The Best Films of 2011:
My list seems to be quite a bit stranger than most of the lists I’ve seen. This isn’t just because I’m trying to draw attention to more obscure films (although that’s hopefully a happy by-product).
No, what I tried to do this year was simply relate the films that resonated with me on a primal, gut level. The films that mean a lot to me, the films that made me cry or laugh uncontrollably (or both, ideally). The films I saw this year that felt truly invested with an almost unbridled passion for the stories they were telling.
And so it goes…
#30. The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (Steven Spielberg)
Wrote a bit about this HERE already, as this was part of a quadruple-pronged Christmas present to myself. However, since watching this that first time I’ve returned for a second viewing and found new things to appreciate that I hadn’t expected. A recent re-watch of Jurassic Park was similarly eye-opening, largely because I hadn’t seen it in a long time, but more importantly because I had never really watched it with an eye towards dissecting it from a technical/structural perspective.
There are techniques Spielberg utilizes in many of his films that are so simple and understated they’re easy to miss on cursory viewings. The fact that he’s so great at drawing an audience into a narrative also tends to draw focus away from the technically astonishing craftsmanship on display. Ultimately, Tintin is #30 on this list for a few reasons. For starters, the actual character of Tintin isn’t really a dynamic or dramatically compelling creature. I found it hard to get drawn into the story on both viewings as a result of this and as a result of the madcap insanity Spielberg surrounds everything with.
With that said, the madcap insanity I speak of is also one of the things I love most about the film – particularly in the ‘single-shot’ action sequence towards the end of the film that’s one of the most brilliant, purely pleasurable stretches of cinema of the year. It feels like we’re finally getting a glimpse at the unbridled imagination of Steven Spielberg, which makes this film utterly essential viewing for anyone who’s a serious fan of cinema.
In closing, to return to the craftsmanship on display here – and the comparison to Jurassic Park – both films feature major action sequences that are symmetrical, for lack of a better word. They’re eerily-similar, I suppose. To go back to Jurassic Park, there are little touches throughout, but the major similarity is between the car falling out of the tree onto Tim and Alan after the T. Rex attack and the T. Rex skeleton falling on Tim during the climactic raptor attack. In a way, it’s like he’s conducting a symphony of images with the film – the moment you recognize a similar visual element in the Rex rib cage falling on Tim, the T. Rex himself shows up to save the day. It’s a powerful, unconscious emotional connection Spielberg establishes with the audience, and it’s as good an example as any of what’s made him so successful for so long.
The example in Tintin involves a mid-battle flashback in which two ships’ masts become entangled in the midst of a maelstrom – one of the most insane action sequences ever – which is then called back with Captain Haddock and Saccharine duelling with construction cranes on the docks. The big difference between Tintin and Jurassic Park is that, ultimately, the story here is just an excuse for Spielberg to run wild and little more. It’s an inconsequential, goofy adventure cartoon that falls just shy of being a true masterwork.
SIDEBAR: This whole visual-callback thing comes directly from a viewing of John Boorman’s unjustly-maligned Exorcist II: The Heretic, in which a film full of evocative, haunting imagery all comes together in a flurry of madness in its final sequence where every single sequence is recalled. That film is fascinating.
#29. Hanna (Joe Wright)
This is not my genre. Girl who’s a stone-cold assassin, trained by her father to be a spy and then set loose on the world, etcetera. I don’t love it. There are films that this film is reminiscent of, films like Leon: the Professional or something, that I’ve never gotten the praise for.
With that said, Joe Wright firmly establishes himself as a truly remarkable filmmaker by once again making a film from subject matter I could not care less about and making it amazing. The basic script for this film isn’t much, honestly. I don’t know how many of the fairy tale trimmings are on the page, but I’d imagine Wright brought a lot of that to the film himself, and the film honestly wouldn’t work without it.
I’ve only seen this film once, in theaters, but I look forward to returning to it in the near future. It’s an invigorating action picture, yes, but more than that it’s a film that takes some time out to focus on quieter moments with its characters. Wright and Saoirse Ronan create a truly complete and endearing character with a series of minimal touches throughout. It’s a rare, understated wonder of an action film that coasts on a propulsive score from the Chemical Brothers and the sumptuous visual imagery Wright manages to conjure throughout, particularly during a climactic showdown in an almost-unimaginably macabre fairy-tale-themed amusement park.
And all due props to Tom Hollander, who gives a remarkable performance in this film as a blonde-haired sociopath, and whose character certainly deserves a better fate than he receives.
#28. Bridesmaids (Paul Feig)
I was honestly not expecting to like this movie anywhere near as much as I did. A large reason for this, I’m sure, were the annoying press approaches to its mere existence, all “women can be funny too!” and “women can make dirty jokes and stuff just like men can!” – but I’m sensitive to any agenda trumpeted so loudly, and the only thing that matters at the end of the day is whether or not the film is any good. The good news, of course, is that this film is great.
Other than the fact that it could definitely stand to be a good bit shorter, I can’t think of too many problems I had with this film. For a long time now, I’ve thought Kristen Wiig was one of the funniest women on the planet – frequently in spite of her repetitive-to-the-point-of-annoyance characters on SNL – but now at least there’s definitive proof. Melissa McCarthy also deserves a lot of recognition, and not just for playing a completely insane character, but for grounding that character in its own warped version of reality that makes the jokes ring much truer.
I don’t really have as much to say about this film. This isn’t the kind of film I sit down and analyze, beat-for-beat, for shot-selection and structural technique or anything. It’s just a fun, crowd-pleasing, heart-warming romantic comedy that also happens to be one of the best films of the year.
#27. X-Men: First Class (Matthew Vaughn)
I’m quite fond of the X-Men series. I grew up on the cartoon, I love the films, I love what I’ve read of the comic (although Grant Morrison’s run kind of went off the rails towards the end, but I digress), and I love alternate history tales. Usually, these tales just involve the Nazis winning WWII or something, but my favorite kind of alternate history story is the kind this film chooses to be. A version of reality that’s just slightly-off, and maybe even a version that could have actually happened and been covered-up.
Fassbender’s Magneto describes himself early in the film as Frankenstein’s monster, and at that point the film could have taken me anywhere. From its pitch-perfect casting of Kevin Bacon as villain Sebastian Shaw to its climactic scenes on the beach in Cuba, we’re treated to an inventive, inspired take on classic X-Men characters rendered engaging through the visual style Vaughn brings to the material. That’s probably the thing I love most about this film – and the thing that’s made it stick with me as much as it has. Simply the presence of a filmmaker behind the camera who’s truly invested in the story he’s telling – I mean, that’s all a film really needs. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy in your two lead roles.
It’s far from a perfect film, however. January Jones is pretty wooden for a woman ostensibly made of diamonds, and Jennifer Lawrence’s Mystique is…I don’t know that any of this is her fault, but that character is just awful and whiny pretty much throughout. And, to top all of that off, this film gets an award for Worst Scene in a Great Film for the sequence in which all of the ‘First Class’ of X-Men give each other code names that just so happen to be the same as their code names in the comics.
The finale, however, makes up for a lot – with the showdown on the beach shifting on a dime from a battle between Eric and his former Nazi tormentor to a showdown between Eric and Charles – a showdown of two competing ideals that gives the film a weight its frequent campiness threatens to subsume. For Matthew Vaughn, it’s a major step up from 2010′s Kick Ass, and I can’t wait to see what he does next.
#26. Young Adult (Jason Reitman)
A very good, deceptively slight film from Reitman with a fantastic and restrained script from Diablo Cody. Featuring almost none of the ‘look-how-clever-I-am’ dialogue Cody’s become infamous for, this film is ultimately a genuine, heartbreaking depiction of a deeply-flawed, borderline-loathsome human being.
Charlize Theron continues to prove herself to be an actress of unimaginable depth and range, and Patton Oswalt manages to more than holds his own as a sad sack nerd-type character with irreparably-damaged genitalia who lives with his sister and brews his own liquor in the garage in his spare time.
I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m damning this film with faint praise to say that there’s really nothing else I can say about it. It speaks for itself. All I can do is whole-heartedly encourage everyone to check it out. Charlize Theron is a MAJOR snub in the Best Actress category at this year’s Oscars, and it’s a shame this film won’t get the box office boost her richly-deserved nomination would have gotten it.
This is the kind of film that’s likely going to age very well, and I’m afraid I’m going to regret placing it so low. It’s a film that grows richer in my mind the more I think about it, and one I can’t wait to return to whenever it comes out on Blu-Ray.
#25. Rango (Gore Verbinski)
Some goofy kid-humor aside, this film is fucking bizarre and all the more wonderful as a result. A truly vital kids’ film that values surreal humor above all else, this was both one of the most pleasant surprises of the year and proof positive that Gore Verbinski is one of the most under-appreciated filmmakers out there right now.
The sheer amount of imagination on display in every frame of this film is staggering. It’s the most carefully-crafted and labored-over animated film since Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox. It’s a film that creates a complete world, with truly unique character designs and a strong sense of its Spaghetti Western influences in everything from said character designs to the downright Sergio Leone-esque framing.
Into a plot that’s basically a riff on Chinatown stumbles a character in search of his own story, and although the meta aspects of the film – such as a Greek chorus of owls – frequently threaten to teeter into annoyance, the film ultimately succeeds as an adventure film first and a meta-commentary on the Hero’s Journey a distant second.
Now that Tintin isn’t nominated for the Best Animated Feature Oscar, I would hope that gives Rango the undisputed advantage in the category, but who knows. The fact that such a deeply strange film reached both the level of financial success and the level of critical acceptance it did is a truly remarkable thing.
#24. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt)
So good I was really hoping this guy would land the Twilight Zone gig when it was up for grabs earlier this year. Here, Rupert Wyatt does one of the finest, most fascinating franchises of all time proud. Not that Matt Reeves is any slouch, but I digress.
This franchise is one near and dear to my heart – even, with a handful of qualifications, the 2001 Tim Burton remake. The original series followed the most bizarre progression of events of any film series…or really any series of events linked in some sort of narrative progression, honestly. From the first film with its now-forever-spoiled ending, to its sequel which has an ending that should, in theory, negate any further films, to the 3rd film which involves a pair of apes traveling back in time to the 1970s to partake in the Roe v. Wade debate and eventually bring about the end of humanity, to film #4, which this film is a quasi-remake of.
And, honestly, this film is a worthy successor to the underrated Escape from the Planet of the Apes in ways Conquest of the Planet of the Apes wasn’t quite. A lot of this is due to the work Andy Serkis puts in as Caesar, but there’s just as much to be said about Rupert Wyatt’s exquisitely-staged action sequences, and the work all around by the fine folk as WETA as well as stunt coordinator/Why Cookie Rocket? orangutan Terry Nation (who will show up much later on this list as well).
This film came at the tail end of a rotten summer for blockbusters and people wondered why it did so well at the box office. Because it was fucking awesome, that’s why.
#23. Paranormal Activity 3 (Henry Joost & Ariel Schulman)
The first two films of this series both resonated with me a great deal, but this is indisputably the finest effort of the bunch and one of the most unique and well-constructed found-footage movies I’ve ever seen. It’s a film that isn’t as concerned with adhering to its gimmick as it is to telling a well-constructed narrative, and Joost & Schulman coax a pair of miraculous performances out of their two child leads that help sell the scares – which are aplenty, and still give me chills – all the better.
I haven’t seen their first film, Catfish (although I have had its ending spoiled for me), but if this film is any indication, these guys are going to be unstoppable. Having well under a year in which to put this whole enterprise together and release it, these guys had to unravel the increasingly-complex riddle of this series’ narrative (which, admittedly, gives the Planet of the Apes series a run for its money) and figure out a way to somehow surpass the two preceding films in scares while adhering to the same rigid found-footage conceit.
In a way, the Paranormal Activity series is like a horror franchise version of The Five Obstructions. Instead of making the same film over again with new restrictions, this series gives its filmmakers of choice the same set of restrictions while allowing them to come up with a new story each time out, so long as it furthers the narrative.
It’s the best film in one of my favorite horror franchises – and really the only horror franchise we have going right now, sadly – and it also happened to be one of the most fun theater-going experiences of the year for yours truly.
#22. War Horse (Steven Spielberg)
A very good film that falls just short of true greatness for me. Has some sequences that I love unabashedly and that had me close to tears, but has others that feel like they just hit the wrong notes. It feels like Spielberg’s outside of his comfort zone this time out, making a film more akin to an artistic exercise a la Robert Bresson’s Au Hasard Balthazar or L’Argent than to a family-friendly melodramatic WWI film.
And, ultimately, I find value in the film for that. It’s astonishing to see filmmakers like Spielberg and Scorsese trying their hand at new approaches to narrative and filmmaking so far into their careers. These are filmmakers who gamble everything on their films, every time out, and risk falling flat on their face in the process.
In fact, many people have accused Spielberg of doing just that – of making a film that panders, making a film that’s needlessly melodramatic. And ultimately, nothing I say is going to change anyone’s mind on this film. It is what it is. Yes, it’s definitely a throwback to an older style of filmmaking – a more grandiose, big-budget, Golden Age of Hollywood-style film, and I find value in that.
My minor quibbles with the film – such as the under-utilization of actors as talented as Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Fucking Cumberbatch – are just that, minor. I love the story of the boy and his horse – I get it, and I had a beagle die this past year so I understand what a pet can mean to a kid growing up. I get that. And so maybe this film works more for me for that reason alone, I don’t know.
When this film clicks – I mean, just works – it’s the best film of the year. Sequences like the one towards the end of the film that takes place in No Man’s Land, or the scene where the two brothers are caught after deserting their post and stood up before a firing squad – they’re blissfully cinematic in a truly timeless way.
Most importantly, Janusz Kaminski’s work here provides evidence that he knows some of his work in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull looked like shit. Scenes in that film that were supposed to look like throw-back, studio-set-with-rear-projection scenes ended up just looking unnatural and hokey. The scenes towards the end of this film, with the sky taking up so much of the frame that it almost seems as if it’s falling, are shots that feel like they’re going for that same effect and achieve it. They look like grand, Technicolor, 70mm widescreen shots from some epic 1950s melodrama, which is ultimately the kind of film this is.
If you’re not getting emotional by the end of act 1, when Albert has to use Joey to plow a rocky field or his family will lose their farm, well – then it’s just not going to work for you. For me, obviously, it worked.
#21. The Guard (John Michael McDonough)
A very small film that has a unique charm to it – not unlike director McDonough’s brother’s 2008 film In Bruges. Not quite as good as that film through and through, but still a very fun and engaging little film that surprised me quite a bit. I remember first hearing about this film playing some festival, maybe Toronto or Sundance last year or something, and then it just kind of…the word of mouth dissipated pretty fast.
I imagine a lot of people dismissed this film as a slight effort, which is tempting given the lightweight manner with which the characters in the film treat the situations they face. If they’re making light of everything, is this all just a low-key farce? Some weird, goofy, self-aware crime thriller? It is a bit of that, sure, but it’s also a lot more.
Brendan Gleeson and Don Cheadle have an affable enough buddy-cop chemistry in this film, but Gleeson in particular elevates his character from a goofy, casually-racist simpleton to a legitimately compelling, fully-formed character. Also turning in a strong performance is Mark Strong, playing a career criminal who’s sick of dealing with the kinds of people he has to do business with.
Occasionally the film threatens to become a touch too self-aware, very nearly breaking the fourth wall to speak directly to the audience in one instance, but it never quite crossed the line for me. It’s a small little film that’s alternately hilarious and tragic in equal measure. I don’t want to say too much about it because I’m pretty sure most people haven’t seen it yet.
Every character in this film feels fully-realized. That seems like a simple thing, but it’s so rare that when it’s truly done well it’s quite remarkable.
#20. Moneyball (Bennett Miller)
I would still love to see Soderbergh’s take on my favorite sport, but this film is still a pretty damn solid work and one I’m sure I’ll be returning to plenty in lieu of any actual baseball going on at the moment. Bennett Miller’s other film, Capote, featured some great performances but never really connected with me as a narrative. It was very good, but it was also a prototypical prestige picture. I’ve been meaning to return to it since seeing this film, however, because this film is, as you may have been able to guess, one I particularly enjoyed.
Brad Pitt gives his 2nd-best performance in a film this year as Billy Beane, and this is a story I’ve known for a while now. I didn’t read the actual book, Moneyball, until late in 2010, but the story of how Billy Beane built the Oakland Athletics into a juggernaut of a team on a shoestring budget has quickly become a part of baseball lore.
There are a few elements here – like the bit with Billy Beane’s daughter being a songwriter – that reek of over-manipulation. It’s evident there’s a simple, real story here and an element like that threatened to unravel my investment in the narrative almost single-handedly. Annoying touches aside, the script by Sorkin and Zaillian largely eschews the wordplay Sorkin in particular is so fond of to focus on interactions between general managers of opposing teams, or between a general manager and his staff of scouts – where more is implied that outright stated.
Pitt does great work, sure, and – although I’m not sure he should have been nominated for an Oscar – Jonah Hill does a great job as well in the role of not-Paul DePodesta. Not to mention the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo by Spike Jonze of all people. But I digress, this is a very good film that, like I said, I’ll be spending a lot of time with in the lead-up to the 2012 baseball season.
Also worth nothing: 2011 had the most dramatic and incredible finale to a Major League Baseball regular season that I’ve ever seen, with multiple games going on across several different time zones seeing two teams be eliminated – including my Atlanta Braves – from the post-season by blowing massive wild card leads in the last month of the season. So Moneyball can’t help but pale in comparison to the real thing.
#19. 50/50 (Jonathan Levine)
Leaps and bounds better than both All the Boys Love Mandy Lane and The Wackness, this film isn’t so much Levine’s accomplishment as it is screenwriter Will Reiser’s. A keenly-observed film that could only have been conceived in such a genuine, heartfelt manner by someone who’s actually been through this experience.
I don’t think I cried more at a film this year than I did at this film (I take that back actually, we’ll talk about that other film much later on this list). The interactions between Joseph Gordon Levitt’s character and his parents are heartbreaking, particularly towards the end of the film right before he goes in for surgery. A lot of people felt the Bryce Dallas Howard girlfriend character was portrayed as kind of a bitch, but I honestly have to disagree.
She’s placed in an untenable position given where their relationship is – it’s not like they’re engaged or anything that serious. She’s in an awful position and no, she doesn’t handle it very well but it made me imagine how I’d react in a similar scenario, or how I’d expect a girlfriend of mine to react. It’s a lot to expect of someone, to stick by you. It’s not something anyone should take for granted.
But I digress, this film should feel manipulative in every way, but Reiser and Levine are able to stay just on the right side of schmaltz throughout. It’s a film I wish more people had seen, and one I suspect will become regarded as a modern classic before too long.
#18. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Apichatpong Weerasethakul)
A film that feels like a living, breathing, organic thing. A film that feels like dreaming, that’s impossible to fully comprehend as anything like a concrete narrative.
I don’t even – there’s nothing I can really say about this film. It works on a primal level, with the sound design and visual imagery on display calibrated precisely to evoke the sensation that you’re watching something special, even if you – like me – have a hard time quite comprehending what exactly is going on.
Is that a woman making love to a catfish? Sure. Is that a wolf-boy? Absolutely. This is a film that aches with melancholy and is rendered unforgettable through Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s downright peerless grasp of the medium of film – AND at least one character in its ensemble is covered in hair and has a set of beady red eyes that glow like hellfire in the dark.
This is the only film of his I’ve ever seen, and I am just in complete awe of him, even if I don’t completely know what to make of the final product, it resonates with me on a gut level that’s impossible to shake.
Honestly, I’m a little surprised these entries seem to be getting shorter. I suppose it’s because I don’t have as much to say about good ol’ Apichatpong or Jonathan Levine. Most of what I wrote about Tintin was actually about Jurassic Park. I could write some more about that.
#17. The Skin I Live In (Pedro Almodovar)
A psycho-sexual, Frankenstein Created Woman/Eyes Without A Face-indebted melange that’s handily Almodovar’s finest work since his 2002 masterpiece Talk To Her. Honestly, this was not something I was expecting to even be interested in when I first heard about it. When Almodovar’s at the height of his craft (Talk To Her, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, etc) – there’s no one better. But lately, his films just seemed to…I don’t know, they just didn’t connect with me.
Largely this was due to the subject matter. On paper, Talk To Her – for instance – does not look like a movie I’m going to fall head over heels in love with. In execution, however, that’s a different story. What seems to have happened between me and Almodovar has been a slow but steady decline in the rapturous critical reception of his work, which has discouraged me from seeking out some of his more recent films. For example, the film A Separation. NOT a film by Almodovar, but a film I wouldn’t give a shit about were it not getting the crazy, ‘instant classic’ reviews it’s been receiving. But take a film like Volver – which I did see, but which I remember nothing about and feel no desire to return to.
Bad Education and Volver are both good movies, but there was nothing in them as bizarre and downright ballsy as that silent film sequence in Talk To Her, and as a result I’ve largely forgotten those films since viewing them upon their initial releases. I didn’t even see Broken Embraces, and have no idea what it’s about. But word on the street intimated that this film was a return to form of sorts. Or, rather, a break from his recent works.
Outside of talking about as many of his other films as possible, I don’t want to say too much about this film. If you know the films I compared it to in the first sentence, you’ll have an idea where this narrative is going. But otherwise, I think the surprises this film has in store are too rich and rewarding to spoil in the middle of this 10,000-ish-word longread.
It’s a unique film, it’s a strangely romantic film, and it’s a fascinating work from one of our greatest living filmmakers.
#16. Contagion (Steven Soderbergh)
For a film accused by many of being cold and emotionless, the many narrative throughlines of this film added up to a cumulative emotional resonance that kind of knocked me out. Soderbergh is one of our national treasures. He’s a ridiculously talented filmmaker whose hands-on approach to filmmaking (he shoots and edits his own films for fuck’s sake) is somehow coupled with a staggering productivity. I honestly don’t know how he does what he does.
And Contagion is a star-studded effort that marries the big-budget sheen of his Ocean’s films with the experimental approach to narrative he’s been exploring in virtually every other film he’s made. This feels like a fascinating progression for Soderbergh, who seems to be approaching filmmaking as a riddle to be solved. Constantly trying new things and delving into myriad genres – everything from this film’s big-budget disaster-movie trappings to the large-scale, two-part experimental biopic of Che Guevara to this January’s action-thriller Haywire – he’s constantly trying to push the medium of film forward in new and interesting ways.
This film is the product of a ridiculously rewarding ongoing collaboration between Soderbergh and screenwriter Scott Z. Burns (The Informant!, as well as the upcoming film Bitter Pill), and one can only hope Burns is able to talk Soderbergh into continuing to make movies in spite of his alleged ‘retirement’ at some point in the next two years or so. We need more films like this.
#15. The Descendants (Alexander Payne)
A few minor missteps aside, this film feels like a great throwback to the American New Wave films of the 1970s, a sparse, Bob Rafelson-esque tale that I found completely engrossing. It’s not Payne’s best film (I still maintain that’s Sideways, but to be honest it’s been a while since I’ve seen it), but it’s a sneaky little effort that surprised me. Typically these big awards-season films are the kind of transparent Oscar fare I’m particularly fond of calling bullshit on, but not this time. I actually really enjoy this film and honestly don’t understand the backlash.
I almost wish it wasn’t so heavily-favored to win Best Picture (unlike a…certain other film that may or may not be silent). It seems like that’s what’s garnering a negative reaction. I wish this was just a movie that somehow managed to find a distributor, that had no big names in it (although Clooney gives a phenomenal performance, don’t get me wrong), that was discovered at a festival by a small indie company like Magnet or IFC and subsequently released on their On-Demand platform and viewed in about half-a-dozen households before being relegated to Netflix Watch Instantly forever.
Because that’s the kind of film this is. It’s the kind of great, American New Wave classic film Clooney tries to make every time out (and in the case of this year’s Ides of March, falls short of making). That’s really my only quibble with this film, that I couldn’t discover it for myself. I had to hear the months of hype leading up to its limited release, but don’t believe the hype. This isn’t the type of film these awards shows normally champion. It’s actually really, really good.
#14. Melancholia (Lars Von Trier)
The purest and most accurate portrait of what depression truly feels like that I’ve ever seen. Its structure is something I initially found problematic, but subsequent viewings have only seen the film grow richer and more textured in my mind. The first half remains the strongest portion of the film for me. I love John Hurt’s ridiculous father character, I love Charlotte Rampling’s bitch of a mother and I love Udo Kier’s vindictive wedding planner. But on top of all of that, Von Trier never loses sight of the troubled woman at the center of this film, played in what has to be the best performance she’s ever given by Kirsten Dunst. Well, best since Jumanji, at least.
There are a handful of elements in this film that are a touch…problematic. Oh, you’re going to name the planet that. Okay, it’s a planet actually named Melancholia – you’re sure that’s not a bit…okay, whatever Lars, sure. That’s cool, and oh, yeah, by the way Manuel – yes, Cinematographer Manuel Alberto Claro yes you, if you could just shake the shit out of that camera for me, that’d be great. No, all the time, yeah. Shake it…yeah, like a salt shaker, you’ve got it…
But in spite of these maddening flourishes – which, on the heels of Antichrist, I suppose I should just be glad no one’s [description of graphic genital mutilation redacted] this time out.
Ultimately, it’s a very good film with a lot of problems that I love mostly because I think Lars Von Trier is a fascinating individual. I find his manner of dealing with depression (making a pair of almost unbearably-pretentious, frequently gorgeous films) far more constructive and interesting than what I’ve managed to come up with (watch any movies that are not Lars Von Trier movies), and I certainly don’t want to miss an opportunity to encourage him.
Like this, my end-of-the-year list. Which he will definitely read.
#13. The Trip (Michael Winterbottom)
I initially feared this film would prove to be little more than a one-joke premise stretched too thin and padded to feature length. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Winterbottom takes the groundwork laid in 2006′s Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story and expands upon it in a way that feels genuine and relatable.
As a fan of Steve Coogan already, I don’t know why I was so wary of finally sitting down and watching the thing. Ultimately, Netflix Watch Instantly and a handful of recommendations coming so closely on the heels of one another from such disparate sources as ‘my own family’ and ‘other people I know’ came together in a perfect storm of “maybe I should sit down and just watch this already.”
And so I did. I watched it whilst on a trip of mine own, you might say. I started it in Louisiana at home, watched about an hour, had lunch, rode to the airport in Jackson, MS with my brother, and finished watching it in the Jackson airport as my flight inexplicably stopping in Houston while on the way to Nashville continued to be delayed.
Coming when it did on the heels of 4 days spent at home with my family and away from my friends in Nashville (all 7 of you – and thanks for reading this so far, by the way, high five!), it was really just a case of the right film at the right time. I saw this exactly when I needed to most and not a moment sooner. And I suppose that’s really…I don’t know what that means.
“She was only fifteen years old…”
#12. Shame (Steve McQueen)
An exquisitely-acted, harrowing portrait of how the downward spiral of addiction only ever results in total isolation from the world around oneself and a crippling breakdown in communication with the ones you love.
The snubbing of Michael Fassbender would be likely to resonate through the ages as one of the great Oscar snubs in the history of the awards show…if anybody really remembered anything like that. I mean, sure, I personally remember Paul Giamatti got snubbed of a Best Actor nomination way back in 2004 for Sideways, but really – who else remembers something like that? Other than maybe Paul Giamatti himself and James Adomian’s impression of him.
But – and I’ve noticed I’ve been doing this a lot more the longer this piece gets – this is not about Paul Giamatti, this is about a movie called Shame which is fresh in my memory and which is an exquisitely-helmed piece of work from a filmmaker who only has one other film to his credit, Hunger, which is similarly well-crafted.
WHOA, SIDEBAR HAPPENING:
I saw this with some friends of mine and we stayed after to listen to a discussion about sex addiction with a couple of sex addiction experts/therapists (I can’t remember which one, probably both). Anyway, the conversation was largely a constructive piece of work that didn’t really add anything to my enjoyment of the film or its themes but did provide some interesting insight into how everyone else in the theater that afternoon perceived it.
And I’m only going to talk about one person/group of people, and only because they’re not here to defend themselves and in spite of the fact that, if you’re reading this, you don’t deserve to be subjected to this rant. Basically, what happened was, one man mentioned that he was bothered by what he perceived to be the film’s connotation of gay sex with hitting rock bottom. He then mentioned that he was, admittedly, a little sensitive to the issue because he was himself a gay man.
I mention this because I hope people aren’t going to take that away from this film. I find that to be a gross misrepresentation of what the film is about and I find it detracts from any discussion of the film as a piece of art. Much like it did in the theater that afternoon.
This is not a film constructed to make some kind of political statement about gay culture, or being gay in America, or how America views gay culture, or what have you. It’s the study of an individual grappling with a particular disorder. In this film, the character is a straight man – so, naturally, as the addiction progresses he’s driven to do things further outside of his comfort zone to get that thrill he needs. It’s like a drug, he needs more stimulation to get the same high each time out.
If the character had been a gay man, the finale of the film would have seen him fooling around with a woman for most likely the first time in the whole film – but then if the film had been about a gay man, the conversation would only be about whether the film was implying that all gay men are sex addicts or that only gay men are sex addicts, etcetera.
Point being twofold – 1) that in spite of one surely-bullshit statistic that roughly 50% of the world is homosexual or bisexual that one of these sex addiction therapists dropped during the Q & A, the bulk of the world actually is heterosexual, and Fassbender’s character in the film is as well possibly to reach the largest possible audience, or possibly just because the director of the film (who co-wrote the script with Iron Lady scribe Abi Morgan) thought it would be more interesting or maybe even because they flipped a fucking coin, and 2) that it demeans the art you’re critiquing to approach it as a perceived affront to your way of life above anything else.
And this goes double for all those ornithologists who can’t get over how they’re portrayed by Steve Martin, Owen Wilson and Jack Black in The Big Year as well. It’s not a movie about people who watch birds, it’s a movie about people.
FIN SIDEBAR.
Shame is an amazing film, and I haven’t even mentioned how adept James Badge Dale (The Pacific, Rubicon) is as playing an absolute cad of a boss or how show-stopping Carey Mulligan’s performance of “New York, New York” is.
If my violent reaction to an innocent question posed by a man who in all likelihood enjoyed the movie is any indication, yeah, I love this film and think it’s incredible.
#11. Bellflower (Evan Glodell)
The most purely vital independent film of the year as far as I’m concerned. It’s sloppy, overlong, and almost embarrassingly personal, but it’s also a pure distillation of a filmmaker’s vision so specific he even built his own cameras to shoot the damn thing and his own cars to…set fire to things with.
This is going to be a controversial pick or something, right? I mean, I don’t blame anyone who sits down to watch this movie if they end up hating the shit out of it. It’s a polarizing thing. For me – and I’m not proud, I’m just too honest – I get the rage that’s put across in this film. Not that it’s a pure, like, ode to rage or some grand emo statement of ‘girls are weird, I don’t understand them, I should kill them’ – although there’s certainly a bit of that here. No, it’s a film that gets across with maddening focus how it feels to be frustrated with everything. With the world, with culture, with your generation, with your life, with your friends, with everything – it’s about all of that. It captures the unfocused rage of youth with a startling, unforgettable clarity that I find moving.
It’s also a film that beat Drive to throwing a Chromatics track into the mix (this one uses the exquisite Halloween-y track, “Killing Spree”). And if only for that – for making me feel like I’m not crazy for having that Italians Do It Better After Dark compilation album permanently in rotation over the past 5 years – this would be a truly special film. The fact that there’s so much more here to chew on is good, sure, but the reason this film is so high on my list is mostly because – at its heart – it’s just about guys who love to blow shit up.
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Wow, I can exhale now. Almost 6800 words later, here we are. It’s almost 1 in the morning and I’m long overdue for some shut-eye.
The goal is to have my Top 10 list up before the weekend. Perhaps the Oscar nominations inspired me to get this out there today (although I’ve had portions of these write-ups written for weeks now), but either way, we’re dangerously close to nobody caring about the best movies of last year anymore, so I figure better late than never.
Some movies I didn’t see for this list include: A Separation, We Need To Talk About Kevin, Project Nim, Rampart, Tyrannosaur, and probably a few others. I will see the first…three of those in the next few months. The latter two, I’m not so sure. Rampart got a surprisingly tepid response for everything other than the Woody Harrelson performance, and Tyrannosaur – though I love me some Paddy Considine – is allegedly bleak as fuck-all.
So who knows. I mention them because they’re not showing up in my Top 10. So don’t get your hopes up, fans of those movies. Because it’s not happening. I put my foot down on January 23rd, and this was a completely arbitrary thing I did but I stand by it. That’s my cut-off date. Because why not.
Tags: 50/50, almodovar, andrew ford's favorite movies of 2011, bellflower, best films of 2011, best movies of 2011, best movies of the year 2011, bridesmaids, contagion, hanna, melancholia, moneyball, paranormal activity 3, rango, rise of the planet of the apes, shame, soderbergh, the adventures of tintin, the descendants, the guard, the skin i live in, the trip, tintin movie, uncle boonmee who can recall his past lives, war horse, x men first class, young adult
