Films of the Decade - Part VIII

Animation takes center stage in this round of nominees for the best films of the decade.

To get up to speed: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, and Part VII.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Spirited Away – Hayao Miyazaki
2001, Japan

I’m not certain Miyazaki meant for his bizarre and often grotesque ‘otherworld’ that his 10 year-old protagonist stumbles into, to be a direct metaphor for suburbia and its uniquely violent impact on the human soul…but, hey, if the shoe fits.

Should Miyazaki choose to make another film (there’s no news of an upcoming release at this time), he will have been making ground-breaking animation for five decades now and counting.

For many, Spirited Away is considered his masterpiece. A standard wrong-turn-down-a-dark-street storyline becomes rife with originality in Miyazaki’s hands.



The Triplets of Belleville – Sylvain Chomet
2003, France, Belgium, Canada, UK

The all too rare animated period piece, The Triplets of Belleville feels as though it was cut from cinema’s early years: say, if Preston Sturges and Sacha Guitry joined forces, sneaking past the guards at Walt Disney Studios, to try their hand at animation.



When a bicyclist who has trained his whole life for the Tour de France, is kidnapped during the race, and transported overseas for nefarious purposes, it is left to his elderly grandmother, her faithful, obese pooch, and a former nightclub act to come to his rescue.

The Incredibles – Brad Bird
2004, USA

A great set-up delivered pitch-perfectly: as superhereos are forced to join the ranks of the average Joe due to constant, mind-numbing litigation, Bob Parr, formerly Mr. Incredible, pines for the action=packed good old days.

When his chance to recapture the past arrives in a cloud of ominous, government dealings, all is not what it seems, and it is only his family who can come to his rescue.



Wall-E – Andrew Stanton
2008, USA

Already considered one of the best animated films of all-time, Wall-E broke with tradition, using limited speaking roles, instead, relying on basic emotions to bring its story to its audience.

With earth long since inhabitable, Wall-E trolls its wastelands, collecting trash, until one day falls for a mysterious, female robot (this is Pixar, boy-on-boy robotic love is still light years away).

What follows is an intergalactic voyage to find love, and reclaim earth while they're at it.



Waltz with Bashir – Ari Folman
2008, Israel, Germany, France, USA, Finland, Switzerland, Belgium, Australia

How does one tell the horrifying truths of the Lebanon War to a movie-going audience so desensitized by violence, shockingly real or ridiculously fake? Answer: animate it.

After being sought out as comfort by a friend with a recurring nightmare, Ari, a film director, is surprised to realize he cannot recall any memories from his time spent in the Army during those fateful days of the early 1980s, save one.

In the hopes of finding out what his vision means, he begins a quest, looking up old friends and comrades to piece together what happened to them all: the survivors, as well as the victims.

Films of the Decade - Part VII

Another round of nominees for the best films of the first decade of the 21st Century lines up some heavy hitters, including the Coen brothers, Spain’s most successful filmmaker of all-time, Pedro Almodóvar, as well as Taiwanese cinematic luminary Hsiao-hsien Hou.

To get up to speed: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V and Part VI.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Ghost World – Terry Zwigoff
2001, USA, UK, Germany



Straight from the no-one-understands-me department, Ghost World is Terry Zwigoff’s follow-up, and first narrative, to his fabulous documentary, Crumb.

Enid and Rebecca are recent high-school grads displeased greatly by everything and everyone around them. Upon meeting a lonely, middle-aged record collector, the girls decide to play a prank that will lead Enid to an unlikely bond.

A true gem in its understanding of our collective psyche, as well as the motivations we all feel, and actions undertaken, at our most awkward moments.

Millennium Mambo – Hsiao-hsien Hou
2001, Taiwan, France

Millennium Mambo strikes that familiar, aimless chord most have felt: that twenty-something existence driven by boredom and cheap thrills, where everything smacks of completely misguided effort.

Collaborators since early in their careers, director Hsiao-hsien Hou, and writer T'ien-wen Chu, have etched out a particular place for themselves in the history of cinema. From biographical content, to the influx of Western ideals, the two have created a unique film canon together, one entirely personal that feels true and familiar regardless of where its being viewed from around the world.



The Man Who Wasn’t There – Joel & Ethan Coen
2001, UK, USA

The first Coen brothers picture to grace the list of nominees (though not the last, I’m sure), The Man Who Wasn’t There was a critical darling when it first appeared in 2001, though it is rarely mentioned by movie fans and Coen-devotees alike in a discussion of the Minnesotans’ better films.

Billy Bob Thornton plays Ed Crane, a barber waiting on the sidelines of life for an opportunity. When that opportunity presents itself in the form of a new invention called “dry cleaning”, Ed blackmails his wife’s boss, of whom he suspects of sleeping with the missus, in hopes of investing and moving from his suburban humdrum, onto easy street.



Lush black-and-white photography by Roger Deakins highlights the film’s bleak, noir quality.

Volver – Pedro Almodóvar
2006, Spain

As with the best of Almodóvar, Volver is darkly comic and beautifully stylized, even when dealing with the rougher elements of society and its inhabitants. Penelope Cruz stars as a mother who finds herself having to dispose of her husband’s dead body, killed by her own daughter, in a neighboring restaurant’s freezer, while opening the restaurant up for service to a film crew shooting in the area (this is one of the more straight forward plot lines in the film).



Pan’s Labyrinth – Guillermo del Toro
2006, Spain, Mexico, USA

A film that has literally everything, Pan’s Labyrinth won three Academy Awards, while racking up legions of fans for its visionary take on a historical, much-covered period.



A true fairy tale, the film follows a young girl forced to live with her mother’s wretched new husband, a captain in the Spanish Army, who escapes into fantasy the first chance she gets.

A parable of Spain during the fascist Franco years, Pan’s Labyrinth deals with the horrific reality the only way we can often understand, through the eyes of a helpless child.

Films of the Decade - Part VI

Gus van Sant and Charlie Kaufman make second appearances as the quest for the best films of the decade continues.

To get up to speed: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Gerry – Gus van Sant
2002, USA

Two guys named Gerry wander out into the desert in search of “the thing”, only to abandon the trek midway through unaware that they are lost and without food, water, or any sign of civilization.

The second Gus van Sant film nominated in this quest, Gerry speaks to the seismic power of isolation.



Yi yi – Edward Yang
2000, Taiwan, Japan

The opening sequence of this epic, multi-layered, multi-generational Taiwanese fable resurrected a familiar movie-going experience of watching a First Act wedding sequence from decades past: that of The Godfather. The films, naturally, plot much different courses, but that distinct feeling that we are witnessing something special hit a similar note in both opening sequences.

Yi yi was the earliest candidate I can remember for film of the decade when it was released in the first year of the aughts (though Memento had a similar vibe surrounding it).

If ever a film felt like a doctoral thesis in sociological psychology here it is (Can’t wait to see it now I bet!). The film follows the adventures and misadventures of one Taipei family as they struggle to understand their place in a modern world, and to discover some kind of meaning from it.



Adaptation – Spike Jonze
2002, USA

Oh Charlie Kaufman, to be you for a day, and experience the unbelievable chagrin juxtaposed with sublime creative genius that battle tooth and nail for supremacy within the confines of your mighty noggin.

Adaptation, his second collaboration with Spike Jonze, places Charlie Kaufman, the writer, on screen in front of us, as we painstakingly observe the author’s creative process as he attempts to translate a Susan Orlean novel about rare orchids to the screen.

Nicholas Cage plays the dual role of Kaufman, as well as his light-hearted, roll-with-the-punches brother Donald, who seems to be able to slam through screenplays with a veracity equivalent to Charlie’s writer's block.



L’enfant – Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne
2005, Belgium, France

Since the mid-90s the Dardenne brothers have been quietly notching up awards and cementing a legacy for themselves as two of Europe’s premiere filmmakers.

L’enfant equals the very best of their output. When Sonia brings home her newborn baby, Bruno, her albatross of a boyfriend, sees an opportunity for quick cash, and a lot of it. He sells the baby on the black market without her consent or knowledge. When Sonia reports the theft, Bruno must recover the baby, and replace the 5000 euros he received for the transaction.

L’enfant matches the time-tested formula of a race against the clock with the best stuff of European cinema: gritty realism and first-rate performances from actors who seem more like real people walking across the screen for the first and only time. Their 15-minutes of fame being the excruciating journey of loss and redemption the majority of us only envision in our worst nightmares.



The Royal Tenenbaums – Wes Anderson
2001, USA

In an all too rare comic turn, Gene Hackman shines as patriarch Royal Tenenbaum, a man who has ostracized anyone who was once even remotely close to him. In an attempt to rekindle the familial love of the past, Royal feigns an illness in the hopes of reuniting his unusual, disenfranchised and fractured clan.

A great example of the magic possessed when a great script is paired perfectly with the absolute ideal cast.

Films of the Decade - Part V

In Round 5 of our quest to narrow down the best films of the decade, we straddle the generations with offerings from directors who made their mark on the world cinema stage in the 1950s, 60s, 70s, 80s, and aughts respectively.

To get up to speed: Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Saraband – Ingmar Bergman
2003, Sweden, Italy, Germany, Denmark, Austria

A last glorious gasp from the man who first made the artistic community sit up and take notice of film as a true and serious art form.

Saraband is not The Seventh Seal, or Wild Strawberries, no. However, it is Bergman working within his familiar psychological terrain, a terrain that he has owned since the 50s. Like him or not, no one can accuse Bergman of not finishing what he started.

Thirty years removed from one another, Marianne and Johan (protagonists of Bergman’s 1973 film Scenes from a Marriage) reunite due to a longing Marianne has to see her former husband once again. However, soon Marianne finds herself entangled in the middle of a family struggle between Johan, his son Henrik, and granddaughter Karin.



What gives the film its power is what has always given Bergman's films power: that being, the truth. The truth behind family dynamics, behind power struggles, the truth behind the façade we often present outward and the emotions we cling to inside. Emotions that paralyze us with fear that they may one day seep out. Bergman’s genius was to understand that they always do, one way or another. And to face them head on, at the very least, provides an opportunity for change.

The Duchess of Langeais– Jacques Rivette
2007, France, Italy

No one quite plays with cinematic form the way the French do, and within that crass generalization, the auteurs of the 1960s took this dictum to new heights.

Rivette’s beautiful film The Duchess of Langeais continues this French cinematic pastime of never resting on one’s laurels. A romantic battle of wits, a chance encounter becomes the jumping off point for a supremely visceral, ultimately doomed courtship.



The Departed – Martin Scorsese
2006, USA, Hong Kong

So it’s a remake. Who cares that one of the crucial plot points is lifted directly from a Edward Dmytryk, hard-boiled noir of the 40s called Crossfire? It’s still Scorsese.

The film that finally landed Scorsese his long overdue Academy Award, pits Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio against one another as undercover moles, one working for the police, the other for the mob, in a cat and mouse crime thriller that marks Scorsese’s most purely entertaining fare since Cape Fear.

Oh, and Jack Nicholson’s the heavy.



Mulholland Drive – David Lynch
2001, France, USA

Much like Lars von Trier from last week’s entry, Lynch has the uncanny ability to polarize audiences when it comes to his work. Wherever you fall on that particular divide, what is undeniable is Lynch's calling behind a film camera.

To further that point, take a look at Lynch's segment for Lumière and Company (his 1-minute contribution should make the other participants ashamed of themselves).

Mulholland Drive is so full of twists and turns it takes repeated viewings to get your bearings.

Attempting a coherent plot breakdown would be futile as most viewers see a different film, accompanied by their own interpretation. A dizzying display blurring the line between the dream state and reality only the way David Lynch can.



4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days – Cristian Mungiu
2007, Romania

The most honored film of 2007 sees a young woman assist her friend carry out an abortion in 1980s Romania.



The film thrives in its performances, all of which feel completely real, and totally on-point. Equally, what makes the film feel special is how firmly it draws the line from becoming a “message” or “political” picture. Like the best of neo-realism, 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days relies on the sincerity of its performances, and the mundane of the everyday, no matter what that everyday may look like, to captivate and carry us along.

Best Films of the Decade - Part IV

A series of heavy favorites this week in our quest for the best films of the decade.

To get up to speed, click here to view the candidates from Part I, here for Part II, and here for Part III.

As always, comments are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Irréversible – Gaspar Noé
2002, France

The most walked out of film of the decade is also one of its best. Irréversible is everything it promised to be: shocking, unsettling, brutal, and uncompromising.

Yet, what Noé created was far from pageantry, as is often the case with “shocking” films. As the series of horrific events unfold backwards, and the relationships of the three protagonists are detailed, what we are left with is an understanding of how close we all are, to not only the unchecked savagery inside of us, but also the commitment we all possess to love.



Songs from the Second Floor – Roy Andersson
2000, Sweden, Norway, Denmark

It really is a shame that Andersson has taken a Kubrick-esque approach to filmmaking, gracing us with so few.

Songs from the Second Floor feels very much like an essay about life, albeit told as a Zombie burlesque show. As the city outside is plagued by the worst traffic jam in history, a series of loosely connected stories unfold, revealing a portrait of society as it often is: absurd, cruel, and funny in both the uncomfortable ha-ha-glad-that’s-not-me way, as well as the gut-busting ridiculous variety.



Dogville – Lars von Trier
2003, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, UK, France, Germany, Netherlands

And then there’s Lars…

It says something when SEVEN different nations are involved in the creation, production, and ultimate completion of a film project. It either says: this is a work of the utmost genius that the thought of not being connected to the finished product was unbearable amongst global film boards, associations, and funding agencies. Or…it reeks of the professional athlete, long on talent but difficult beyond comprehension, that no one wants to put up with, shipping them off in the dark of night, left to ponder what could have been, and how you were ever seduced into the deal in the first place.

The fact that the theatrical staging of the film doesn’t deflect from the action and characters onscreen is remarkable in and of itself. Nicole Kidman delivers her best performance as a woman who mysteriously enters the claustrophobic confines of a small town and finds its charms, security, and sense of community come with a hefty price.



In the Mood for Love – Wong Kar Wai
2000, Hong Kong, France

In a canon of great films, In the Mood for Love is largely considered to be Wong Kar Wai’s best.

The story of neighbors who form a bond, leading them to the discovery of their spouses’ infidelities is certainly the most romantic film of the decade.

Not wanting to emulate their spouses, the two nevertheless fall in love but stay true to their pact, choosing life in isolation over union together.



Memento – Christopher Nolan
2000, USA

Much as Pulp Fiction had done for Tarantino the decade before, Memento marked the beginnings of a passionate, sometimes fanatical following for its director, Christopher Nolan.

Like so many classics, upon reflection the plot seems as though some filmmaker should have thought of it and committed it to film decades ago. A man suffering from short-term memory loss scribbles notes, even tattooing himself in the hopes of tracing the murderer of his wife.

Playing with chronology, cross-cutting, and film stocks, Nolan makes the viewer feel much like his lead character, disoriented and confused as the tangled web of truths and lies unravels before us.

Films of the Decade - Part III

As I began this quest to narrow down the best films of the decade, I proclaimed there would be no rhyme or reason to the films selected each week – only to find distinct themes and parallels surfacing each successive time out between the movies I was selecting as candidates. Rather than hang tight to that sorry proclamation, I have decided to do an about-face this week, facing my hypocrisy head-on by entitling this week’s entries: Battle of the Two-word Titles.

To get up to speed, click here to view the candidates from Part I, and here for Part II.

As always, comments are welcomed as the quest progresses, and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Paranoid Park – Gus Van Sant
2007, France, USA

Paranoid Park belongs in the long lineage of great, rough independent films, surviving on an interesting story, focused direction and a cast of unknowns to bring it supreme authenticity. Like The Gospel According to St. Matthew, or another of this week’s offerings, George Washington, the strength of these films lies not only in their story, but in the challenge of observing a “real person” struggle scene by scene towards an awkward, sometimes unsettling conclusion.

Gus Van Sant returns to Portland to bring us this tale of skateboarder Alex, who provides the picture perfect visual to the dictionary definition of ‘being at the wrong place at the wrong time’. Caught up in a grizzly murder, the real power of this film for me lies in watching Alex stagger his way through the day-to-day tribulations of being a teenager, despite the circumstances surrounding him.



Silent Light – Carlos Reygadas
2007, Mexico, France, Netherlands, Germany

For better or for worse, and in 99% of cases I imagine it is for the latter, films that hold any semblance of artistic merit are going to be compared to masterworks from previous generations. When Silent Light began making the festival rounds, comparisons to the great Andrei Tarkovsky quickly hounded it.

Finding and holding an audience is usually tough enough for films not cut from the blockbuster cloth, but then comparing Reygadas’s film to those of Tarkovsky provides it even less of a fair shake. Mainstream audiences will steer clear, that’s a given, but now cinema buffs will also go in with an agenda, an even more critical eye.

The story centers around Johan, a family man whose entire value system is tenuously put to the test upon falling in love with another woman. The slow, methodical pacing of the film mirrors the difficult feeling one has when having to make a life-altering and potentially painful decision. It is in these moments that life almost stands still, often long enough for us to avoid making decisions altogether, and be swept along by its tides.

My Winnipeg – Guy Maddin
2007, Canada

Guy Maddin is painfully under appreciated, even here in Canada where he lives and works. Although, thanks to the Criterion Collection, he is experience some long overdue props due to the re-release of a few of his films.

Maddin belongs to that special brand of filmmaker who continually churns out honest, original material each and every time out, albeit with the same distinct look and feel that makes it distinguishably a Guy Maddin picture.

My Winnipeg is genre-proof in the sense that each viewer (and possibly each successive viewing by the same viewer) will see a different film. Maddin traipses through his memories and recollections to recreate not only his own coming of age, but that of his city: Winnipeg.



Death Proof – Quentin Tarantino
2007, USA

Yes, the Tarantino faithful can be overwhelming at times, even fanatical, in their defense of Q and his homage-style filmmaking. To far too many movie buffs, the man can do no wrong. This kind of blind cheerleading is dangerous in any field, artistic or otherwise (read up on last year’s US financial crisis for proof).

Yet undeniably, Tarantino lives and breathes commercial entertainment, and more often than not he delivers what he promises: often in droves, and using multiple camera set-ups.

Death Proof should have opened with a banner reading: Cinema Savant At Play. It’s fun, it’s trashy, it’s Kurt Russell getting his comeuppance, it’s like The Dukes of Hazzard meets the Scream franchise – but to be fair, it’s better than both.



George Washington – David Gordon Green
2000, USA

George Washington is a debut feature deserving of the praise heaped upon it when released. It’s beautifully shot, wonderfully performed, and refrains from taking on too much story.

After a group of kids are involved in the accidental death of a friend, George, the quiet, contemplative “leader” of the group risks his own health to save another boy from drowning, and in the process takes the mantle of local hero to new heights in the attempt to hide from his own guilt, and ostracize himself from his surroundings.

Films of the Decade - Part II

In the first installment in our quest for the best films of the decade (click here for Part I), we spanned the globe from New York City to the Middle East, to pre-World War I English countryside, to present-day Paris, with Clive Owen and Julia Roberts globetrotting to most points between…including Cleveland.

This week, our attentions shift mostly away from the English language to a range of films exploring many of the more common themes found throughout the history of cinema, yet abrasively defying conventional cinematic narrative structure.

As always, comments are encouraged and will be taken into consideration upon tallying the results.

Tropical Malady - Apichatpong Weerasethakul
2004, Thailand, France, Germany, Italy

For those of us who have braved the humbling waters standing behind a movie camera know the feeling all too well when faced with a viewing experience such as that of Tropical Malady. I imagine it must be what countless opponents have felt staring across the net at Roger Federer the last several tennis seasons: Dude’s just got too much game.

Watching Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s soulful fourth feature left me with the feeling of having witnessed something special – in cinematic terms. The film revolves around the attraction and gentle courtship between a soldier and a farm boy as they while away their time together before we are suddenly, and abruptly, transported to the second part of the film where the soldier now stalks an elusive and dangerous tiger through the dense forest.

Like the best cinema, Tropical Malady can be viewed many different ways with many different contexts. I witnessed the same tale retold twice, once in the first part, and again in the second. The best film about desire, human desire, this decade.

An Amazing Couple – Lucas Belvaux
2002, France, Belgium

When trilogies are made, or attempted may be a better word, the middle, funny one is normally seen as filler, by viewers and critics alike (although oddly, it is usually the most enjoyable). Think Three Colors for a fairly recent example. When Lucas Belvaux released his trilogy in the early aughts, something happened…while all three films are exactingly made to suit their respective genre, it was the funny one, An Amazing Couple, that stood out to most upon initial release.

Middle-aged Alain (played to neurotic perfection by François Morel), has to go in for a routine operation. Convinced this will mark the end of his life, he slowly begins to crack, allowing psychosomatic symptoms to overtake his daily life. Confused by his erratic behavior, his wife begins to suspect he is having an affair, and seeks the help of a friend’s cop-hubby to trail him. Simple enough, only Alain, discovering the police officer lurking around, begins to suspect his wife of the same infidelity.

A comedy of errors is a hard trick to pull off, particularly when it is sandwiched between two heavier films that exchange characters and scenes (the supporting players in one of the trilogy become the leads in the next, and vice versa). An Amazing Couple feels like a Germi film from the 60s, and like those films it holds its absurdities to the same high cinematic standard we have come to expect from our dramas. Complete commitment becomes the order of the day.

Gomorrah - Matteo Garrone
2008, Italy

Italy has a long tradition with gritty realism. In that vein comes last year’s 2nd place finisher at Cannes: Gomorrah, an in-depth look at the crime families of Naples and the surrounding region.

Told through interwoven stories, Gomarrah’s appeal is its authenticity (Director Matteo Garrone apparently spent time with real mob families in preparation). Like Rome: Open City, and Umberto D before it, Gomorrah finds its subject matter in the streets rather than the studio back lot; this time, with the horrifying conclusion of how intertwined the mafia is in every aspect of southern Italian life.

Kings & Queen – Arnaud Desplechin
2004, France

Two of France’s best actors, Emmanuelle Devos and Mathieu Amalric, take Arnaud Desplechin’s awkward, and very long, film from the deluge of countless 21st Century cinema psycho-babbles’ to the edges of endearing and hopeful.

The sometimes intertwining, but separate stories of Nora and Ismaël, former lovers who face very different life altering events that lead them back to one another after years apart, do something most avoid: face emotion head-on. I can’t recall a film that used jump cuts despite its actors onscreen suffering (most films use jump cuts due to the under-performance of its talent).

Worth a look for nothing else if only the advise Ismaël imparts to Nora’s young son Elias in the last scene, which contains truths most of us won’t face up to our entire lives.

Synecdoche, New York – Charlie Kaufman
2008, USA

I began this week’s entry by stating that most of films listed would be foreign (i.e. not of the English language), and though Synecdoche, New York is entirely American in production, to many it felt as though subtitles were needed to understand what was going on.

In truth, I would have found them useful as well, however, I am a sucker for the audacious (the reason I like von Trier as well), and they don’t get more audacious than a defeated theatre director using grant money to recreate his entire New York-centric universe in a never-ending cavernous warehouse, involving hundreds of cast and crew, in the selfish and often pretentious attempt to understand life, love and existence.

Kaufman’s debut has all the elements his earlier films had, minus the direction from an outside source to veer, or channel, his philosophy into cinematic vision. Normally a detriment, however in this instance, I feel this film is better off for it. A film with this premise requires Kaufman unedited as we observe Philip Seymour Hoffman’s painstaking evolution from A to Z with stops at all the numbers somehow stuck randomly in between the letters.