slave: "Roll, Jordan Roll"
The turning point in the struggle of Solomon Northrup also happens to be the most heart wrenching scene in the film, as slaves gather to mourn a death in song, and Solomon accepts his place among them, joining in.
3) Frozen: "Let It Go"
Cause come on, nobody's going to the sing-along's for "She's A Bit Of A Fix 'er Upper".
2) Blue Is The Warmest Colour: The Meeting After The Break-Up
The most powerful scene in the tumultuous romance isn't the highly emotional break-up, but rather the almost tranquil pain of the after-break-up dinner meeting, where a disheveled Adele listens to Emma talk about her not so perfect new love. Brutal and beautiful.
Scene not available online
1) The Lone Ranger: The Final Train Sequence
One of my most underrated films of the year (to be published as a separate article this year), The Lone Ranger is admittedly overly long, and plague with a bizarre framing device, but the final moments of the film erupt into an old school train chase that is everything anyone could want from a Lone Ranger movie. It's an absolutely perfect moment, soundtrack by the classic Lone Ranger anthem, the "William Tell Overture". It's a solid 20 minutes of action and excitement, perfectly nailing every character. It shouldn't work, at all. It should be hokey or dumb, particularly with the song accompanying it. But it's not. It does work. It works so god damned well.
Looking Ahead!
The Films I'm looking Most Forward to in 2014
The Grand Budapest Hotel: Wes Anderson has been on a hot-streak as of late (though, really, his whole career save Steve Zissou has been a hot streak), and both the ever growing cast of Anderson regulars and the unique aspect ratio make this the most intriguing prospect of 2014. Trailer
Whiplash: Before this Miles Teller/J.K. Simmons sleeper-hit took top prize, a friend at Sundance gave the film the kind of emphatic recommendation that would shoot it to the top of anyone's list. Interview
Veronica Mars: A long time ago (2005), Veronica Mars and I used to be friends, but I hadn't thought of her lately at all. Then an incredibly ambitious Kickstarter launched, and changed, if not the way we make movies, at least the way we think about making them. Will it do well financially? Who can say? (Though Warner Bros. is doing themselves a disservice not making the original series available for streaming. Netflix was built for binge-watching, and they need to create a hunger for this flick). But when its being made by the people who love it, its certain to be satisfying. Trailer
Inherent Vice: P.T. Anderson is one of those rare directors who never fails. Are his films divisive? Sometimes. I hated Magnolia, which others praise. Some despised The Master, which I thought to be one of the best films of last year. So Anderson can disappoint, but when he disappoints, he does so with such a fabulous, gleaming audacity that he continually earns his place as the best, boldest director working today. If anyone were capable of taking on the gargantuan task of bringing Thomas Pynchon to the silver screen, its him.
Guardians of the Galaxy: The madcap brilliance of Troma-alum James Gunn has been on display before in the under seen Slither and Super, but its about to get some wide-release, mass-promoted exposure from the House of Mouse as he tackles one of Marvel Comics most unknown teams, granting him freedom from all but the most obsessive comic junkies scrutiny, and letting him loose in the cesspool of coke-fueled ideas of "Let's catch up to Star Wars" that was Marvel comics' 70's and 80's sci-fi output. A talking raccoon? Check. A walking tree that can only say its name, voice by The Iron Giant? Check. John C. Reilly, Glenn Close, and a bald Doctor Who companion? Check. James Gunn on a multi-million dollar budget? Don't go in with any expectations or reservations. Just take old Dr. Gonzo's advice: Buy the ticket and take the ride. Trailer
Jodorowsky's Dune: Speaking of space adventures...While cinema history is filled with amazing, daring films, it will always be haunted by the ghosts of what could have been. Stanley Kubrick had toyed with the idea of doing a Batman movie (as well as his famous-almost film Napoleon). Alfred Hitchcock's bore Frenzy was almost an X-rated necrophilia thriller on the streets of New York called Kaleidoscope. There was going to be a 5th Batman after Batman & Robin with Howard Stern as The Scarecrow, and a Tim Burton directed Superman starring Nicholas Cage. Most times, all we have is a title to let our minds wander, but this painstakingly crafted documentary promises to show what could have been, if instead of David Lynch's forgivable failure of a Frank Herbert film, the surrealist master Alejandro Jodorowsky had taken on Dune. Trailer
Boyhood: Anyone who loves films and hasn't heard about Boyhood just hasn't been listening. The incredibly ambitious story of a boy aging 12 years (shot over the course of 12 years with the same actors), if nothing else, promises to be audacious, bringing the passage of time to the forefront.
The Raid 2: Berandal: Gareth Evans showed some of the most impressive and innovative filmmaking techniques in The Raid: Redemption, but its plot was a barren wasteland that left the film a vapid shoot-em-up (but a very cool looking one). From Part 2's trailer alone (as well as some good will he bought with his V/H/S 2 segment), Evans is promising us more action, more intensity, and most of all more story than we got from the first installment. Trailer
Sin City: A Dame To Kill For: It was a tough year for Robert Rodriguez, seeing his hopes for a Mexican B-Movie trilogy go down the drain with the (honestly, realistically in no way shocking) failure of Machete Kills. Time to take of the "wacky casting" hat, and get back in the directors chair, it seems, as Rodriguez returns to the franchise which revived his credibility after one Spy Kids too many.
A Million Ways To Die In The West: Seth MacFarlane didn't disappoint with his directorial debut, Ted, and while a satire of the Western isn't exactly the easiest sell (classic spoofs like Cat Ballou and Blazing Saddles struck while the iron was hot. Now the genre is, save Django, dead in the water), MacFarlane has shown he can be brilliant when he's passionate and unrestrained. Trailer
Gone Girl: On the one hand, its David Fincher, and the story sounds right up his alley. The story, of course, is Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl, the most popular (non-mysoginistic pornography) book in recent memory, and will star Ben Affleck, one of the most under appreciated actors of our day. On the other hand, the last wildly popular muder-thriller novel before Gone Girl was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which also seemed like an obvious choice for Fincher, who turned out an over-praised, underwhelming film that's virtually forgotten in less than two years. This one could go either way.
The Boxtrolls: Laika's films, in their meticulous construction, have always been a pleasant experience, be it the stellar Coraline or the cute (and impressively progressive) Paranorman. Their take on Here Be Monsters! promises to be more of the same. Trailer
X-Men: Days of Future Past: Bryan Singer loves this franchise, and must have been saddened to see what became of it in the hands of Brett Ratner when Singer left to set the bar rely low for Man of Steel. Now that Matthew Vaughn restarted the franchise in the least likely of ways (modern gritty reboot? Nah, dawg. 60's retro-chic with a bunch of moderately famous people and no Wolverine claws), Singer is back, and he's doing something wild: actually using the comic books. I never like the demand reverence, but I hope Singer, by taking on one of the most iconic tales in X-Men lore, shows studios they needn't "gritty-up" characters, and that there's decade of rich source material to adapt, rather than concoct their own, often underwhelming, stories. Trailer
Interstellar: Christopher Nolan can be one of the most daring, intelligent, cryptic and envelope pushing directors Hollywood still gives money too. He can also be one of the most pretentious, self-important bores to ever call "action". He's at his best with less money (as evidenced by the disparity in quality between "Who is this guy" Nolan's brilliant Memento and "He's the greatest director ever" Nolan's bloated Inception and turgid The Dark Knight Rises) and free of interference (either from producers with input or studios wanting to sell toys). His right-wing political leanings actually make for engaging cinema (The Dark Knight) when he's not so desperate to make them (the hodgepodge lack of message in his follow-up). Interstellar, from what little we get in the teaser, seems as though it might return to his objectivist angle, playing like and Atlas Shrugged in space, with Matthew McCaughnehey (at the peak of his McCaughnessaince) acting as a makeshift John Galt. Or it could just be another "Nolan blockbuster", blowing smoke up the asses of the squatting pseudo-intellectuals, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Trailer
Captain America 2: Winter Soldier: It could be as bland as its predecessor. It could be overloaded with too many characters. Or it could be a stellar political espionage thriller, and surpass even the best of the Marvel movies thus far. Either way, Robert Redford is in it, so I've bought my ticket just from pure curiosity. Trailer
Jersey Boys: This Tony-winning jukebox musical about The Four Seasons has been begging for a film since its curtains first opened. It's thrilling, moving, fast-paced and quintessentially American. Not just American, but NY/NJ to a T. So can smell the smog and pizza at the first notes of "Sherrie". It's Scorsese on stage, 100%. So the fact that its being directed, not by the man whose films the shows actors were specifically told to emulate, but by Unforgiven-helmer (and 100% Californian) Clint Eastwood does give one pause.
Fading Gigolo: It is rarely (Woody Allen is an exception) the case where "Written, Directed and Starring" has ever resulted in a classic film rather than a vanity project, and aside from the somewhat memorable Romance & Cigarettes, John Turturro hasn't made anything to convince me his tale of a middle-aged male prostitute isn't just a really expensive ploy to get Sofia Vergara and Sharon Stone in bed with him. Ordinarily, this would be the kind of film whose trailer I'd watch in passing, and maybe stream on Netflix years later. But, honestly, you had me at "Woody Allen plays a pimp". Trailer
Into The Woods: Oh, Rob Marshall. On the one hand, you gave us Chicago. On the other hand, Nine. You've got the star of one of the best musicals in recent memory, Johnny Depp. You've also got Meryl Streep, headliner of one of the most so-bad-its-good movie musicals since You Can't Stop The Music. It's a coin toss, but I'm still intrigued.
The Hunger Games: Mockingjay- Part 1: In terms of filmmaking, Catching Fire was lightyears ahead of the original Hunger Games, so one can hope the caliber of behind-the-camera talent continues to grow now that the franchise has undoubtedly proven successful.
Annie: It could be a train-wreck, and while changing the race of certain characters really has no effect on the quality of a film, any change could be an improvement on the musical theatre classic that everyone without kids and past the age of 12 just sorta tolerates.
That's it for my 2013 Film Wrap-Up. Agree? Disagree? Think I missed something? Chime in in the comments. Want a second opinion, or even a third? Check out the write-ups from my friends Tom Lorenzo, Robert LaRosa and Josh Paige.
Well, what better way to start off a list like this than at the very start of the genre. Decades before Belle danced in the ballroom, only two score years shy of a century before Buzz and Woody took flight, and only 5 years before Warner Brothers would offer their own regrettable, and almost impossible to find (for good reason), take on the classic tale; Walt Disney had a dream. Having several hit cartoon shorts under his belt, and introduced the world to the most iconic mouse of all time with the classic Steamboat Willie, Walt decided to create the first ever feature-length cell-animated film. His wife and family tried to dissuade him, the papers all predicted a flop, decrying it's exorbitant $250,000 budget (remember, this is the Depression, folks). Well, two things happened: One: Through Disney mortgaging his home, and kicking off a rich Disney legacy of insanely ballooning budgets, Snow White's costs shot up to around $1,488,422.74; Two: None of that mattered, because the film became one of the biggest successes in history, quintupling its budget in its initial run (holding the record for highest grossing sound film of all time until a little Civil War epic came along), it made Disney an absolute household name, laid the foundation for the most innovative and beloved motion picture company in history, and broke the mold of motion pictures forever. And speaking of molds, this is also the origin of the "Disney Princess movie". The seminal public domain tale, pumped full of color and song, brought to life in a style many have imitated but none have matched. How does the film stack up against the Little Mermaids and Tangleds of the later years? Honestly, it's a lot like watching the first outing of the now definitive secret agent, 1962's Dr. No. The sound quality leaves a lot to be desired, and certain moments feel very dated, even slow at times. Techniques that appear fairly rough here have been polished and perfected over time, and a few of the iconic traits of the franchise haven't come to be yet; but the most surprising thing is how much stays the same. The film strikes gold in discovering a perfect formula Disney has rarely successfully wavered from, and the blueprints mined from this classic have yielded a pantheon of classic cartoons. Though, to her credit, the old girl holds up brilliantly on her own, and for 76 years old, the girl still looks damn good..jpg)
9) Fritz The Cat (1972)
5) Akira (1988)
3) Spirited Away (2001)
2) Beauty and the Beast
1) Fantasia (1940)
