The Top One Hundred and Six Movies of the Oughts (75-61)
As I said before, I realised after posting the first installment of this list that I had missed off some films, and decided to pay homage to those movies in the intros. I’m annoyed at not including Christopher McQuarrie’s Way of the Gun as it’s a very impressive directorial debut that vanished after release and is only now starting to attract any attention years later.
Not enough attention, though. If you’ve not seen it and feel like watching a really uncompromising crime thriller that occupies a middle ground between Walter Hill’s Johnny Handsome and Sam Peckinpah’s Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia, then this is the movie for you. Benicio Del Toro and Ryan Phillippe play two scumbag criminals who kidnap a pregnant woman and end up bringing down a world of pain on themselves. It’s a gratifyingly dark movie, one of those movies made with the input of some well trained combat veterans (like Mamet’s Spartan and Michael Mann’s Heat) which is reflected in some tight and well-thought-out setpieces. It also features some superbly choreographed gunfights and one of the best opening scenes of the decade. I like this movie well enough to really regret missing it out, but if I were to include it now I would have to remove another movie from the list and I can’t really do that. If I were doing it over again, Way of the Gun would be definitely be included, and quite high up too.
Okay, remember the rules. Nothing from 2009 because blah blah and yes, some movies are a little lower than you would expect but I only saw them once and don’t feel familiar enough with them to assess them correctly, so I’m going with first impressions. Got that? Good.
75. Red Road
The feature debut of Andrea Arnold is one of the smartest thrillers to come out of Britain in decades. A sly commentary on the UK’s obsession with CCTV as well as being a gripping tale of revenge, the movie comes into its own with a surprising redemptive finale. Kudos also to Kate Dickie, who plays haunted protagonist Jackie with equal parts sensitivity and menace.
74. Speed Racer
Widely loathed by audiences and critics everywhere, the Wachowski’s put their reputations on the line with the boldest cross-format adaptation ever. Making the visual conventions and storytelling shortcuts of anime into vividly coloured flesh, Speed Racer offers the most consistently mindblowing visual assault of recent times, while the enthusiastic cast provide the heart. A pure triumph. Shut it, haters.
73. Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
It might be an impossibility to make a starring vehicle for John C. Reilly — complete with songs — that could fail. Certainly this was not a financial success, but in time a cult will gather around Jake Kasdan and Judd Apatow’s faux-biopic, and it will get its due for its perfect use of the genre’s conventions against itself. (Check out John Michael Higgins’ expression at 3:02. Genius.)
72. A Scanner Darkly
Perhaps the definitive Philip K. Dick adaptation, perfectly capturing his absurdist prose and paranoid, reality-denying worldview. Richard Linklater found the ideal vehicle for the unworldly rotoscoping animation that Bob Sabiston utilised so brilliantly in the also-impressive Waking Life (another contender for this list). Perfectly cast and beautifully animated, A Scanner Darkly humanises Dick’s abstract musings, something that his other interpreters have struggled with.
71. Spirited Away
Hayao Miyazaki’s hallucinatory childrens’ tale has the nightmarish morality lessons of Disney’s Pinocchio, and the matter-of-fact oddness of Lewis Carroll. By turning the real world upside down and creating a dreamland governed by rules and laws that have only a distorted relation to our own, Miyazaki has created a hazy fable for the ages.
70. The Wrestler
For much of its running time Darren Aronofsky’s adaptation of Robert D. Siegel’s tight screenplay looks like a standard comeback tale, but by the end we see what it really is: a tragedy about a man whose inability to adapt to the world around him dooms him. The final image is heartbreaking, iconic, and unforgettable. It also features what might be the comeback performance of the decade from a never-better Mickey Rourke.
69. Sideways
Alexander Payne’s delicate tale of friendship took critics by storm but in the most memorable Academy Award snub in recent memory, Paul Giamatti’s performance was not even nominated for an honour. For shame. His depiction of a man attempting to fend off the pain of life through booze and defensive snobbery is heartbreaking, his redemption quiet but moving.
68. Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence
One of the most underrated SF movies of the decade, Mamoru Oshii’s meditation on transhumanity may have fewer wow moments than his original adaptation of Shirow Masamune’s manga, but it follows the same themes into deeper holes. It’s easy to get happily lost in them.
67. Spider
Funding problems almost shut production down on this adaptation of Patrick McGrath’s novel, but it made it to cinemas, to an indifferent audience. Ralph Fiennes gives the performance of a lifetime in an exaggerated nightmare world of poverty, insanity, murder and grime. Cronenberg’s emotionally claustrophobic vision lingers long after the credits roll.
66. Iron Man
Possibly the most ambitious film project since Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, Marvel Studios’ attempt to create a complete onscreen universe a la the 616 got off to a terrific start last year. The Incredible Hulk was fun, but Iron Man was a near-total success. Light, exciting, and endlessly entertaining, it also propelled Robert Downey Jr. to the superstardom he has always deserved.
65. The King of Kong
Forget superhero movies. One of the decades greatest showdowns was between gaming enthusiasts Billy Mitchell and Steve Weibe. The roles of hero and villain were delineated so completely that Seth Gordon didn’t even need to meddle with the events through editing. We instantly knew who to root for, and who to hiss. I’d feel sorry for Billy Mitchell after news leaked of booing and hissing during convention screenings, but I don’t think he cares. He’s very successful, after all.
64. Spider-Man 2
Sam Raimi made a great origin film for Spidey, and then built upon that success to deliver a crowd-pleasing action epic, skillfully constructed for maximum emotional impact. For such a hectic film, praise is due to Raimi for making the quiet character revelations as memorable as the incredible setpieces. And when I say incredible setpieces, I’m thinking of the best superhero/supervillain fight yet committed to film:
63. Lantana
Ray Lawrence again, adapting Andrew Bovell’s play about the emotional turmoil affecting a policeman and the people around him. I’m ashamed to admit that my favourite part of this unmissable movie is not the sensitive direction, the thought-provoking screenplay, or the uniformly brilliant performances, but that Anthony LaPaglia’s character is called Leon Zat. What a name.
62. Redbelt
David Mamet’s best work is often about men and their self-aggrandising hostility towards each other. That gruffness is greatly softened here by the casting of Chiwetel Ejiofor as Mike Terry, a man whose reflective stillness and sense of honour sets him apart. Mamet expertly tightens the screws on his hero until he explodes with righteous fury in a finale of enormous emotional power.
61. Lost in Translation
After the inevitable backlash against Sofia Coppola’s semi-autobiographical tale of connection in a strange land, it’s easy to forget everything that made it work so well. It occupies a kind of netherworld between comedy and tragedy, reality and movie exaggeration, at once dreamlike and bluntly mundane. And oh my, that glorious soundtrack…
Ah, that worked out a lot better. WordPress worked fine. It was just Microsoft and their insistent Windows updates that nearly ruined it all. More tomorrow…
The Top One Hundred and Six Movies of the Oughts (90-76)
As I said in my previous post, this list has been kinda rushed, due to initial reservations about the project. This has meant that I’ve missed some great movies off, and now that I’m committed to doing the list, these movies have to remain excluded so that I don’t invalidate the previous part of the list. Oh, it’s all so confusing! I shall endeavour to cover those missed movies as I go along.
Actually, my decision to leave off Hideo Nakata’s Ringu and Gore Verbinski’s US remake The Ring is because I can never decide which version is my favourite. I go back and forth on this one a lot. Nakata is better at generating an atmosphere of dread, and was the guy who kickstarted the popularity of the J-Horror genre. Nevertheless, Verbinski’s version is stronger than it has any right to be — partially because Naomi Watts is so good in it — and his interpretation of the dreaded video and the effect it has on its victims is more unsettling. Actually, that’s putting it mildly. The first time you see a victim slumped inside a closet, it’ll put the fear of God into you, it’s so horrifying. Unable to decide which version should be included, I chickened out and didn’t put either in. Terrible cowardice, really. Consider both movies “included”, in a sub-category or in some list-tesseract or something.
Anyway, here are the next 15 films in the list. As before, some of these movies are a little low because I’ve only seen them once and never really got to grips with them the way other people have. As my experience of them is limited I cannot figure out if this is because I don’t like them as much as everyone else or my initial opinion was adversely affected by the chatter surrounding them. In time, they may move up or down, but for now, as this is a snapshot of my opinion now, this is where they stay. Again, there are no movies from 2009 on here. I need some distance from them to know if they would qualify. Even the year’s worth of leeway I’ve given myself is not enough. While compiling this list The Dark Knight (my favourite movie of 2009) has jumped up and down the high end of the list several times. I won’t be able to make a firm decision on that for a while. And so, with those caveats, here are numbers 90-76.
90. Spartan
Before co-creating The Unit with Shawn Ryan, David Mamet made this, a clenched fist pretending to be a movie. Val Kilmer is brutally effective as a man doing a job no one wants him to do, spitting Mamet’s truncated, macho dialogue with withering and riveting intensity. A manly, manly movie.
89. South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut
The TV show still cranks out occasional classic episodes (Red Sleigh Down, Cartoon Wars, Imaginationland), but the big screen expansion of Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s satirical universe might still be its finest hour. Brilliantly making fun of censors, prudes, and warmongers, it even manages to give us some of the best showtunes of the decade.
88. Curse of the Golden Flower
Critics seemed baffled by the lack of martial arts action in Zhang Yimou’s courtly drama, but who needs it? There’s enough intrigue, betrayal, madness and riotous colour here to fuel a dozen movies. Just for Gong Li’s incredible performance, this movie demands reappraisal, and that’s before we get to the ninja action and Chow Yun-Fat in Furious-Anger-mode.
87. Syriana
It’s a toss-up between this and Traffic for inclusion on this list. Stephen Gaghan’s complex multi-strand exploration of how our demand for oil affects all our lives does have a weak sub-plot featuring Jeffrey Wright, but that’s better than the ill-judged Michael Douglas thread in Soderbergh’s movie. Both are great, but Syriana – with its thrilling final act – just edges it. (Consider Traffic no. 107.)
86. The Matrix Reloaded
The Wachowski Siblings managed to alienate the majority of their fans by attempting to expand the initial Matrix movie beyond its resonant but uncomplicated monomythic plot. Though the franchise ran out of steam in the third installment, for the length of this hallucinogenic movie it still seemed like they were telling the best story ever told. Plus, you know, Morpheus used a katana.
85. Hot Fuzz
Enormously entertaining on first viewing, Edgar Wright’s pitch-perfect homage to hyper-aggressive US cop movies gets better with every rewatch. The effort put into its intricate plotting is a joy to behold, and the casting could not be more impressive. A Who’s Who of British character actors having the time of their lives = film heaven.
84. Jindabyne
Taking the same starting point as one of the threads from Altman’s Short Cuts (Raymond Carver’s short story So Much Water So Close to Home), Ray Lawrence spins a tale of marital discord and touches on themes of racial and gender politics with a deft hand. Gabriel Byrne and Laura Linney give two of their most complex performances.
83. Once
The most grounded, unspectacular musical ever made, John Carney’s tale of two musicians making music amid the urban isolation of Dublin won the hearts of audiences across the world. Its ambitions were slight, but Hansard and Irglová’s gorgeous music gave Once an emotional heft that dwarfed almost everything else released that year.
82. The Hunted
Before Bourne, there was this William Friedkin-helmed cat-and-mouse actioner, pared down to the bone in much the same way as Walter Hill’s action classics. Tommy Lee Jones and Benicio Del Toro are near-silent killing machines destined to fight to the death, with all other considerations ignored. Easily Friedkin’s best film since The Exorcist.
81. The Orphanage
Conjuring the same atmosphere of impending dread as Robert Wise and Jack Clayton did with classic ghost movies The Haunting and The Innocents, Juan Antonio Bayona’s directorial debut managed to provide chilling scares and heartbreaking tragedy in equal measure.
80. The Constant Gardener
On the surface Fernando Meirelles’ environmental thriller was just another tale of corporate intrigue, but Rachel Weisz’s Oscar-winning performance — and Ralph Fiennes’ superb turn as her bereaved husband — turned it into something more interesting and melancholic: a meditation on how love can ruin a life once the object of adoration has gone.
79. [Rec]
Of all the camcorder horror movies of this decade, perhaps the most successful was Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza’s claustrophobic virus-zombie effort. Though less wide-ranging than Cloverfield, Blair Witch, or the thematically similar 28 Days/Years Later movies, it did one thing better than all of them: it was scary throughout, and utterly terrifying at the end.
78. No Country For Old Men
The Coens hewed so close to their source material that it would have been hard to mess it up, but even so, their direction was exemplary, conjuring up numerous exhausting setpieces and an iconic representation of chaotic evil from Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh. It managed something you would think impossible: improving on the work of Cormac McCarthy.
77. There Will Be Blood
Paul Thomas Anderson deserves plaudits for taking such overwhelming thematic material and boiling it down into a tale of how greed can ruin one man’s soul. What makes Daniel Day Lewis’ work as Daniel Plainview so special is not the pyrotechnics, but the hint that by the end of his life he is so lost that he doesn’t care. It’s as chilling as a horror movie plot.
76. The Darjeeling Limited
A trek across India by three estranged brothers tested the patience of many viewers, either by presenting a view of American obliviousness abroad that lacked necessary satirical pointers, or by relying on too many Andersonian tics. To this viewer, the jokes, the narrative gameplaying, and Robert Yeoman’s gorgeous photography, were enough.
Okay, that was a bit less overwrought. More to come, if WordPress will ever stop crashing. ::grumble grumble::
The Top One Hundred and Six Movies of the Oughts (106-91)
Longtime readers will know that I’m a fiend for lists the way Sonny Crockett is a fiend for mojitos. Don’t believe me? Check out this blurry video:
My Best of 2009 movie list has been percolating for a while now, with only a few contenders for best or worst film to come before I shut things down at the end of December (oh yes, I won’t stop watching until I’m sure I have it right). Meanwhile, even though I’m uncomfortable with the idea of this decade being 1999-2009, I’ve been pondering my own best of the decade list. This should be something to be excited about, and yet until last week I just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for it. When I search my soul I come to the uncomfortable but inescapable conclusion that it’s because any list I would come up with would both be horribly incomplete and would betray my populist taste. What makes me more uncomfortable than that is realising that such an admission makes me uncomfortable at all.
Any list I could make for this decade is already off to a bad start when I admit that I’ve yet to see many of the best reviewed and most beloved movies of recent times. The gaps in my viewing history include Cristian Mungiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Syndromes and a Century, Edward Yang’s Yi Yi, Andrey Zvyagintsev’s The Return, and anything by Wong Kar Wai, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, or the Dardennes. I’ve also only seen a couple of (terrific) movies by Claire Denis and a single, memorable one by Michael Haneke. Some film buff I am. This short list is merely the tip of the iceberg. According to this list, I might as well not consider myself a film lover at all, as I’m not looking for movie excellence in the right places (though the entire list is invalidated by the praise for Woody Allen’s technically disastrous and intellectually vapid Cassandra’s Dream: surely one of the ten worst films of the decade).
All of that shame over my taste is wrapped up in feelings of mortification over class and intellectualism and authenticity and so many other things. I know that none of it is important but the expression of some kind of discernment in my opinion helps to legitimise my amateur film criticism, something I take very seriously even when I talk about things that readers might consider beneath contempt (my defence of Michael Bay, for instance, or my enthusiasm for The Dark Knight). Therefore it scares me to openly admit that I’m a sucker for a well-choreographed action scene with some pretty explosions included. No one wants to admit to enjoying those movies without losing their credibility, so why should I be the one to stick my neck out?
Maybe it’s time to get over those silly fears and say it loud: I’m a fan of populist cinema. Yes, I can appreciate works of cinematic art on many levels, though perhaps I might have greater difficulty expressing that appreciation or placing those works in context with works by other artists. However, when I talk about how much I love Joel Silver movies of the 80s and 90s, or Bruckheimer’s output in the late 90s to the current day, I’m on firmer ground. Perhaps this is why Shades of Caruso concentrates on those movies: it’s safer to talk about the joy I get from seeing a movie by the Wachowski Siblings than it is to attempt to unpick the works of Abbas Kiarostami. Any list I would make for the past decade would skew heavily towards populist movies, partially because most of the movies I’ve seen were major releases by Western writers and directors, but also because these are the movies that speak directly to me.
It was upon staring at that shame, and the shame I feel for having that shame, that I said bollocks to it and compiled this list. I hereby reject that shame, expel it from my soul, and embrace the movies that filled my soul with joy or heart-ache. The construction of this list is helped by the clear cut-off point in my past: 1999 was the year I moved out of my hometown for the second time and headed to London, where I found enough time and opportunity to attend more movies. As a result my enthusiasm increased, until I had no choice but to start a blog to use as a pressure valve for this energy. I’ve seen hundreds of movies in that time, and so I expect this list to be incomplete and filled with egregious misses, plus some movies have been missed off (Pan’s Labyrinth) or put low on the list (No Country For Old Men, There Will Be Blood) because I’ve only seen them once. I’ll need to revisit them with a clear head, free of hype, to do them justice.
One more caveat: I’ve not included films from this year. I know, this seems to make the whole process pointless, but I like to have at least a little gap between seeing a movie and putting it in a list this big. The End-Of-Year lists are made with the proviso that I understand how my opinion will change over time, and watching films right up until Dec 31st means I will be cramming in movies even though my opinion of them has yet to settle. Who knows whether time will be kind to these movies or not. I’ve certainly been surprised with how some movies I initially loved have dropped out of my favour, and others that I enjoyed well enough on first viewing are not breaking into the top fifty. For the record, at least three from my forthcoming 2009 list would definitely qualify for inclusion here, but I don’t want to add them now as the year has yet to finish, and I’m hoping two or three more will qualify. Perhaps when I’ve finished compiling my 2009 lists, I will write an addendum explaining where they would go in this list.
And so, here is the first part of my list of the best 106 movies of the period 1999-2008. Why 106? Because I just couldn’t leave the last six movies off without writing a little bit about them, as I enjoyed them greatly and felt they would never in a million years get any list love otherwise. As this post has already run on, I’ll only list the first 16 here, and the next 90 films will be revealed as the week progresses. Yes yes, there are simpler ways of doing this, but anyone who knows me will understand that when there is an easy way and a hard way to do anything, I will ignore both and then do something completely self-indulgent that makes a mockery of my original goal. Just play along. I’ve kept my explanations for why I love these movies as short as I can. I hope I’ve lauded a secret favourite of yours, dear reader, one that has been snubbed by every critic in the land.
Honorary Bad Movie Inclusion — The Room
It is quite simply the worst movie ever made, but its rewatch value, its quotability, and the fearless depiction of the dreadful inner life of its emotionally immature writer and director make it almost infinitely fascinating. Its inclusion here is no reflection of its quality, but of the hold it has over anyone who watches it. It’s a true curio.
106. Avalon
After leaving a screening of Avalon, my viewing companion commented that there is good boring and bad boring, and this was a perfect example of the former. Starkly beautiful and glacially paced, Mamoru Oshii’s ode to the power of gaming predicts a future where our desire to transcend our mundane world will drive us to abandon it.
105. Kung Fu Hustle
What made me love Stephen Chow’s madcap martial arts comedy wasn’t the expertly choreographed actions scenes, great though they were. Neither was it the broad humour, though I enjoyed that too. The best thing about it was how the wacky tone morphed into effective dramatic energy. At first you laugh at the caricatures, but by the final act you fear for their safety.
104. The Mothman Prophecies
Poorly marketed as a bog-standard X-Files-esque alien abduction flick, this dread-soaked thriller is more interested in dramatising our insignificance in the face of supernatural forces that move us around like game pieces. Strong performances and meticulous direction from Mark Pellington help to ground the potentially silly project.
103. Moulin Rouge
At his worst, Baz Luhrmann is a vulgar artiste who has zero impulse control, but when his approach works, it can wrench your heart open. This fearlessly sincere musical is the most successful example of the Luhrman effect. Though many have resisted its garish onslaught, my cynicism melted twenty minutes in and stayed that way.
102. The Rundown (aka Welcome To The Jungle)
What should have been the gateway drug to the paradise that is Loving The Rock instead faltered at the box office, but who cares? For its sheer exuberance and demented asides — not to mention a totally hatstand performance by Christopher Walken — this Midnight Sprint shall be remembered and adored.
101. Solaris
Though Steven Soderbergh’s adaptation of Stanislav Lem’s SF classic fails to capture the essence of that novel (as does the previous version by Andrei Tarkovsky), the result explores equally interesting philosophical questions. Clooney excels as a bereaved astronaut forced to confront living memories of his dead wife, a celestial manifestation distorted by his yearning and twisted perceptions of reality.
100. Mushishi
Katsuhiro Otomo’s live-action adaptation of Yuki Urushibara’s manga is a curious beast. Though overlong, the tale of Mushi master Ginko’s journey through a polluted and hostile pastoral land is a feast for the eyes. The gloomy atmospherics and cascade of ideas more than make up for any flaws.
99. Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
Kevin Smith’s low-budget comedies often fail to fly thanks to their self-imposed parochial restrictions. His ambitious and controversial religious satire Dogma was an improvement upon those early movies but this self-lacerating road-movie was the one that really worked, and well enough to finally make me appreciate his scatological shtick.
98. I Heart Huckabees
It achieved an awful notoriety as the movie where director David O. Russell lost his mind on set and bollocked Lily Tomlin, but I Heart Huckabees was also a disorienting blend of philosophy and Dada-esque nonsense, often incomprehensible but almost always entertaining. However, unlike many chaotic cult movies (ahem, Richard Kelly), this actually made sense if you unfocused your brain while watching.
97. Shanghai Knights
Shanghai Noon was fun, and the pairing of Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson was more successful than the tiresome team-up of Chan and Chris Tucker in the Rush Hour movies. The London-set sequel was a massive improvement, mostly because helmer David Dobkin was the only US director who seemed willing to spend time with Chan to create fights almost as complex and funny as his classic Hong Kong work.
96. Michael Clayton
Clooney again in full force, this time as a corporate fixer who gets messed around once too often. What could have been a rote corporate thriller instead becomes a fascinating character study, one where terrible decisions are made in good faith, and good decisions happen for the wrong reasons. It also propelled Tilda Swinton into stardom: for this I am eternally grateful.
95. Mulholland Drive
Is it poor form to admit that upon first viewing I didn’t understand anything about David Lynch’s tinsel-town nightmare? All that I knew was that the final scene was almost unwatchably terrifying. Days later, the mood of dread still lingered. That residual horror — and Naomi Watts’ excellent star-making performance — is enough to justify inclusion on this list.
94. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
Easy to forget how big an impact this movie had on first release. Even though the final installment of the trilogy ripped all of the fun from the franchise, the first is still a near-perfect swashbuckler. The first appearance of Captain Jack Sparrow is a contender for Best Entrance of the Decade.
93. The Prestige
Initially the blatantly obvious “twist” at the end of Christopher Nolan’s adaptation soured an experience that had been extremely pleasurable. Upon repeated viewings, it becomes apparent that the Transported Man trick is not the point of the movie. Instead, Nolan is more interested in painting a picture of a man driven to unthinkable acts because of his thirst for revenge. Compared to dreadful fallout of that psychological damage, magic is nothing.
92. The Chronicles of Riddick
Many choose to focus on the flaws and hubris of David Twohy’s Space-Conan-meets-Lord-of-the-Rings hybrid, but that occasionally inspired vision – and that amazing twist ending — are enough to justify the entire ambitious, galaxy-hopping project. Another film where the cult grows every year, with the prospect of a continuation of the saga now tantalisingly close.
91. eXistenZ
Arriving between the reality-warping brain food of Alex Proyas’ Dark City and The Wachowski’s Matrix, Cronenberg’s only self-scripted film of the decade was greeted with an initial burst of excitement and then seemed to be forgotten. A shame. It’s his most playful movie since Naked Lunch, skipping gleefully between levels of reality and throwing in traditionally unpleasant body horror with abandon.
Okay, that’s enough for now. Keep checking back to see more updates as the week progresses.
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Shades of Caruso Mini-Blog- Listmania ’11! The Best Movies Of The Year December 31, 2011
