The Library of Babel

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may, Weird Al

Though frowned upon in socially adjusted circles, Weird Al has never been less than an endearing presence in my itunes library, a reminder of a time before I stumbled upon the wide world of popular music. Many artists, in fact, I directly owe my introduction to the eternal Mr. Yankovic, and so it was no surprise that I was mildly anticipating his latest album, first in five years, Alpocalypse. The album, well, it was ok. "Perform This Way" neatly skewers the worst Gaga song to date, though even that was hardly a highlight. "Party in the CIA" fares much better and gets a few laughs in the process, and there's better still (as you will see, oh so shortly). But mostly I'd count this as minor Al, a far cry from his highs in 80s, or even the all-around solid Running With Scissors.

But as an Al-fanatic, loyal enough to share a few words, though not enough to muster a full-on review, I thought instead I could muster up a list. A list, of course, of my favorite Weird Al tunes to date, parodies, inspirations and originals alike, and accompanied where possible with video links. A top 10 seemed too little, a top 25 too arbitrary, so I settled on 15, though feel free to refer to the bottom five as honorable mentions. Nope, fuck that, there can only be one honorable mention on a list of Weird Al songs; the one I'd secretly love to mention but can't bring myself to speak of, "Albuquerque."

So, starting at number 15, Tristan's top 15 Weird Al events.

15. Bob (Poodle Hat)

A brilliant send of of Bob Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues" sung entirely in palindromes. Kind of genius, actually.

14. Headline News (released as single)

Some of his most morbid lyrics, but they're put to excellent use considering the subject matter. It may seem dated, but it still gets laughs, and is infinitely more interesting than the song it's parodying.

13. Skipper Dan (Alpocalypse)

Spot on, Al, spot on. This one is funny, but no less is it depressing, at least for the many creative souls out there toiling away under the harsh realities of the real world. And also, totally the highlight of his most recent release. The guy's still got it.

12. Dog Eat Dog (Polka Party)

Less well loved are Al's many style parodies, the ones that don't tackle one song in particular, but instead ape a band's entire style. Most successful are the ones that latch onto bands with a sound entirely their own, and there's no mistaking "Dog Eat Dog" for anything other than Talking Heads. His cries of "this is not my beautiful stapler!" have me in stitches every time.

11. Jurassic Park (Alapalooza)

Ha! "MacArthur Park" is such a bizarre song in its own right (and pretty obscure too unless I'm mistaken), but Al totally gets this right. It's one of the best of his many movie parodies, and major points for the unconventional choice in source material.

10. Why Does This Always Happen To Me (Poodle Hat)

Yet another from no one in particular, though Ben Folds is backing up Al on piano and that's surely only adding to the fun. And man, those lyrics, they're easily some of the bleakest, funniest the guy has ever concocted.

9. I Think I'm A Clone Now (Even Worse)

This one's almost too easy, isn't it? Al takes disposable pop fluff and amplifies the disposable ten-fold. And somehow, it amazes me. I don't particularly love the original, though I suppose it's a bit of a guilty pleasure, but this makes it seem all the most frivolous, and I have a soft spot for frivolous things.

8. The Night Santa Went Crazy (Bad Hair Day)

Certainly my favorite Al song as a child. "Bad Hair Day" was the album that first fell into my hands all those years ago, and while I don't actually think it's as strong on the whole as many of his others, there were some crazy highlights and this was one of 'em. It's so gloriously violent, and was exactly what second grade Tristan wanted to rock out to. And still, I can't help but be amused.

7. Everything You Know Is Wrong (Bad Hair Day)

And let's stick with "Bad Hair Day" for a while longer, because like I said, it had some crazy highs to it. This one's an original, done ostensibly in the style of They Might Be Giants (certainly kin to Al in many ways already) but it also seems so quintessentially Al to me. It's wacky and breathless and a total blast, with lyrics that are more amusing than laugh out loud hilarious. Always been a favorite.

6. Money For Nothing/Beverly Hillbillies (UHF Soundtrack)

My obligatory nod to UHF, but it's a damn fine parody even aside from that association. One of Al's most polished pieces to date, though it helps that the original song is killer too. I've been trying to just these songs aside from the merits of their music videos (or "Fat" would surely have placed) but this one is just oozing with 80s nostalgic goodness.

5. Smells Like Nirvana (Off The Deep End)

Another perfect music video, but even better is Al's take on Nirvana's most beloved song. One of the rare examples of the parody directly referring to the source material itself, and it works so well of course because of how iconic this one was instantly. But that only makes this funnier, no? I mean, I'm always giving Nirvana a hard time, and this even makes me smile. A pitch perfect send up of the song of a generation.

4. The Saga Begins (Running With Scissors)

The movie isn't even very good, and I'm no great fan of Star Wars in general, but that's how sure I am that this is one of Weird Al's finest hours. It's fittingly epic, and more than just a rehash of the plot, it works in some genuine laughs, many by the sheer amusement of seeing Al tackle Don Mclean.

3. Like a Surgeon (Dare To Be Stupid)

And at last we get deep into some classic 80s Al, which on the whole is so much stronger than his recent stuff, even if the true classics seem fairly evenly dispersed across his career. Anyway, this one holds a special spot in my heat, because at my 6th grade Junior High All-Night Lock In, I stood up in front of everyone an did karaoke to this gem. And though it went over well, I haven't returned to the stage sense.

2. Nature Trail To Hell (Weird Al in 3D)

Although this marks the first and only appearance of Weird Al in 3D on this list, I maintain that on the whole, it's Al's strongest album of all. It ends on this glorious note, an Al original that is epic, intense and hilarious, and anything, anything but lazy. The backwards vocals are a nice touch, though I actually like the darkly comic odyssey just fine as it is. Did I say like it? I mean love on some weird, socially inappropriate level. Love it like I love Starship Troopers, or maybe Ernest Goes to Jail.

1. Amish Paradise (Bad Hair Day)

Could it have been anything else? Coolio, quite frankly, can suck it, though I do see where his hatin' was coming from, considering how this is ten thousand times better than his beloved original. Clever concept, fantastic production, and spot on delivery make for what may be perhaps the definitive parody song ever, and surely Al's finest hour. It was the first song of his I ever laid ears on, and I've yet to hear him top it.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Terrence Malick's Party at the Dawn of the Universe

Terrence Malick's Tree of Life is going to either enthrall or infuriate you, and for the sake of laying all my cards on the table, I'll say I fall into column B. The divided reaction has been par for course since the Cannes premier, and in retrospect it should come as a shock to no one, since Malick's films have hardly played to the widest demographic. And yet it never occurred to me that my reaction would be anything short of awe, which could be on account of the hype, but I think more likely is because his last film, The New World, I'd proudly count among my 50-or-so favorite films of all time. Nevermind that of his other three films, I only love Badlands, I was blindly certain that Malick wouldn't let me down.

Thing is, I'm hardly bitter about it. Frustrated expectations don't equate to poor cinema, not in my book, and hopefully not in yours either. Tree of Life was somehow everything I thought it would be, and yet not at all how I thought it would feel. My opening pronouncement wasn't a pan so much as an attempt to chisel away at the wall of hype surrounding the film (an example of such excesses: Landmark Century was showing the film on four screens, mid-afternoon). Of course, considering the scope of the film, from 1950s family tragedy back to the dinosaurs and out to the cosmos, hype was unavoidable, and let's not forget that at the helm sat the most mythically reclusive of directors. Terrence Malick's fifth feature film in nearly forty years, Tree of Life is both his most ambitious and most personal, which oddly may be the very two things keeping me at a distance.

Ambition works in funny ways. It's something I'd never want to curtail, and I'd rather watch an over-zealous misfire than something safe and lazy any day, but it can get to a point when there's just too damn much on the plate. It's unfair to measure this simply through the amount of existing footage, but a correlation often exists there, and it only amplifies as things drift further and further away from linear narratives. Somehow knowing scenes of a film are infinitely re-arrangeable takes away from the experience for me, not unlike the disappointment of grappling with various directors cuts and alternate versions of films. That's not to say great successes can't emerge in this fashion, but Tree of Life never quite justifies its prehistoric tangents and other flights of fancy. Makes for some breathtaking imagery though.

The deeply personal story at the film's core has more substance to it, though how resonant that will be probably hinges largely on your own upbringing. Aside from the common ground of growing up with two brothers, very little here felt familiar to me, and I'd like to think that was why it never struck a chord. For better or for worse, Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain are more embodiments of ideas than actual characters - to no fault of the actors, who are marvelous - because as the narration spells out all to clearly for us, they symbolize the way of nature and the way of grace respectively. It's a dynamic that actually comes through magnificently with little help from dialogue whatsoever, save for the largely unnecessary voice-over, but again, it makes everything exceedingly hard to map onto most familial relationships, which are just a shade more complex.

But caveats aside, Tree of Life was still a very fine film, and that it's so obviously a labor of love isn't lost on me. That's why when carefully considering what films, if any, this may have a counterpart in, I arrived at one and one alone, made of another mythic director of minimal output: Andrei Tarkovsky's Mirror. Both are unabashedly personal journeys that we the viewer are asked to come along on, and while I get the sense that Malick, like Tarkovsky, got more out of his film than I did, it was still an expedition I was proud to come along on. And with that, I hope I've found a way to sufficiently swing this review into the positive camp, because I really did like The Tree of Life, however miffed I may be that it didn't change my entire perception of cinema. So, ladies and gentlemen, check your expectations at the front desk, but please, do give this film a chance. I've got a feeling we'll be debating this one for some time.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Fear and Loathing on the Oregon Trail

There are a handful of reasons why Meek's Cutoff has attracted a trifle bit more attention than the average indie release. Most notably, it's a Western, which in the current cinematic climate is like being the albino buffalo in the herd. It also boasts a pedigree of indie film royalty, with a cast including Paul Dano, Bruce Greenwood, Shirley Henderson and the belle of the low-budget ball herself, Michelle Williams, who re-teams with director Kelly Reichardt after their critically lauded collaboration, Wendy and Lucy. Notice that Williams takes the central role and, well, do the math from here, that makes Meek's Cutoff a female driven Western, albeit one that's low on dialogue and high on ensemble. The results may bore casual viewers, or even offend fans of the genre's classic entries, but one could make the argument that Reichardt's film is a milestone for Westerns much in the same way McCabe and Mrs. Miller was forty years ago.

I don't know that I'd go quite that far. Meek's Cutoff arrives in a year where female protagonists have taken almost as many beatings as they've given, but it plays out in a genre that practically doesn't exist anymore, and could make its point in a quieter way. That sounds like a complaint, but it's actually a great strength of the film, and I wouldn't dream of holding against it all the problems in Hollywood it will fail to right. What I love most about the film is the way it gradually assumes the female gaze, taking root early on as the important conversations of menfolk are observed at length from the road-weary wives. Halfway through, William's character Emily has slid comfortably into the protagonist role, at one point even holding a gun to the titular Meek, the rugged, cocksure, and slightly bamboozled symbol of manliness in an outmoded genre. The end, in one of those gloriously vague parting notes that will take some viewers time to come to terms with, is essentially a passing of the baton, and while it won't satisfy those looking for old western thrills, it perfectly fulfills the narrative Reichardt sets out to tell.

I suppose I can muster some sympathy for those seeking more excitement. The stakes in Meek's Cutoff are clearly high, but I don't think they're raised sufficiently throughout the course of the film. Fear exists in many shades on a trek across the Great Plains, but while Reichardt does a superb job establishing the dreaded threat of Indian attack, the cruel indifference of nature rarely resonates like it should. But this is a minimalist Western, and since I did my homework, that's exactly what I went in braced for. The nine characters of the film might as well exist in their own universe, and even the slightest hints of civilization are nowhere to be seen. The barren screen still leaves a few things to marvel at, such as the postcard-worthy photography and lively costume design, but this is a film defined at first-glance by its pace. If the thought of that turns you off, though, consider for a moment the second-glance, which through inverting the gaze of classic Westerns, has something valuable to offer cinema in 2011.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Cave of Forgotten Dreams: or The Crocodiles Who Look Back Into The Abyss of Time

As summer blockbuster season comes fully into bloom, the most prolific superhero of the last decade also returns to theaters, this time, wouldn't you know it, in 3D. I'm talking, of course, about Werner Herzog, the maverick madman of German cinema, and recent usurper of Morgan Freeman's reign as documentary narrator extraordinaire (Encounters at the End of the World is, after all, the anti March of the Penguins). And while Herzog's narrative features of late have had mixed results, it's in his most recent documentaries that the reckless spirit that characterizes earlier masterworks like Fitzcarraldo and Aguirre: The Wrath of God most fully comes through. His latest is a three-dimensional journey into the prehistoric Chauvet Cave in the south of France, and bears a name befitting any Herzog meditation - The Cave of Forgotten Dreams.

Here's your 30 second background lesson. Rediscovered in 1994, Chauvet Cave contains the world's oldest known cave paintings, some of them dating back over 32 thousand years. Fearing human damage such as that in Lascaux, the French government has greatly restricted access to the caves, limiting traffic to a handful of archeologists, anthropologists, and lastly, surprisingly or not, to Herzog and a minuscule film crew. They were granted one week and a mere few hours each day, and it's from those short visits that the lion's share of the footage in Cave of Forgotten Dreams comes from.

The 3D element is bound to pique the most curiosity, as this is really the first we've seen of the technology popping up somewhere other than a special effects extravaganza. Herzog's justification is that the extra dimension was necessary to capture the contours of the cave walls, upon which the drawings rely, and upon beholding every bulge on every bison, there can be no doubt that his instincts were correct. The previous images of cave art I have in mind seem to exist on a flat canvas, but these drawings gain motion from the curvature of their surroundings. A 3D skeptic if there ever was one, I can take some comfort in knowing that in the right hands - a Herzog or a Cameron, say - it's a technology capable of elevating the medium under the right circumstances. Considering how easy it would have been for an old dog like Herzog to dismiss 3D as a childish gimmick (which, granted, it often is), his open-mindedness is commendable, and the results are to everyone's benefit.

That's not to say that he has a total grasp on the technology just yet. While many of the cave shots are mind-numbingly majestic, there's a fair share of clunkly camerawork, probably just as much a fault of the time constraints as any differences in shooting. He also succumbs later on to the temptation of having objects dart at the screen (in this case a spear), and one researcher's mustache gains particularly vivid life thanks to 3D capabilities. The other barrier standing between this and Herzog's greatest films is the loose structure, again, a likely product of the rushed shooting schedule. The cave drawings a mesmerizing, and one could conceivable gaze at them for hours on end, but the film is light on content, and Herzog's philosophical musings are even more speculative than usual.

Alright, that last point isn't really a complaint. In fact, there's plenty of fun to be derived from the batty half-theories, such as the improbable closing line that we somehow arrive at, "Are we today the crocodiles who look back into the abyss of time in Chauvet Cave?" Yes, somewhere in the postscript, he brings crocodiles into the equation, and like only Herzog can do, makes them not seem entirely out of place. Much in the same way that certain individuals seems drawn to him, whatever the film, whatever the subject. Take, for instance, the French perfume expert who looks like he walked out of a Jean Rollin film, or the scientist decked out in reindeer fur who actually pulls out the replica of a primitive flute and begin to play terribly. Did Herzog goad him into this, or was the man already so caught up in the director's past obsessions that he voluntarily went there? Or is it that even when chronicling the history of a room unoccupied for thousands of years, Herzog can't help but find common threads to all his past work? Whatever the case, Cave of Forgotten Dreams is a must see for fans of the director, and it may just be the 3D event of the summer.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Top 30 Films of 2010

Otherwise titled, Tristan's 2010 Films Awards, Part 3.

I'm going to run some commentary as I go along so I'll keep the upfront talk to a minimum, but just to reiterate, 2010 was a pretty darn good year. Hell, I could probably have stretched it to 40 with the likes of Please Give, Inception, True Grit, Easy A, Restrepo, How To Train Your Dragon, and even the totally bizarre Wild Grass. But instead you get 30, which is a totally arbitrary number, though it does allow me to give shout outs to a few other films that I couldn't fit into the rest of the nominations, but are still worth a look. But since this is has accidentally turned into the Old Country Buffet of awards lists, I'm going to be forced to make my cinematic ruminations similarly indigestible. So be warned, little actual insight ahead.

Shall we proceed?

30. Map of the Sounds of Tokyo (Isabel Coixet)

Maybe it's not a good way to start a list with a film that I would call a mild disappointment, but I've been impressed with both Coixet and Rinko Kikuchi before and given the premise, I thought this tale of a Tokyo assassin has a lot of potential. Turns out it was just good, enough to land a spot in my top 30, but then again, barely. It's lovely to look at, and I can't fault the performances, but until the very end, it's a bit lethargic.

29. Alamar (Pedro Gonzalez-Rubio)

Here's another gorgeous film to behold (look at that frame above, and if this suffers from anything, it's from being too fleeting. It's a tranquil blend of documentary and fiction, and an insightful look into a culture that from a city-dweller's perspective seems full of simple pleasures.

28. Let Me In (Matt Reeves)

Egads, a remake! And of the most sacred of all vampire movies no less. Sorry purists, I liked this one better, maybe not a lot better, because Let The Right One In was good too, but it is soooooo not even in the top 20 best vampire flicks ever. And yes, I do hate puppies.

27. Secret Sunshine (Lee Chang-dong)

Some truly impressive, heavy Korean drama, the kind that cycles through 360 degrees of emotions in its nearly two and a half hour running time. It's anchored by not one, but two terrific performances, and though future generations of film buffs will debate what year it actually garnered a release, it's down in my book as 2010.

26. Night Catches Us (Tanya Hamilton)

One of the better surprises of last year for me was this underrated gem from first time director Tanya Hamilton. Sure, it helps that we get the always dependable Anthony Mackie and Kerry Washington, and a killer score by The Roots, but even the direction feels surprisingly assured for someone right out of the gate. Looking forward to seeing more from her.

25. Micmacs (Jean-Pierre Jeunet)

It's no Amelie, but it probably rivals that as Jeunet's most fun film, which is to say it's never too bogged down by weirdness not to be simply enjoyable. The main character lacks the spark of most Jeunet regulars, but the supporting crew is top-notch and a true delight to observe.

24. 127 Hours (Danny Boyle)

Funny that I still can't decide how whether I love this film or just really like it. I do love Boyle's kinetic direction and A.R. Rahman's soaring score, but it's also the kind of film that without these elements I would otherwise want nothing to do with (see Castway). Rest assured, any obstacles to the grueling human survival story are more than overcome here, and I really have no complaints to lodge whatsoever, but I also know that there are several other Boyle films I prefer to this one, including the far more uneven, if no less ambitious, Sunshine.

23. Fish Tank (Andrea Arnold)

Another great surprise, and one that I kept putting off all year because I wasn't sure I'd like it. Wrong. It seems to particularly hit its stride when dealing with the problems of love in all the wrong places, and Michael Fassbinder gives a terrific performance alongside amateur Katie Jarvis.

22. Around a Small Mountain (Jacques Rivette)

Alright, I cheat. I saw this film back in 2009 at the New York Film Festival and even included it on my yearly awards last year. But it didn't get a theatrical release until 2010, so in an effort to course correct, I'm considering eligible once again. It also may very well end up being Jacques Rivette's final film, so how could I not include it twice?

21. Blue Valentine (Derek Cianfrance)

A bit of a downer, this one is, but thanks to two fantastic performances at the center, a beautiful downer through and through. The flashback sequences and the central scenes in the sleazy motel with a "Future Room" were highlights.

20. Red Riding: 1974 (Julian Jarrod)

The start of murder mysteries are always so much more fascinating than the conclusions, aren't they? That's why this first chapter in this saga of investigative journalism and police procedurals is the best of the bunch. It also stars Andrew Garfield, Sean Bean, and a bloody fantastic Rebecca Hall. Worthy a look? Absolutely.

19. A Prophet (Jacques Audiard)

A superbly taught prison film that probably demands I justify why it's not higher on my list. Well, I personally consider it a victory for prison films, a genre which I have very little interest in, that I could love something as much as I did this. Tahar Rahim is a force to be reckoned with, and his transformation over the course of the film is surely one of the best performances of last year.

18. Animal Kingdom (David Michod)

One of the best written films of last year is this terrific Aussie crime drama of a family on its slow and steady way out. A handful of great performances across the ensemble bring each character into the picture and wisely not all at once. It's fantastic storytelling, and totally deserving of the supporting actress nod for Jacki Weaver, playing the menacing matriarch of the clan.

17. The Social Network (David Fincher)

Count me in the Social Network should have won camp, although I don't really hold a grudge against The King's Speech, which was perfectly enjoyable Oscar bait. Here's a film that's certainly not without a few flaws, but it's timely as hell, and ambitious to boot. The writing is sharp, if sometimes too clever, but thanks to Fincher's totalitarian hand in it all, everyone is playing to their strengths. I'm eager to rewatch it, and I can see it gaining in my ranks even more, but suffice it to say, I'm impressed. Fincher and I haven't always agreed in the past, but I'd call this a great success.

16. White Material (Claire Denis)

Claire Denis is probably the finest female director working today, and while I don't always love her films (though some, some I love unconditionally), I always leave them feeling totally familiar with her very regional approach to filmmaking. Here she returns to Africa, the continent of two of her greatest successes, Beau Travail and Chocolat (no, not that one) and with the incomparable Isabelle Huppert at the front, she creates her finest film since Friday Night. Beautiful and brutal at the same time.

15. Terribly Happy (Henrik Ruben Genz)

Best described as a Danish Hot Fuzz with the stakes upped considerably (Miles, I think you get credit for that), this was still one of the most entertaining movies I saw last year, and probably one of the best written. Great performances - wish I could have singled some out - and I really loved the ending. And with this one being instant-watchable, there's no excuse to miss it.

14. Winter's Bone (Debra Granik)

Given how much I hated Frozen River, I worried that I would be in for more of the same with Winter's Bone. Couldn't have been more wrong. As Ree Dolly, Jennifer Lawrence gives a tremendous performance, and she's tenacious enough to make a compelling protagonist out of. The assist from John Hawkes only makes things better.

13. Vincere (Marco Bellocchio)

It's good to see the Italian movie industry on the rebound after a long and mostly unremarkable period following the passing of Fellini and the heyday of Giallo. Marco Bellocchio's Vincere is a great feat of directing and a bold look into a side of Mussolini's life most are not familiar with.

12. The American (Anton Corbijn)

Here's one you probably have heard of, though that unfortunately doesn't mean this fantastic old-school, art house action film had been seen enough. If you're wondering why, my description above should clear things up for you. The American was just insanely good on a level I never expected of it, while Clooney doesn't have to do anything but carry himself like the classic movie star he is, I for one could use a little more of that in movies these days. Unfortunately, he's one of the few who can pull that off.

11. Tangled (Nathan Greno and Byron Howard)

OK, here's one you've definitely heard of, and also the highest ranked film on the list not to show up in my previous nominations. Tangled was exactly what I was looking for after finally having grown disenchanted with the unstoppable reign of Pixar. Here's a film aiming specifically to recapture the glory of Disney's 90s era and damn near almost achieving it. That's fucking impressive, and if it's still no Beauty and the Beast, it does so much right that I feel comfortable calling it a return to form. The music was merely good, but the voice-work was fantastic and the art direction was stunning. See above.

Which leaves us right on the doorstep of the top 10. Drumroll, please.

10. The Ghost Writer (Roman Polanski)

Speaking of return to forms, here is Roman Polanski, at nearly 80 years old, turning out a most assured and masterful thriller that only just falls short of his masterpieces of ages past. It helps that it goes out on such a memorable note - the final shot is picture, and jesus does it stick with you - but I knew right from when I saw it in March of '10 that it would remain one of my favorites of the year. Plus, Olivia Williams gets to be awesome, and that alone will win me over every time.

9. Carlos (Olivier Assayas)

Carlos the Jackal gets an epic 6-hour feature film (or depending on your viewing platform, miniseries) from the multi-talented European art-house extraordinaire Olivier Assayas. It's a monumental undertaking and easily one of the great cinematic achievements of the year, which makes it seem almost unfair to stack it up against these other measly two-hour features. But my awe at the ambition of the project aside, I think it looks good right here in spot number 9.

8. Never Let Me Go (Mark Romanek)

Here's one where I won't spoil any surprises, because part of my love for this film was from how off-guard the turn in its premise got me (I haven't read the book, though now I know I must). What I will say is that this is an overwhelming tragedy, and on a list with quite a few of those already, it handily trumps them all. It's also got a trio of terrific performances from Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield and Kiera Knightly (who we can all stop hating now, right? because she's awesome), and some gloriously gloomy visuals. Must see melancholia.

7. Ondine (Neil Jordan)

My, my, what a beautiful movie. More than just turning his career around midway through last decade, Colin Farrell has actually grown into one of the finest working actors we have, and that he can take time so make such a stunning modern day fairy tale as Ondine is testament that he's finally got things figured out. In fact, this could very well have made my top three except the script kind of fumbles the third act, but not nearly enough for me to turn against it.

6. Mother (Boon Jong-ho)

Here's the other film that appeared on my awards last year, garnering a similarly respectable placement. Actually, considering that it's former inclusion probably influenced my ranking slightly, Mother would be totally deserving of a place in the top 5, and it was agonizing to decide between these. There's really nothing I would change about this thriller, which from all I can tell is flawless from top to bottom, all stemming, of course, from Kim Hye-ja's phenomenal performance. It's also a great entry point to Korean cinema, and just happens to be one of the best I've seen so far as well.

5. Another Year (Mike Leigh)

The film from last year that proved most impossible for me to shake, and it just steadily rose in my rankings the more I contemplated it that it settled all the way here at number 5. Another Year is really just a continuation of Mike Leigh's career long probing of the UK working class, but it rings so true and delivers a brutal punch in the gut that could only ever happen from realizing how human these characters are.

4. Bluebeard (Catherine Breillat)

Bluebeard is important because it forced me to challenge the preconceived notion that I hated Catherine Breillat and her approach to filmmaking. Granted, this bears little resemblance to the odious Fat Girl, but I still put this off for some time for fear of repeating past mistakes. But instead, she's gives us an exquisite fairy tale (a recurring genre for me this year, like, really really recurring), executed with a minimalist touch that no one save Robert Bresson could have done better. Quite and enchanting, it's everything I love in a movie, including its ability to confound my expectations.

3. Enter The Void (Gaspar Noe)

The stuff of dreams and nightmares. If you dig Gaspar Noe and his self-indulgent cinematic explorations (as I tend to), this may trend more toward dream, but for those not on board, it's going to be an interminable few hours. At least the visuals are gasp-inducing, and even if I thought they were empty (which, nope, I don't) then they would still elevate the entire film to the level of something, well, something on the far left field of cinema.

2. The Illusionist (Sylvain Chomet)

Here's a recurring theme across every list of Tristan's favorites: I love animation. Love it. More than my unborn children (one of which who will almost certainly be named Nausicaa). And what a coincidence, I also love Jacques Tati, the late, great master of French comedy. So ever since I got word that Sylvain Chomet, of Triplets of Belleville fame, was adapting an unfilmed script of Tati's, I knew I would be there opening night. It turned out to not quite be opening night, but I was there sure enough, and to use the most obvious term, it felt magical. There's so much love and affection behind these characters, and such breathtaking animation surrounding them, not to mention that it made for the perfect love letter to one of the greatest directors of all time. And even with a heart-breaking turn of events at the end, it's still never less than enchanting, and without doubt one of my favorites of the year.

1. Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky)

"It was perfect."

Much like Inglourious Basterds last year, Black Swan attempts off the bold feat of ending the film on a singular line that doubles as a self-appraisal. And like Inglourious Basterds, against all odds, this somehow works. No, the film isn't perfect, or not in the seamless sense that most will take it. There are rough edges, a few inconsistencies, and a few lines of dialogue that just don't ring true, but whatever, perfection in that sense can often translate to boring, and I like my films a little rough around the edges.

I also like them, from time to time, to be batshit insane and not give a tinker's damn about the overrated concept of subtlety. Black Swan is so committed to its indulgences that I can't help but stand in awe of Darren Aronofsky for pulling it all off, and that goes especially for the spectacular climax, the year's most superbly orchestrated scene by miles and miles. Throw in a career defining performance by Natalie Portman and you've got what's sure to be one of my favorite pictures of the decade, let alone year.

Thanks for dropping by everyone! Looking forward to the year ahead, with a few great films already under my belt and some promising ones on the nearby horizon in Tree of Life and Melancholia.

And I don't know exactly how soon this is happening, but I have an exciting side-project along with a cinematic wiz-kid friend of mine that I can't wait to unleash on you all. In due time though.

Cheers!

Monday, April 25, 2011

2010 Film Awards: Part 2

Welcome to the flashy and star-whorey portion of the program. Yes, it's time for the acting awards, where I'll count down the 10 best performances of the year in each category, always wearing my biases shamelessly. Watch as I consistently opt to recognize the young and pretty people, like Jacki Weaver, Barry Pepper, and that guy who plays Filch in the Harry Potter movies (his name is actually David Bradley, and he's awesome). What you should know is that is was a phenomenal year for actresses. One of the best ever, possibly, and everyone in my top eight would have been a deserving winner in any other year. The rest of the categories, I was less enthusiastic overall, but that shouldn't demean the nominees one bit, and certainly not the superb batch of winners. This will all be followed by tea and refreshments, or at the very least, the countdown for Best Director.

Here's a teaser for you. I hate ties, but in the case of one category below, I saw no other option. It wouldn't have been possible for me to decide one way or another. I also may have cheated by ranking one actor according to not one performance, but three. The alternative was nominating him three separate times and Ryan Gosling and his shaky #10 spot would so not have approved of that.

Speaking of teasers, here's a few for the Top 30.
1. Out of the 30 films, 6 will have received no prior nominations at my awards.
2. The highest of these clocks in at #11.
3. That being said, the films with the most nominations aren't necessarily clustered at the top. Several films in the top 10 have only 2 other nominations.
4. 6 films out of 30 were directed by women.
5. 9 films are Oscar nominees.

That's something for you to sip on while we move onto tonight's main event.

Best Supporting Actress
This is the odd year where Lead Actress is commanding most of my attention. The truth is that Supporting Actress is usually my favorite category. This nice mix of the young and up-and-coming ladies with a few seasoned vets shows why. They range from scene-stealers with limited roles to glamor icons doing far more with a glance than any dialogue they're given. Topping the list are two women who I've been dying to award for a while now, with the winner in particular giving one of the best performances of her career. And runners up? Sure, I can think of a few. How about Mia Wasilkowska for The Kids Are Alright and Barbara Hershey for Black Swan? Speaking of which.

10. Mila Kunis in Black Swan

9. Jacki Weaver in Animal Kingdom

8. Blake Lively in The Town

7. Marion Cotillard in Inception

6. Kristen Scott-Thomas in Nowhere Boy

5. Rooney Mara in The Social Network

4. Kiera Knightly in Never Let Me Go

3. Alison Barry in Ondine

2. Rebecca Hall in Red Riding: 1974

1. Olivia Williams in The Ghost Writer

Best Supporting Actor

Here's a usually fun category that's looking quite serious this year despite a couple of oddball turns mixed in for good measure. 2010 was a terrible year for comedy, so there's very little of that, but it sure was a great year for character actors to rise to the occasion. Out of the 10 actors listed here, only one of them has much mainstream acceptance, the rest are by varying degrees obscure, foreign, forgotten, or from the magic land of TV. And once again, I couldn't be happier with my winner. A great performance from a truly under-appreciated actor. Runner up: the guys in Micmacs and also Armie Hammer. Wish I had room for him.

10. Stephen Rea in Ondine

9. Ben Mendelsohn in Animal Kingdom

8. Kieran Culkin in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

7. Niels Arestrup in A Prophet

6. Barry Pepper in True Grit

5. Geoffrey Rush in The King's Speech

4. David Bradley in Another Year

3. Vincent Cassel in Black Swan

2. Peter Wight in Another Year

1. John Hawkes in Winter's Bone

Best Lead Actor

Gentleman, I can't think of a single thing you all have in common, except that I somehow still preferred you all to James Franco despite liking 127 Hours a lot. That is definitely the big head-scratcher omission here, although I did still find room for one of the Academy's nominees. Oh, and this would be the category were I cheated and combined three performances into one slot. And a very respectable spot that is. Runner up: James Franco.

10. Ryan Gosling in Blue Valentine

9. Michael Fassbender in Fish Tank

8. Jim Broadbent in Another Year

7. Jessie Eisenberg in The Social Network

6. Song Kang-ho in Secret Sunshine

5. Anthony Mackie in Night Catches Us

4. Tahar Rahim in A Prophet

3. Colin Farrell in Ondine

2. Andrew Garfield in The Social Network/Never Let Me Go/Red Riding 1974

1. Edgar Ramirez in Carlos

Best Lead Actress

What a year for actresses, huh? Even the Academy put together its best lineup since 1996 and that's with the inclusion of the so-so Bening. Hell, I found room for three of those ladies here, a handful of terrific foreign performances, and even a surprisingly great turn in a genre series nearing its end. Oh, and there's clearly something amazing happening in Korean film right now, so I kinda couldn't help but notice that. My top 3 all would be winners in any just world, and yes, one of them technically already is, but we all know that my awards carry just a little more prestige than the Oscars. As for the winner, I probably should have seen it coming, since this is not the first time this director has lead his leads to all-time list. Runner's up: Ruth Sheen in Another Year, Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole

10. Emma Watson in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1

9. Michelle Williams in Blue Valentine

8. Isabelle Huppert in White Material

7. Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's Bone

6. Giovanna Mezzogiorno in Vincere

5. Carey Mulligan in Never Let Me Go

4. Jeon Do-yeon in Secret Sunshine

3. Natalie Portman in Black Swan

2. Kim Hye-ja in Mother

1. Lesley Manville in Another Year

Best Director

The best indicator yet of what my Top 30 list is going to look like, below are the 10 directors responsible for some of the greatest cinematic feats of last year. All have excelled in very different ways, from animation to working class realism, from minimalism to, well, maximalism. And all capped off with two singular visions that find the respective directors at the absolute peak of their powers. That's why there's a tie here for first place. Not only could I not choose between them, but I would never expect either director to create something so remarkable ever again. That's not an expression of doubt, since I was never expecting something so extraordinary in the first place. In light of that, I thought it only fair to declare a tie. Runners Up: Claire Denis for White Material and Neil Jordan for Ondine.

10. Sylvain Chomet for The Illusionist