Films of 2011 Top Ten - 10-1

And now, the end is here. And so I face the final curtain. On the final day of 2011 when everybody’s either in a reflective, nostalgic mood or angrily cynical about everyone else being in a reflective, nostalgic mood, I count down my ten favourite films I saw this year. Just a reminding qualifier: these are not films that came out this year. In fact, of the films that came out this year or late last year, we will finish them off very quickly, as I head into...

#10. The King’s Speech (2010, Tom Hooper)

So I can reveal that my favourite film that came out this year - be it a hangover release from a 2010 production that, as usual, we received in theatres months and months after the rest of the world, or a prelude to films that will actually come out here in 2012 but that I managed to see on a totally legitimate online streaming site – was The King’s Speech. To be a bit unfair to the film, it is very typical Oscars bait, characteristic of so many prestige productions of the last twenty years, but in its defence, it is the first truly great example of Oscars bait in a good, long while. Colin Firth (masculine swoon) puts in a magnificent performance as the proud but nervously stammering George VI, while Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter are excellent in support. Tom Hooper directs with immense flair, blending pathos and comedy to create an enthralling story that is both a political narrative and very personal drama. Overall I found it a very uplifting, humanist take on a key figure of the twentieth century, and it richly deserved all the accolades and awards it won.

#9. The Dark Knight (2008, Christopher Nolan)

I think I gave a spoiler about five posts ago that this film was coming up at some point, and while I hate to be a predictable film buff who raves about how brilliant this film is... well, shit off, it’s a masterpiece. I’m not a fan of comic book movies on principle, but I think this is as close as we will ever come to being able to disengage the comic book superhero aspect from the story. The rich ensemble cast is regathered, although Katie Holmes inexplicably morphs into Maggie Gyllenhaal (to everyone’s benefit), and Aaron Eckhart is added along with the late and totally great Heath Ledger, whose performance as the Joker set a new benchmark for creepy villainy. Earlier I said that Jack Nicholson didn’t float my boat in the same role, almost because there was something self-conscious about that that led to disbelief. Ledger here puts in such an idiosyncratic portrayal that remains so deplorable and mysterious that it will continue to haunt and influence this, and other franchises like it. Again, though, the real master at work here is Nolan who has exquisitely carved out a dark morality tale that probes our notions of good and evil, and becomes so much more than just a comic book film.

#8. Oldboy (Oldeuboi, 2003, Chan-wook Park)

Apparently South Korea is the new powerhouse of classy world cinema, although this film is the only one of their recent spree of form that I’ve managed to catch. This highly stylised, violent and captivating film harks back to ancient traditions of revenge tragedy, punctuated with ultra-modern frenetic editing and an ominous aesthetic of despair. Despite its far-fetched premise – man is imprisoned for fifteen years in a small room for no reason and just as suddenly let out into the world – the film manages to twist and contort the continuum of past, present and future into weird, unexpected tangles, but comes out the other end with a coherence that only drives home the impact of the story. Min-sik Choi is spellbinding, brooding and menacing in the lead role, and the immense expressiveness of his face is a key part of Park’s overall aesthetic. At times the film seems jumpy and off-putting, but the huge cathartic payoff at the film’s climax makes it all worthwhile. Crazy film, but crazy good.

#7. City Lights (1931, Charles Chaplin)

From extravagant revenge tragedy to slapstick-based comedy, City Lights nevertheless manages to fulfil an equal spot in the far-fetched premise stakes: Chaplin’s ubiquitous tramp is befriended by an eccentric rich drunk who recognises him when intoxicated but forgets him each morning as he sobers up. Meanwhile the tramp becomes besotted with a beautiful blind flower girl and endeavours to help her in any way he can. What makes this film such a delight is, firstly, unlike a lot of silent film, it is less a set of Vaudevillian sketches, and while it has some classic moments, it just follows a straight path of story and the comedy, physical and otherwise, is all in service of the sweet romantic plot. It’s probably the most accessible of Chaplin’s films to modern audiences, not just because it is genuinely funny, but because the timeless love story is both relatable and very touching.

#6. Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949, Robert Hamer)

This dark comedy masterpiece probably provided the most laughs of any film I saw this year. Combining a withering British wit with an engaging revenge story, it tells the story of the bitter, disinherited aristocrat Louis Mazzini, who vows on his mother’s death to regain his rightful place in nobility. How? Why, of course, by murdering all those who stand between him and the D’Ascoyne inheritance. If, like me, you think of Sir Alec Guinness as Obi-wan Kenobi who may or may not have already been an established British star of stage and screen, you simply must watch this. Guinness is gifted a chameleonic role as all the members of the D’Ascoyne family and the spirit and charisma he injects into each one is a treat to watch. Dennis Price is beautifully sardonic as the coldly plotting Mazzini, and there is a superbly dry, mannered British quality both to his role as narrator and to the way he executes his master scheme. I did have one quibble with the ending but I’m happy to shrug it off; this is a clever, genuinely hilarious film.

#5. Roman Holiday (1953, William Wyler)

So from the darkly comic to the romantically comic. This film probably has the spot it does through our old friend the expectations. That’s not to say I was anticipating my not enjoying this film, but rather that it manages to keep so many tricks up its sleeve, and deftly avoids all the clichés as it navigates through otherwise familiar territory. Audrey Hepburn is sweet and pretty as Princess Ann who decides on a whim to escape the shackles of her royal protocols and go on a bit of bender in Rome. While there she meets down-on-his-luck journalist Joe Bradley – the very dapper Gregory Peck – who with his garrulous photographer buddy soon realises what a story he has on his hands. For the most part, the story follows an amusing arc of hijinks that is ultimately a bit pedestrian, but when we think we know where it’s heading, it pulls out its trump card and reveals itself to be very sophisticated in its narrative structure. Without giving too much away, the moment when Joe reveals his true identity to the Princess is one of the most heartwarming moments captured on film, not just because it’s sweet but because it’s also sad, and not in any way trite. I’m extremely grateful that the film refuses to cop to any of the audience’s wishes – secret or otherwise – for a sunset-ride ending, and it is so much more satisfying and enjoyable as a result.

#4. Grave of the Fireflies (Hotaru no Haka, 1988, Isao Takahata)

In spite of the fact that I’ve discussed many a crushingly depressing film on this countdown so far, I’ve tried to avoid the hyperbole of calling anything ‘the most depressing thing, ever, in the history of anything’. The reason is that that title belongs indisputably and irrevocably to Grave of the Fireflies. The story of two orphaned children trying to live out the final days of world war II in Japan, it gives me cathartic chills of pathos just thinking about it. Since the film begins with the older of the two children, Seita, collapsing in despair in a busy train station saying “that was the day I died”, I don’t think it’s a spoiler to mention that the story doesn’t end happily. However, there is a beauty in the totality of its tragedy, as it opens our eyes to the bleakness and hopelessness of war. It is a credit to this film’s sheer brilliance that I forgot I was watching animation, and a dubbed version thereof, and was just swept along on a wave of raw emotional power.

#3. In Bruges (2008, Martin McDonagh)

Right. Need to reset myself into silly-comedy mode. Again I feel I’m just late to the In Bruges party, but it slipped so stealthily under the radar of non-independent non-cult comedy when it was first released, yet managed to hang onto a reputation that is richly deserved. One of the smartest and funniest films of the past few years, it’s a darkly comic crime caper with a bit of a morality twist. What it achieves, firstly, is a quotability to match Tarantino at his best, with a delightfully coarse Colin Farrell as good as he could ever be. His challenge is met by a sweet, funny Brendan Gleeson, and although the two Irish lads are as entertaining company as you’d hope for, there was a big surprise waiting in the wings for halfway. Having Ralph Fiennes appear only halfway through the film is like having Lionel Messi on the bench to come on at half-time, and in cockney gangster form is brilliant. Although the film had me in love all the way through, I have to say I am a sucker for a story with a whole lot of complex threads that manages to dovetail them all by the conclusion. When all the little parts of this film came together in an explosive manner at the climax of this film, it was all I could do to stop from applauding like a lunatic, while sitting at my desk in a quiet office. I just loved it.

#2. Man on Wire (2008, James Marsh)

I’m obviously not someone who believes you shouldn’t judge documentary and non-documentary films together. I’m also keenly aware that two films from 2008 have squeezed into my top three. Will there be a third? From the moment Michael Nyman’s hauntingly beautiful Fish Beach starts playing at the start of Man on Wire, I was enamoured with this film. The story of tightrope walker Philippe Petit’s quest to walk between the two buildings of the World Trade Center [sic] in 1974, this part-biography part-crime film is magic in its pure essence. Petit’s flamboyant, impish personality is the star as he gesticulates and expostulates all about his love of the tightrope, and how he feels the WTC towers were meant for him to cross them. This is also a tense, exhilarating story with the suspenseful feel of a heist caper as it recreates Petit and his crew of conspirators managing the subterfuge that would find Petit suspended a mile in the air above a busy New York sidewalk during the morning rush hour. The culmination of the act is spine-tingling and awe-inspiring, but what makes the film yet further impressive and effective is the unspoken tragedy that befell those twin structures 27 years after the fact. Marsh’s decision not to mention or reference 9/11 was a brilliant one artistically, as the film is far more emotional as a result of what is not said. For fans of this film (i.e. everyone who’s seen it, come on), I also heartily recommend checking out Kurt Andersen’s excellent interview with Marsh and Petit on Studio 360. Although they basically just explain everything I just said anyway, it’s a great indictment of what a magnificent piece of filmmaking this is.

And so that moment is here... should we take an ad break? Well, drum roll maybe...

#1. Ran (1985, Akira Kurosawa)

There are good films, and there are great films, and then there are those films that take your breath away with the breadth of their mastery. Ran is one of those films, to the point where, while I was watching it in my lounge room one evening, I had to turn off all the lights and put my mobile out of reach, so I had nothing to distract me while I watched. It’s known as Kurosawa’s retelling of King Lear, although according to Wikipedia he came up with the idea organically, before the similarities were pointed out to him. As full disclosure I should say that I, like the Romantic critics, believe King Lear to be the pinnacle of Shakespeare’s achievements but, like William Hazlitt, believe that performance of the play engineers a necessary diminishment of emotional power. What Kurosawa achieves with Ran is not only a conservation of the emotional power of the story, but a rich, complex morality tale that King Lear itself could aspire to. A couple of key artistic decisions where the stories diverge are crucial to Ran’s monumental brilliance. Firstly, although I had immense fun playing Edmund in our school production in 2000, the Edmund/Edgar/Gloucester sub-plot has always seemed to be little more than a sub-plot and ultimately a distraction from the main story. It is completely absent here. Secondly, he portrays Hidetora, the king at the centre of the action here, as a former despot and tyrant (with remnants of his reign of terror lingering in disfigured human form), and so his tragic fall from grace has a poetic and cathartic resonance to it that excels the success of any other previous portrayal of the story. The heirs to Hidetora are sons here, not daughters, which is in some ways an arbitrary decision, but the conflict between the two eldest that ensues as their ambitions (and that of the relevant women involved) outweigh their blood loyalty to each other as brothers becomes the driving force and emotional crux of the film. The fulcrum sequence in the middle of the film, when the warring factions clash and Hidetora is caught in the crossfire, is possibly the most epic and mesmerising ten minutes I’ve seen on film. The sight of a psychologically cracked and broken down old man trudging slowly through two immense armies that part in shock before him, while his safe keep burns behind him, is the most striking and resonant image of the film. It also manages to adumbrate the enormous scale and scope of Kurosawa’s vision, of the destructive and explosive potential of human ambition and the lust for power. Although those minutes alone could account for Ran’s position as my favourite film I saw this year, every second of this masterpiece is just one piece of an enormous, psychologically weighted jigsaw.

And on that note, I wish you all a happy and hearty new year, and raise my glass to more and more movie-watching in 2012. I will be back in a day or two to run down – and trash – all the films considered unworthy of making the top 100 cut, but for all intents and purposes, that is the end of my top 100 countdown.

As a PS, I just noticed that with the exception of the ineligible Man on Wire, all of my top ten are also on the IMDb's top 250. How conformist of me.

Films of 2011 Part 9: 20-11

And we crack the top twenty. How exciting! This is a feasible point where normal, ordinary people who don’t have too much time on their hands may have commenced this countdown. I think I said something similar in my last post, but basically, if you want to ignore everything I’ve said up to this point and regard this as simply a ‘top 20 films of 2011’ feel free to. But alternatively, all my other film reviews were worthwhile as well, weren’t they?

*Crickets*

#20. Children of Men (2006, Alfonso Cuarón)

Again, I was very much simply late to this party. What’s more, I went into watching this with a certain degree of scepticism, because it just sounds like one of those films I would like, largely because of my famous love of dystopias. Having said that, a work of dystopian art has to be really well constructed to fly within my radar, so this film’s cracking my top 20 should indicate that, yes, this is really well constructed. For the most part I did find myself a little wearied by the sullen and depressing tone of the film, but the thrill-ride chase sequences allow it not to get bogged down in introspective miasma. While I hate to elevate a film’s status due to a particular sequence, there is a ten-or-so minute sequence late in the film, where Clive Owen is trying to find his pregnant ward through a bombed-out tenement while opposing factions of a civil war are caught in each other’s crossfire, and you sit there mesmerised through this brilliant sequence... and then it strikes you about halfway through that not only is it gripping cinematography but it’s all one long fucking tracking shot. But it’s not a standalone great part of an otherwise average film, just a breathtaking moment that elevates an otherwise very impressive film.

#19. Notorious (1946, Alfred Hitchcock)

Given how often I’ve mentioned Ingmar Bergman in this list (a full twice), it’s about time his namesake Ingrid got some love here. This is the first and only Hitchcock to make this list, probably because I’ve seen most of his major works prior to 2011, but it’s up this high for a reason. I think that of all his films, this one manages to blend genre the best, and can be enjoyed equally well by fans of spy-thrillers and fans of romantic comedy, and for the same reasons. The chemistry between Bergman and Cary Grant is beautiful, and there are so many hilarious moments here where one or other of our protagonists is acting out of wounded pride or feigned apathy, where in an ordinary setting one would want to crack their head against a wall for their stupidity. Here, though, set against a backdrop of an undercover mission to bust a ring of drug smugglers, it works electrifyingly well, and the dichotomies of love/loss and life/death are brought to their most satisfying conclusion – I would say more so than in North by Northwest. This is up there with Hitchcock’s finest and newly among my favourites.

#18. Raising Arizona (1987, Joel & Ethan Coen)

Although Joel is solely credited on IMDb with directorial duties here, I’m going to fall into that critical camp of just lumping the Coen brothers together with everything. I seemed to have had an unofficial catch-up with the Coens this year, even though I never made a big thing of it, and this one was a great highlight of the year. Falling more into their comic file, this simple premise of two white-trash lovers – one an ex-cop and one an ex-criminal - who are failing to conceive a child out of their love is taken into customary Coen territory when they decide to steal a baby from a couple who just happen to have nine newborns of their own. Remember in my discussion of True Grit how I mentioned my theory of their films falling into two camps? This one obviously falls into the ‘one person dies, and that person is a testosterone-soaked renegade avenger caricature’ variety, and that particular circumstance could only feasibly exist within the twisted universe of the Coens. This film wins because it is told with such loving and endearing humour, and because Nic Cage and Holly Hunter are just so simply charismatic.

#17. Festen (1998, Thomas Vinterberg)

On the subject of loving, endearing humour and charismatic characters, look no further than this hilarious Danish teen-sex romp. The more insightful among my readers will have spotted a couple of outrageous lies in that last sentence: basically everything except ‘Danish’ and ‘teen-sex’ only maybe replace ‘sex’ with ‘rape by father’. To the faint-hearted and easily shocked, I can think of more pleasant ways to spend two hours than in the company of the family who gather in Festen to celebrate their patriarch’s sixtieth birthday. One example of a more pleasant way would be the two hours following the act of hacking off your nipples with secateurs. However, for those who, like me, at least appreciate a harrowingly depressing and tawdry family drama, this is as powerful as they come. All the hallmarks of European dogme cinema are here but with raw, brutal honesty unmatched by anyone whose name isn’t Lars von Trier. As the wine flows at the party, so too do the festering family skeletons come pouring out of the closets. A remarkable film, but if you’re in the mood for something a little more whimsical, check out the three-hour extended cut of Puppies getting scalded with hot steel instead.

#16. The Thing (1982, John Carpenter)

Okay well it would appear I’ve leapt from one level of the grotesque to another. This was another of my top 250 catch-up and I would have to call it the most pleasant surprise of the lot. While the customary gore and fibrillating alien tentacles (I’ve seen enough Hentai... etc.) are present, what struck me most about this film was its wonderful subversion of generic conventions, namely that of the country house crime fiction story. As with any typical Poirot mystery, we are presented here with a limited cast of characters on an isolated arctic research station that are essentially intruded upon by a highly dangerous ‘escapee’ from the outside. The twist is that the escapee is some level of alien mutant-like chameleon that is able to take on the form of its prey, so not only are the occupants cut off from the outside world, but are facing the threat from within their trusted ranks. The suspicion and tension is built expertly as the characters confront and deal with the threat, both from outside and from each other. If you can see past the gore, this is a very accessible mystery thriller, and it also finally managed to answer my question as to why Kurt Russell was ever famous and popular. The answer is because he’s awesome.

#15. The Fog of War (2003, Errol Morris)

Winner of best documentary at the 2004 Academy Awards, and the second Errol Morris film I caught this year, this electrifying piece of political exposee is a must-see for anybody interested in US foreign policy, twentieth-century history, or with even a passing interest in anything at all. Essentially a series of snippets of conversation with Robert S McNamara - a key figure in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations - his thoughts on the Vietnam war, Kennedy assassination and American foreign policy in general are expounded in Morris’ characteristic probing, questioning style. McNamara is filmed in what is at first an intimate light, which as the subjects turn more morally troubling and vague becomes an intrusive and expository one. McNamara is, however, refreshingly forthcoming and uneasy with some of the significant decisions he himself made, that changed the face of recent history. He is, indeed, an ideal subject for a documentarian, and Morris makes full and fascinating use of him to create a profound and memorable film.

#14. Witness for the Prosecution (1957, Billy Wilder)

Another of my top 250 catch-up (plenty more to come, too, I should add), this adaptation of Agatha Christie’s famed courtroom mystery is just a simple delight. Pivoting on a nicely bombastic performance from the great Charles Laughton, what makes this film so entertaining is the obvious fun being had by the cast. This is not to say there is any self-conscious fourth-wall breaking, but there is simply so much fervour from all of the players that is so easy to ignore until the denouement of the piece, where the audience is in as much awe as the relevant characters. Tyrone Power is deceptively good as the accused man, while Marlene Dietrich puts in a remarkable performance as his cold, calculating wife. I think in the hands of anyone but Billy Wilder, this film would be relegated to the ash-heap of film history as a fairly typical courtroom drama. But because of the sardonic and cynical wit that Wilder so effortlessly injects, this becomes so much more than a simple genre piece.

#13. Win Win (2011, Thomas McCarthy)

So the moment is upon us, maybe unexpectedly soon, when I must announce this as my favourite 2011 film – at least so far. Why? A few obvious reasons – one, it’s impossibly sweet without being schmaltzy. Two, it’s neat and tidy without being contrived. Three, it’s got Paul Giamatti in it. On top of these, there are the less obvious and more personal ones. It’s nice to see a film that features drama and conflict, guilt and dereliction of duty, without pummelling the themes home in an over-dramatic way. Instead, Tom McCarthy gives us a cast of characters, all flawed in their ways but all loveable in others, and a narrative thread that is free from flab: there isn’t an unnecessary moment here, or a too-long pause, or a false line. It’s basically genius filmmaking all around put here to service a quaint and sweetly funny story. Nothing simpler, it just made me smile.

#12. Thelma & Louise (1991, Ridley Scott)

For a long time this film was near the top of my must-watch list, and continually got bumped down by new and potentially more exciting prospects. I was quite thrilled that when I finally did take the plunge early this year that this film was more brilliant than I could have hoped. The story of two women who embark on a well-earned weekend of crazy shenanigoats that goes quickly sideways into far more crazy than expected, it establishes a crucial male/female divide early on in the film. Susan Sarandon’s Louise is the tough, sensible and embittered friend to the more frivolous and impulsive Geena Davis as Thelma, while the men in the story vary from the downright contemptible Christopher McDonald to the surprisingly decent Michael Madsen and Harvey Keitel. An interesting gender exploration but also an exquisite tragedy (we all know how it ends, right? We’ve seen the Simpsons take-off), this is a cynical film with a surprising amount of heart.

#11. Blood Simple. (1984, Joel & Ethan Coen)

If you’re getting tired of my Coen brothers entries, I can reassure you that this is the last, the winner of that particular contest. So I retrospectively checked out their premiere, another deceptively simple premise that quickly explodes into an impossible labyrinth of Coen vicissitudes. Blood Simple is most comprehensively of the ‘bloodbath’ school of Coen films, and I should confess that I find myself more drawn to the bloodbath variety, simply because it allows the brothers more room to explore the fragility of life and the random quality of the events they contrive for their characters. This amazing debut film employs a very small cast of characters for a double-crossing murder caper that far exceeds its apparent scope. Frances McDormand and Dan Hedaya give enjoyable performances but the highlight is most definitely the squirmingly good M Emmett Walsh as Hedaya’s hired gun. This film should be used far more as inspiration for how a story should drive a film, and how themes and characters will develop if you tell the story very well. It’s a winning formula we see over and over again from the Coen brothers, but very few other directors seem to be paying attention.

With that block down, I must leave you now in anticipation of my final reveal of my top 10 tomorrow. Until then, I wish you a hearty Friday evening.

Films of 2011 Part 8: 30-21

So I’m winding down the countdown now (or ramping up, I’m not sure which) and we’re starting to get into that territory of separating the truly great and memorable films from the pack. In all honesty, I’ve actually disliked every single movie I’ve reviewed so far, and what follows are my first genuinely positive thoughts. That, by the way, is what is called upping the ante. How an idiot does it.

#30. The Wrestler (2008, Darren Aronofsky)

I realise this is a simple case of a great film that everybody loved when it came out, and I was just late to the party. I also realise this is the third film I’ve put on this list that features some kind of performance fighting, but as anyone who’s seen this will know, this one is quite singularly brilliant. Mickey Rourke puts in a powerhouse performance as the ageing Randy “The Ram” Robinson as he struggles to come to terms with his failing health and tries to fill the voids in his life. This is the second Aronofsky film in the space of five countdown blocks I know, and it’s a coin-toss really to decide which exerted more power over me. Here Aronofsky displays not just visual flair but a genuine intimacy with his subject, and manages to create a masterwork that is touching and emotional at the same time as it is just exhilarating fun.

#29. Sherlock Jr (1924, Buster Keaton)

One of my top 250 catchup and possibly the easiest film to watch at a meagre 63 minutes. I have to admit a secret love of really clever physical comedy, and to me Buster Keaton is in a league of his own. Here he plays a smitten cinema projectionist who daydreams about being a detective, and uses his far-fetched fantasies to try and win back the girl of his dreams. As with all silent comedies, there’s a huge silliness factor here but if you’re willing to forego the sophisticated appreciation of the filmic art for a while this is a really delightful film. It works largely through the physical genius of Keaton, who puts himself through the trials to create laugh after laugh. It’s undeniably a simple story, but when it’s as well told and entertaining as this, one can’t help but wonder why more films don’t attempt the same.

#28. Black Swan (2010, Darren Aronofsky)

Hang on, what is this? Three Aronofsky works in six films? He’s only made five! Okay, Jez’s sorting program, you’re the boss. I guess it shows what I think of Aronofsky as a filmmaker, that on the enjoyment factor (because remember, these films are ranked on my enjoyment rather than idiosyncratic quality) he doesn’t quite reach the pinnacle but they all become clumped around the ‘well above average’ mark. The thing about Black Swan that I saw disappointingly few critics discuss at the start of this year is that the story itself is tired and hackneyed, and there is nothing particularly clever about the script. Where the film succeeds so brilliantly is in the gloomy feel and flurrying pace that Aronofsky sets for it, that sucks you in and puts you comprehensively through the wringer. I personally thought Natalie Portman’s performance was a little overblown and in some ways just going through the melodramatic paces that, again, owe more to Aronofsky than anybody else. Don’t get me wrong, she was good, but I was disappointed when Best Actress went to this more overt and highly charged role than someone else who I might mention in, say, one film’s time? I’m not afraid to say that all the credit for this excellent thriller should go to the director, who weaves a brutal psychological ordeal out of otherwise quite conventional threads. Although actually, part of the credit has to go to that other well-known –ofsky/ovsky whose haunting Swan Lake score pervades most of the drama here.

#27. The Kids Are All Right (2010, Lisa Cholodenko)

Every year, it seems, there is an unconventional but highly socially relevant comedy that kind of becomes everybody’s darling around awards season. I’m speaking of Juno, Little Miss Sunshine and this year I’d say 50/50 at least believes it is. While The Kids Are All Right won a lot of acclaim and kept cropping up in the Oscar nods, I feel it didn’t quite win the love of previous years’ representatives in that category I’ve created. However, I’d have to rank it up as probably my favourite. There’s a simplicity to the way this story is told, with none of the surrealism of scriptwriting that seems to invade comedies these days, exaggerating some characters’ foibles to increase the comic factor. Here the comedy grows organically (ha, because Mark Ruffalo’s character is an organic nursery guy, haha) from the situation and is pulled off masterfully by the wonderfully awkward performances. Ruling the roost, though, is the towering performance of Annette Bening who again missed out on her long-overdue Oscar, I think unfairly this year. Her on-screen persona here is so finely nuanced and subtle that it’s not surprising, albeit disappointing, that Academy voters managed to overlook it while watching Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis make out. I’m just going to put out a challenge: watch the scene at the dinner party, after Bening has visited the bathroom and she returns to the table – shocked, confused, in a whirl, but striving so hard to maintain her customary composure while her world seems to crumble around her – and tell me that there is a microsecond of falsity in her face.

#26. Mary & Max (2009, Adam Elliot)

Reviewing this film reminds me of that line from Black Books – “I was immolated in a firewall of charm and charisma”. If ever a real-life example could merit that review, this is it. Part of my top 250 catch-up, it’s an apparently little-seen claymation from Australia that tells the story of a lonely young girl with an alcoholic mother who picks a random name out of a New York phone book to write to. The name she picks out is Max Horowitz, a similarly lonely old Jew suffering from Asperger’s. The two then strike up a firm friendship via written correspondence as Mary grows up and Max grows old. The film begins with a childish abandon to the world of fancy in a way reminiscent of Jean-Pierre Jeunet or Noel Fielding, but soon begins to navigate the murky and uncertain waters of adult problems, and Mary & Max’s relationship turns complex and interesting. I felt at first that this film was a little too charming, in that it’s almost smugly aware of its own cutesy factor. Looking back though, I recognise the charm as a false flag, and that the story being told here is actually very dark and in some ways disturbing. Yet it somehow manages to achieve the impossible feat of telling this dark fable in an immolatingly charming way.

#25. Hannah & her Sisters (1986, Woody Allen)

For those who are tired of my Woody Allen references, I can assure you that this one tops the heap for this year, and he won’t receive a mention beyond this. Hannah and her Sisters tells the story of Hannah, and her sisters. Okay, let’s start again. More importantly, it tells the story of a year in their life, as they learn and explore themselves, their wants and needs and vices. Mia Farrow, Barbara Hershey and Diane Wiest all bring a gutsy charisma to each of their flawed sisters. It seems a shame that Woody Allen is being harangued these days for his inability to write women, when you look back at the simplistic beauty of his Chekhovian trio in this film. Admirable support comes from the director himself and of course the ultra-smooth Michael Caine in his first Oscar-winning performance. What makes this film stand out, though, is that in spite of all the problems, the lies and hostility exhibited throughout, it’s turned somehow into a sweet, romantic film with a warm and fuzzy ending. Yet nothing about it seems contrived or insincere; it’s just a cleverly wrought story by a true auteur.

#24. The Ides of March (2011, George Clooney)

Let me just come right out and say it: George Clooney is an excellent director. Yes, he’s charming and silver-haired and deliciously sardonic as well, but to this day he has not only not made a bad film, but he is building himself a very solid oeuvre of sophisticated drama that any filmmaker could envy. This, to my mind, is his best to date. Gripping, clever and brilliantly ambivalent, he avoids all the glittering temptations that might confront someone trying to make a taut political drama. There is no political agenda here, no good guy/bad guy line drawn in the sand; there are just ordinary, imperfect people feeding their ambitions, and confronting the situations they are faced with. The cast here is as good as it gets: to my mind, having P S Hoffman and Paul Giamatti as rival campaign managers is cinematic ecstasy, and add to that the youthful charm and gravitas of Ryan Gosling in the lead role and you have yourself a sure thing. To put it simply, this film is great in a way that all films should aspire to be.

#23. Do the Right Thing (1989, Spike Lee)

Again, I have to confess something, friends: this was the first, and remains the only, Spike Lee joint I’ve smoked. But what an intoxicating and addictive first taste this was. Twenty-four hours of the hottest day of the year in a small neighbourhood of Brooklyn where the communal melting pot of African- and Italian-Americans is sitting on an overheating stove ready to blow. There’s a wonderful sense of impending doom to this film, as we watch the pressure build and bubble it’s clear that something bad is about to happen, but we don’t know what. Lee directs with a pow-pow panache that works best here with its large cast of well-drawn characters and vignette structure. While the film is drenched with searing social and political commentary, it also manages to be accessible entertainment, and there is a dark, cynical irony cast over the whole situation that I found irresistible. Fight the power!

#22. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951, Elia Kazan)

This is the film that sparked off my top 250 catchup, not being a part of it per se but marking the moment when I realised how many truly great films I’d just never bothered to watch. Another inner-city drama of simmering tensions, the catalyst here is the wounded and self-important character of Blanche, and her intrusion onto a rickety bridge between two people already set to snap. It’s a real marvel to watch a young, sexy Marlon Brando in his prime as Stanley Kowalski, working so well with a melodramatic Vivien Leigh starring role as Blanche. When I watched this, I was given far more bang than I expected (obviously, I had in my mind Ned Flanders singing “Can’t you hear me yell-a, you’re puttin’ me through Hell-a, Stella!”), and the arc of the story is such that the climax is a genuinely crushing blow. This film gave me a new way of defining an idealist: an idealist is someone who hears Stella deliver her final lines, and believes her.

#21. The Thin Blue Line (1988, Errol Morris)

In a year when I tried to catch up with as many documentaries as I could, it’s fitting that I lead into my top twenty with one of the absolute classics. Demonstrating that film, when used correctly, can change the world, Errol Morris’ hard-hitting journalistic documentary confronts us with the story of a hitchhiker who got himself accidentally charged with the murder of a police officer due to being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. Morris, in his probing style, doesn’t take an obvious position, but simply presents us with the evidence as it wasn’t presented in court – i.e. Through the visual lens of a camera, recreating some of the scenarios as told by eyewitnesses, and exposing the inconsistencies and circumstantial nature of much of the testimony. This film famously managed to get the hitchhiker’s conviction overturned, and blatantly inspired a generation of filmmakers and journalists to seek the uncomfortable truth at all costs. On its own, however, The Thin Blue Line stands as a monument of narrative reportage.

We now stand on the brink of the top 20, and my excitement levels have risen to 'mildly bemused'. Tune in later today as I crack into that barrel of truly outstanding films.

Films of 2011 Part 7: 40-31

I realise after writing the last two posts yesterday that I’ve gotten to the stage where I’m no longer qualifying my opinion by saying anything bad about films, so I recognise that the only place to go from here is to the land of ever-increasingly effusive praise. This is a bit odd, since I actually don’t feel that enamoured with some of the films in this chunk of 10. But anyway, you can’t question Jez’s sorting program.

#40. The Towering Inferno (1974, John Guillermin)

Until I saw this film, I think my only exposure to disaster films was in spoof form, in sketch comedy shows and, of course, Airplane! (that’s Flying High to my Australian friends) So again my expectations came to the fore as I anticipated token coloured characters, histrionic clichés and sappy, manipulative scenes involving orphaned children with extremely rare respiratory disorders. Okay, so there are children and token coloured characters (O.J. Simpson, in fact!), but to my surprise this was actually a very dark film, and there was far more death, despair and actual gravitas vis-a-vis the whole building-on-fire thing. I mean, okay, O.J. Simpson handing adorably old Fred Astaire the puppy belonging to his new-found romance who fell out of a lift and died is kind of the most ridiculously sappy piece of schmaltz ever put onto film, but aside from that I was impressed. Oh, and is that the sound of male ovaries going into overdrive? (ovarie-drive, boomtish) It must be the presence of Paul Newman... Oh, and Steve McQueen as well? *masculine swoon*

#39. Dracula (1931, Tod Browning)

Okay, so we’ve reached that part of the countdown where my enjoyment of a film can be comically disproportionate to the film’s intrinsic quality. So is the case with Dracula, whose spot on this list is due to a couple of things: firstly, the camp factor, which is cranked up way beyond the 11-mark here; and secondly the circumstances in which I saw it, namely at the Sydney Festival 2011 with a live string ensemble playing a new score composed by Philip Glass (who also led the ensemble). That aside, the fact that this isn’t made as a comedy shouldn’t discourage one’s enjoyment of it as a most hilarious piece of celluloid. Bela Lugosi is magnificent, in a campy and hilariously un-magnificent kind of way, and what may have passed for creepy horror back in the thirties is so ridiculous and overblown now that the laughter produced retains not a trace of catharsis but consists entirely of scorn. And yet, what absolute fun this film is.

#38. True Grit (2010, Joel & Ethan Coen)

As a bit of disclosure I should say I haven’t seen the original John Wayne version of this film, but also I should mention that I love westerns, to an extent completely out of proportion with the fact that I was brought up in suburban Sydney. So when you put two masters of the art like the Coen brothers in front of a tough and macho western setting where every man (and, in this case, young girl) is in it for themselves, you know I will enjoy. This is less a fascinating exploration of human nature as it is an adventurous and, at times, violent romp through the western genre, with plenty of cynical humour courtesy of Jeff Bridges and a gutsy lead performance from Haylee Steinfeld whose Oscar nod for her ‘supporting’ role was largely the product of cold committee reasoning. There’s a dichotomy regarding Coen brothers films (and I will expand upon this later, as well); namely in their films, either pretty much everybody dies, or in spite of everybody’s best efforts, only one person will die – usually some testosterone-soaked ‘avenger’ caricature. Credit to the brothers that this film falls vaguely in the middle – it’s definitely more of the bloodbath variety but not more so than any other western, and the lead characters are allowed to live to drive home the message of the film.

#37. The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004, Niels Mueller)

This is another film I saw on an inspiration from Filmspotting, specifically when they did their top 5 Sean Penn performances (as a sidenote, shit and bugger, I just realised I somehow completely forgot about putting Dead Man Walking on this list, which would have fallen around this spot as well; anyway...). This film is, as a whole, a bit questionable in quality. It tells the story of a misfit loser whose marriage and job are at best rocky, and who throughout the course of the film hatches an irrational plot to try and assassinate Richard Nixon (I hope that’s not a spoiler, I mean, it’s the title of the damn film). The odd thing is it’s hard to see what the point of the film is; the obvious comparison is Taxi Driver but there is none of the social commentary and complexity of which Travis Bickle is so emblematic; this guy’s just a loser. However, the emotional power and magnetism of Sean Penn’s performance carries this well beyond the finish line. There’s a scene where his character tracks down his estranged wife over the phone, only to have her new lover answer. Watching his indignation as he tries – and fails – to retain his dignity is quite simply one of the most heartbreaking scenes I can recall, and it typifies the strength and power of this otherwise OK film.

#36. The Social Network (2010, David Fincher)

Oh, okay, here it is. The doyenne of critical acclaim in early 2011 makes an appearance on my list. I feel there’s not a lot I can add that hasn’t already been said a million times before, except to talk specifically about what I enjoyed. While most of the time I do look for sympathy with characters, I admire a film such as this that is willing to present us with a cast full of arseholes of varying completeness. What’s more, I enjoyed the feeling this film left us, namely that the whole concept of Facebook is poisoned by the egomaniacal ambition surrounding its inception and founding philosophy. But more specific to the film, another crackling Aaron Sorkin screenplay is put through its paces by the very deliberate, but at times almost frenetic, directorial style of Fincher, and while at times the snappiness of the dialogue leaps beyond the bounds of realism, the story is told so entertainingly that it’s pretty easy to shrug it off.

#35. The French Connection (1971, William Friedkin)

Yes, another ‘I should watch Best Picture winners’ entry. I’ve always hated this film, for absolutely no reason than that it beat out A Clockwork Orange for that very award in 1972. Stupid reason, I know, particularly when this film stands on its own as a masterpiece of its genre. Mostly just cop drama with a bit of gritty gangster-film thrown in, this is basically just a very well-made crime caper. Gene Hackman is excellent as the hard-hitting Popeye Doyle, but the main star of the film is the suspenseful action sequences. There’s possibly the most exhilarating car chase I’ve encountered, as well as a tense but hilarious tailing sequence where the villain is trying to shake off his dogged pursuer. Just a crime drama, but what a crime drama.

#34. Shane (1953, George Stevens)

Okay, so apart from my great love of westerns, I’m a bit confused as to why this film ended up so high. There’s certainly nothing bad I can say about it, but in all honesty I have to say it has all the classic hallmarks of the genre with nothing particularly innovative. That said, the titular Shane, played by Alan Ladd, is up there with the best of the loner cowboy heroes, and there is a perfect amount of ass-kicking to please the audience. Basically just a bullies vs villagers tale reminiscent of Seven Samurai, this film tells a fairly simple story very well. Even while writing about it, I can’t quite figure out why it would be this high, but I can say there’s never a dull moment and it falls neatly as one of the great pioneers of what could be called the 'revisionist western' genre. Check it out if you want to disagree with me.

#33. The Fountain (2006, Darren Aronofsky)

I’m not anticipating too much vitriol for this one, unless actual esteemed film critics read my blog, because it seems that anyone with credentials in this field hates this film, while the one person I know who’s seen it (me) loved it. The obvious trouble with it is that it is very ambitious, trying to combine a love tragedy with a mystical cosmogony, but in spite of its grand scope it really spoke to me. The pathos of the love story was obviously going to get to me, but I felt myself more moved by the mystical, almost exegetic sequences in space, while the combination of the three time periods – Mayan, present-ish day and future - really worked to draw out and expose the key themes of love, death and immortality. Hugh Jackman is as good as I’ve seen him here, and the philosophical nature of the film made sure it stuck in my mind as I puzzled over it for a long time afterwards. One final note: I think Aronofsky’s visual genius is put to its best use here, in what is arguably his most stylish film.

#32. Margin Call (2011, J.C. Chandor)

This is another film that hasn’t yet hit our shores, and I imagine it may not for a while. But let me just say it’s definitely worth a look. What a romp! It tells the story of 24 hours in not-quite-Lehmann Brothers prior to the onset of the Global Financial Crisis, as the full extent of the toxicity of the firm’s assets spreads rapidly up the chain of rich, bloated bastardry. Vile characters populate the film, but the cast is world class and makes the story captivating. Kevin Spacey, Paul Bettany and a surprisingly good Simon Baker lead into none other than the über-cool Jeremy Irons with a huge late effort from the bench. While the film has obvious problems with dumbing-down (a lot of the film is people looking at off-screen computer monitors and saying “holy shit” as if one screen could capture the complexity of the economic crash), it’s one of the most gripping dramas I’ve seen this year.

#31. Persona (1966, Ingmar Bergman)

Part of my top 250 catch-up and one of the hardest to get my hands on (guess where I eventually found this one. Go on, have a guess. Wrong. YOUTUBE, of all places.), this is another of Bergman’s existential classics. Hang on, scrap that, that’s bad film-writing. This is a Bergman film, therefore it’s existential, duh. Masterfully worked with a creepy Gothic edge, it tells the story of an actress who has apparently been shocked into silence, and the naive young nurse who tends to her. As the story unfolds, the relationship between the two women is revealed to be more complex than realised, and there is a haunting psychological ambiguity to the whole payoff. This is hypnotic, existential filmmaking at its finest.

Unfortunately this morning we had to dump a sofabed and buy a new one, so my fervent hope of having two posts written and only two to write hasn't worked. Two will hopefully follow tomorrow leading up to the grand finale on New Year's Eve. For now, peace out, and don't try to swallow anything larger than a tennis ball.

Films of 2011 Part 6: 50-41

Two posts in one day? Wow, I must be some kind of super-prolific blog guy. Or maybe I have a wife working from home and little better to do. Anyway, we’re into the top 50, which is very, very exciting, in the context of this countdown I’m doing. In a wider context, it’s not very exciting at all. But anyway. Here comes number 50.

#50. Top Gun (1986, Tony Scott)

Of all the films I still haven’t seen – and there are many of those, each day more seem to come up on my radar – I don’t think I’ve gotten quite as much of an “Oh my GAWD you’ve never seen that?” response as when I mentioned Top Gun. Well, that is at an end. Cheesy 80s-ness aside, there is something necessarily classic about this film. The famous lines, the singing-in-bars scenes, even the montages with “Take my Breath Away” in the background all just combine to become more than the sum of the parts. It’s popcorn filmmaking in its purest form, and impossible not to enjoy, at least a little.

#49. Before Sunrise (1995, Richard Linklater)

I mentioned this film was coming, didn’t I? Well here it is. A brave film when it first came out, this is basically a couple of hours of two young people walking around Vienna, talking about stuff. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to feel ways about stuff. It is, though, terribly romantic, and it’s low-key low-budget filmmaking at its best. It wouldn’t work without the chemistry of Hawke and Delpy, but also the way the film works itself out keeps you wondering about the eventual fate of the two – will they stay? Will they go? Will they meet again? It’s hard to separate it from the context of its sequel now, but I think on its own this is one of the most romantic films I’ve ever seen, yet there’s nothing schlocky about it at all.

#48. Birth of a Nation (1915, D.W.Griffith)

I’d be preparing myself for more flaming for putting this film so high, but I suspect less is known about it. Suffice to say, this out-dated and quite horribly racist silent-era film tells the story of two families during the American civil war – one from the north and one from the south – as well as the following years, when evil, lazy black people threatened to take over the country until those brave, courageous saviours of America (you know, the Ku Klux Klan?) rushed in to take it back for the people. Okay, vile sentiments aside, this is above all a fascinating historical document, and a very absorbing story. It is quite possibly bad taste for me to enjoy this film, being as I am unaffected by racism, but its crude dating aside, I have to admit, it did very much intrigue me.

#47. From Here to Eternity (1953, Fred Zinnemann)

Another of my ‘I should watch Best Picture winners’ series, From Here to Eternity speaks to a couple of my guilty pleasures; hopelessly romantic films, and boxing. Essentially a parallel story of two soldiers in the second world war and the women they love, this works as well as it does due to the standout performers in the lead roles – from the beautiful Deborah Kerr and Donna Reed to the equally beautiful Burt Lancaster and Montgomery Clift – and the enjoyable on-screen relationships formed. This is another of those films whose classic status is hard to deny. Every moment seems iconic.

#46. Henry V (1989, Kenneth Branagh)

I’ve done enough studying of Shakespeare in uni and high school to be mostly anaesthetised to the tedium that one can experience from filmed adaptations. More importantly though, I can spot a well-made one a mile off, and Ken Branagh’s tight, suspenseful and dramatically-charged film of a play I don’t actually know that well is a big winner in those stakes. The director himself is very magnetic as the young king Henry, while a quite ridiculously talented cast of British acting royalty past and present (including Christian Bale in a ten-second sequence that apparently warrants a mention on the DVD case) chews the scenery. Aside from the interminable epilogue, this is above all an exciting film; something that can’t really be claimed by a lot of Shakespeare productions.

#45. The Caine Mutiny (1954, Edward Dmytryk)

This was sort of a random choice for watching, and also a bit of a surprise at its height in this list, but I can’t deny this was a thoroughly enjoyable movie. This is thanks in no small part to the delightful performance of Humphrey Bogart as the inept and slightly deluded commander Queeg who finds himself with a mutiny on his hands when his command credentials are justifiably questioned. It’s very much a film of three parts – the lead-up to the change in command, the ‘life under Queeg's command’ which takes up the most part, and the aftermath of the mutiny – and it’s cleverly told, with an enjoyable ambivalence to the ending. It does come across as a bit preachy, but the overall feeling is warmly received.

#44. L’Avventura (1960, Michelangelo Antonioni)

From adventure on the high seas to adventure of the slow-paced, hypnotic quality where virtually nothing happens for two hours. This was the first, and still is, the only Antonioni film I’ve watched, and in spite of its being part of that stripped-back cinema verité clique that I don’t much enjoy, it had me absorbed throughout. A group of free-thinking-and-loving youths takes a pleasure cruise somewhere off the Italian coast, and the brooding young Anna goes inexplicably missing. The trouble and anxiety that ensues is exquisitely told by the planed-down performances and cinematography, and again the ambivalence of the ending – far more subtle in this case – keeps it with you. Not everybody’s cup of tea but at its best I found this film entrancing.

#43. Batman Begins (2005, Christopher Nolan)

More vitriol, perhaps? I’m not sure. This was another big surprise of the year. I watched it purely because I felt I had to catch up with The Dark Knight which I also hadn’t seen (Oh, you haven’t seen TDK on the list yet? Well it may be coming up later), and I’m glad I did. Not just because this neatly sets up the characters and the interplay between them, but because it happens to be a thrilling and masterful action film in its own right. Yet another mention of Christian Bale? *sigh* okay, but only because you’ve been good. He is extremely good as the caped crusader in this film, and the support cast is wonderful (making allowances for Katie Holmes, obviously). But the star of this film is obviously the inimitable Chris Nolan, who casts a dark, magical pall over Gotham and takes this franchise right into the dark depths of Gothic psychology that Tim Burton – for me at least – failed to do.

#42. A History of Violence (2005, David Cronenberg)

Wow, two 2005 films in a row. The first of what would become three-and-counting collaborations between director Cronenberg and Viggo Mortensen, this creepy and violent thriller is brilliant and memorable in its confrontational nature. Presented with a seemingly idyllic little town in rural America, the citizens' peaceful existence is blown up when Mortensen’s character foils an armed robbery with his badass shooting-the-fuck-out-of-people skills. Where did this humble, straight-laced member of a quaint little community acquire such badass mofo-ery? Ah, therein lies this film’s intrigue. Without spoiling too much, I should say that Ed Harris is excellent in creepy mode and William Hurt is as good as I’ve ever seen him here. The final scene of this film is one that stuck in my mind for a very long time afterwards and remains there still.

#41. Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse (1991, Fax Bahr/George Hickenlooper/Eleanor Coppola)

People who have talked classic films with me should know how much I adore Apocalypse Now for its raw, cataclysmic power. This documentary-look behind the scenes of one of the most notoriously chaotic and troubled film shoots is a must-watch for any fan of Coppola’s classic. Blending actual footage from the Apocalypse Now location shoot in the Philippines with retrospective interviews with cast and crew, the line between fiction and reality becomes blurred as we encounter all of the horror, the horror, experienced by all those concerned with this hugely ambitious project. No particular point-of-view is expounded, but there doesn’t need to be, as the story itself is so scintillating. Is there a similar documentary about Apocalypse Now’s equally-adored cousin Aguirre, Wrath of God? I wait in slavering anticipation.

And speaking of waiting in slavering anticipation, with that I leave you until tomorrow, when we shall do this all again. Not with the same films, I should point out. Different ones. Trust me, it’ll be fun.

Films of 2011 Part 5: 60-51

Okay, so due to work commitments (yes, on a public holiday) and grocery shopping commitments, and then social commitments (damn you, good friends!), I didn’t get around to posting a blog block yesterday at all. Furthermore, I didn’t – as expected – get around to posting a second block on Monday which means I now have to do two days of double postings. Which is fine; I come to you today from my laptop in the lounge room via a thumb drive (we don’t have Wi-Fi) with the fifth block of ten to get us halfway there.

Just a forewarning: I am expecting much wrath and indignation as a response to some of the films in this block.

#60. Cars (2006, John Lasseter, Joe Ranft)

*Braces for first hot wave of seething resentment*

So I’ve put Cars higher than Ratatouille (and many, many other things; Bec is still indignant that Mansfield Park was so low). The trouble is, there’s this thing called expectation. When they’re high – such as ‘Brad Bird directs a film about a rat cooking in a French kitchen’ – they’re vulnerable to disappointment. When they’re very low – such as a unanimous agreement that something is by far the worst Pixar film and why did they even bother blah blah blah John Lasseter is worse than Hitler etc. – but something is a well-told story, with plenty of comedy and pathos, enjoyable characters, a great voice cast including, of course, the love of my life Paul Newman... Well, the fact is you just start to like something a whole lot more, and are prepared to defend it. I hope I have done that.

#59. Fanny & Alexander (1982, Ingmar Bergman)

If Bec ever reads these posts, I will face more anger from her about this film’s positioning after I stupidly decided to sit her down in front of this to watch it with me. However, although neither of us really enjoyed it, the ensuing debate where I found myself taking the position of apologist, oddly opened my eyes to dimensions I hadn’t appreciate while watching. Marketed as Bergman’s most accessible film (why is completely beyond me, to be honest), this very loosely-autobiographical film tells the story of a family of performers separated by the death of the patriarch, and the children (the titular duo) being forced to live with their mother’s new husband, a strict clergyman. The dimension I discovered in defending it was simply the ambiguity which runs through the central theme, which is ‘what sort of life is worth living’? While the film appears on the surface to present the point of view that an epicurean lifestyle of fun and bacchanalia is more worthwhile than the simple and pure life of devotion, if you take a step back and look at the evidence itself – rather than the way it’s presented – the shadow of doubt lingers. For the reason alone that it presents opportunity for debate, I promote this film.

#58. Hugo (2011, Martin Scorsese)

Recently given a nod by the Golden Globes for best picture, this is another film with the potential for debate. Billed largely as a children’s film but far more accessible as Scorsese’s love note (well, one of many he has made) to early cinema. The obvious comparison for this film is Giuseppe Tornatore’s Nuovo Cinema Paradiso due to the similar themes of childhood fascination and enchantment with the moving picture, and I think the comparison does justice to both films. What’s most glorious about Scorsese’s piece is the glamour and magic of the aesthetic. I think it’s one of his most stylised films to date, but also one of his most rewarding (full disclosure: I’m not a big fan). The two leads are enjoyable while admirable support is given by Ben Kingsley and Sacha Baron Cohen. I think it would be hard for most people not to be a little charmed by this film.

#57. Modern Times (1936, Charles Chaplin)

Part of my top 250 catch-up and also part of my Chaplin binge I experienced when I discovered you don’t need to fork out $36 for a Chaplin DVD. I mean, $36, really? This film is remembered largely for one scene where Chaplin’s tramp gets trapped inside the cogs of a giant factory machine, but is enjoyable for a bunch of other reasons. Paulette Goddard, who plays his romantic interest is quite beautiful and because of her waifish look (ie. No ridiculous Vaudeville makeup) appears strikingly modern in this, and the love story between the two of them as they struggle to cope with the pace the world is growing is sweet, and funny.

#56. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977, Steven Spielberg)

Just one of those films I felt I should watch. I enjoy a good no-frills narration, and I feel that this film achieves it admirably. There are some highly stylised sequences, particularly featuring Melinda Dillon and her son, but ultimately the storyline follows the premise of Earth’s first encounter with extraterrestrial life in as straightforward a manner as possible. I know I’m making this sound more boring than watching continents move, but what I’m trying to say is that the end result, with a subdued and hypnotic pace, and where the mystery lingers at the film’s conclusion, is far more effective than throwing shitloads of modern CGI and explosions and expecting the story to follow. Are you listening, Roland Emmerich?

#55. Moneyball (2011, Bennett Miller)

Another of the potential Oscar winners this year, this look at the Oakland A’s manager Billy Beane trying to reverse the fortunes of the unsuccessful baseball franchise using an untested statistical method is far more enjoyable than it would appear on paper. Baseball and statistics? Thanks, but I’ve got some continental drift to watch. Talky as it is, Moneyball is held together largely by more crackling scriptwork from Aaron Sorkin who just has a gift for making the unwatchable captivating. Jonah Hill puts in a very nice turn as Brad Pitt’s assistant, and while I think some appreciation of baseball is essential, it’s a very good sports film. One of the best, in fact.

#54. White Heat (1949, Raoul Walsh)

OK, so firstly let me say, when I ran Jez’s sorting program to order this list, I got given the direct choice between White Heat and Heat. I chose this as the superior film, but I did think the two would make an interesting double feature. Both gangster films with scintillating showdown sequences, I do pick this as the deeper and more complex film. This is largely due to Heat’s clear self-awareness as part of a genre, while White Heat is still treading the waters. As a result it’s very much a good guy-bad guy aesthetic, but the twists and turns of the plot are fast-paced, and James Cagney as the mother-obsessed Cody Jarrett is just... well, creepy. Top of the world, ma? Well, #54. Not bad, White Heat.

#53. 50 First Dates (2004, Peter Segal)

*Braces for a firewall of murderous indignation with the power of seven Hells*

Remember what I said about expectations? Now just picture my expectations when confronted with Adam Sandler, in any form. Firstly, the main enjoyment of this film centres around the chemistry between Sandler and Drew Barrymore, which we’ve already seen work well in The Wedding Singer. Secondly, while the plot is... hmmm... is ridiculous too strong a word? It astonishingly manages to elevate itself from low-brow rom-com territory to become at times a touching drama (with a highly contrived premise). The unfortunate thing is that this film is a product of studio marketing committees, and so they had to ruin it by letting Rob Schneider within 300 light years of it (that’s about the minimal distance from him for me to feel comfortable) and throw in a stupid musclebound Sean Astin. Why? Oh, because apparently the sweet and charming parts of this film don’t sell tickets. Needs more stupidity. I might jump into FinalCut Pro or something and see if I can edit Rob Schneider out to make this a pretty great film. The truth is, I really enjoyed this.

#52. Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011, Sean Durkin)

One of my more anticipated films of this year in spite of the fact that it doesn’t seem to be getting much academy love, this movie almost managed to pull an anti-50-First-Dates in being a crushing disappointment to my high expectations. However, I realised how powerful it was when I woke in the middle of the night a few nights later just completely unnerved by the possibility that John Hawkes’ character from this film might be around. It’s a haunting and challenging watch, with a beautifully subtle lead performance from... hang on, is that an Olsen sister? And I just love any film that stays with you, and while I expected it to anyway, this film definitely does.

#51. Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989, Stephen Herek)

I’m not expecting vitriol for this one, but if I do, well haters gonna hate right? Oddly enough, we caught this as a double feature on Go or 7 mate or something, following 50 First Dates. The strange thing is, I grew up watching this film’s sequel Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, it used to be one of my favourite films, and I’m not sure I ever fully got it. What’s more, I had never watched the original until earlier this year. And, wow, I hate to praise a film for this and this alone, but damn it’s funny. Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter are instantly likeable as the hapless slackers Bill & Ted and the farcical clash of cultures as they travel through history gathering ‘material’ for their history paper just makes me smile. Socrates, anyone?

So that’s all for now. More will come later today, hopefully with a little less pre-emptive defence against the flaming of me, and more nodding and stroking beards and saying ‘Hmmm, what an interesting point being raised’.

Films of 2011 Part 4: 70-61

This should hopefully be the first of two posts I put up today, it being the day of staying at home and cleaning up all your loose ends post-Christmas. Unless, of course, the cricket is too captivating... But haha, no seriously, the cricket won't be captivating at all.

#70. Drive (2011, Nicolas Winding Refn)

I kind of wish I had caught this film in a cinema instead of on a totally legitimate online streaming site, as the languid pace and intense camera techniques would surely be more effective when you're forced to pay attention, whereas sitting on a computer makes it easy to be distracted. That said, this is a very tight, suspenseful thriller, with a creepily catatonic lead performance from Ryan Gosling. If it is up for any Oscars, I'm hoping Albert Brooks will get the nod; not just because he's playing so far against type but because he's just such a delightful villain here.

#69. Ratatouille (2007, Brad Bird/Jan Pinkava)

I may incur some wrath here, but I was surprised at how high up this is. I think it's probably being towed along by an unfair advantage of being part of the Pixar family that I love without reservations (I will incur more wrath in about nine films' time I'm sure). But if truth be told, apart from the fun and the magic and a couple of really fine voice performances - above all one of my favourite Twitter boys Patton Oswalt in the lead - I didn't enjoy this nearly as much as I'd thought. A couple of the contrivances really irked me, particularly the love sub-plot which I didn't know even existed until suddenly the two characters are kissing in the middle of an argument ("What the...?" would neatly sum up my immediate reaction). It was undeniable fun though, and was always going to be.

#68. The Untouchables (1987, Brian De Palma)

So again I have major problems with this film. I get that there's supposed to be this major hard-boiled film noir aspect to it where you can't trust most of the corrupt police force, but am I really supposed to believe that Eliot Ness finds it appropriate to use a team of five...oops, four, oh, no, now there's only two... people to bring down arguably the biggest crime syndicate of the twentieth century? Again, contrived plotting aside, the mood and wash of this film is gorgeous, and a couple of sequences - not least the famous pram-down-the-stairs slow-mo - save it and make it well worth watching.

#67. Warrior (2011, Gavin O'Connor)

Another of this year's potential Oscar nods, I'm now thinking it less likely this will be up for anything. It would be a little disappointing if Hardy, Edgerton and Nolte are all ignored, but at the same time I wouldn't be surprised. The film on paper is so unlikable, dealing with what I can only see as a fad of MMA cage fighting in a way that is really just stock-standard cliches from Rocky to Raging Bull and up to last year's The Fighter. Yet the acting is so solid, with Hardy as a monster of on-screen charisma, that one can even forgive the sometimes laughably absurd plot - that is, if one wants to.

#66. Midnight in Paris (2011, Woody Allen)

A lot of 2011 films in this block, eh? This is an odd film in the midst of Allen's work in that it works mostly as a besotted love note to Paris from Mr. Manhattan himself. It's amusingly plotted and well-paced and does include a lot of those enjoyable Woody Allen hallmarks that keep you entertained. I'm not sure that Owen Wilson fully worked for me in the lead, but the standout moments are the cameos as Paris-based luminaries of the 1920s who lend the film the Bohemian aesthetic of which Allen seems so enamoured. They are really the heart of this piece as well as the internal mechanics.

#65. Princess Mononoke (Mononoke-hime, 1997, Hayao Miyazaki)

I don't think I've incurred enough wrath in this post yet, so let me just say I don't like most of Miyazaki's films. Whoever decided for the world that Spirited Away was some kind of masterpiece just because it made no sense was an idiot. With that in mind, I was pleasantly surprised at this film. The whole fantastical element seemed far less laboured and more organic with the story, which in turn was well-worked. I unfortunately could only find this in a dubbed version, but it didn't detract too much. It's a very entertaining adventure.

#64. Dazed & Confused (1993, Richard Linklater)

I went on a major Richard Linklater spree earlier this year, owing to the fact that I had seen a full zero of his films. This high-school graduation coming-of-age what-do-we-do-with-the-rest-of-our-lives-who-gives-a-shit-let's-get-drunk story is one of the best of the genre, and I'm not even sure why. The plotting is haphazard and most of the humour fairly juvenile, but there just seems to be more of an intellect behind the hijinks, and the cast of characters come across as more than just stock cliches. It ultimately left me a little hollow (in a 'what was the point?' kind of way) but still entertained.

#63. Sullivan's Travels (1941, Preston Sturges)

I have been trying to get my hands on something by Preston Sturges by years. It seems that no distribution company outside the US is interested, and I can't for the life of me understand why. This is not only an interesting movie historically as it seems to be one of the earliest films about the film industry, but it's a jolly good romp as well *puffs on cigar*. Essentially just a screwball comedy in which the famous film director of what we would now call 'popcorn entertainment' tries to make a movie about the real America - misery, hardship, poverty - and keeps getting foiled. There's a bit of dating to it, particularly the ending, but it's well worth a look. I encourage everybody to ask for more Preston Sturges at their local film distribution company's head office.

#62. Before Sunset (2004, Richard Linklater)

What was that about Richard Linklater? This follow-up to his 1995 Before Sunrise (spoiler alert: it's coming up later in the list) reunites the American Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and the French Celine (Julie Delpy) after their one evening of romance nine years ago. As they rekindle the old chemistry, there is the heart-aching tension as we know that, again, the clock on their time together is ticking down. Like its predecessor, this is a film about two people walking and talking together, so if you're into big explosions and spectacular CGI, you should definitely, definitely check out this film. I guarantee you'll like it. Totally. Just do it. I'm going to stop talking now.

#61. Heat (1995, Michael Mann)

It's hard to enjoy this film without really enjoying the clash between Pacino and De Niro (I must say I was surprised to find out that so much of the publicity behind this film revolved around it). But of course, I was sucked in. The two of them, detective vs. thief, sitting across a table from each other trying to 'negotiate' the terms of their showdown, is electric. Add in the rest of this ensemble class and the great Michael Mann, plus - let's face it - a rollicking heist plot and it's a unmistakable winner. With so much effusive praise, why is this down at #61? Well, I'm not really that much into long, tense, high-stakes crime capers, even though this is one of genuine quality.

And with that we come to the end of another harrowing block of ten. Tune in probably later today as I round out the bottom half of this list, and then we get into the really interesting bits.

Films of 2011 Part 3: 80-71

And it's a very merry Hanukkah everybody. Here is my present to you: the third instalment of my exhilarating countdown.

*Pauses to absorb riotous cheers, women throwing underwear, etc.*

#80. Blazing Saddles (1974, Mel Brooks)

Now I love a good Western, and I love a good spoof, so naturally I should expect to love the combination of the two? Yes and no. As with all of Mel Brooks' work, at times the silliness factor here becomes a bit self-conscious, where the actors are too aware of having to overplay everything. But there are plenty of laughs, and the final showdown sequence is quite brilliant. I feel like all spoof films need the mock-gravitas of a Leslie Nielsen (ideally the Leslie Nielsen) in order to work on every level.

#79. The Major & the Minor (1942, Billy Wilder)

Ah, accidental pedophilia. Such a rich font of comedy potential. Seriously though, this borderline-creepy screwball comedy about an out-of-pocket working girl disguising herself as a schoolgirl to ride the train half-fare would probably not work without Billy Wilder at the helm. He manages to extract all the humour from the scenario without shying away from the troubled premise. Ginger Rogers is almost believable in both personas but there's still a bit of disbelief in the idea that nobody - from Ray Milland's titular major to the boys at his military academy - would notice that something was seriously afoot.

#78. Carnage (2011, Roman Polanski)

Another film I think hasn't yet graced our shores but one I will recommend when appropriate. Two pairs of parents meet in an apartment to have a frank and open discussion about a schoolyard spat involving their two sons. Basically Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? ensues without the same level of absurdist dialogue. With such a claustrophobic setting it's essential for the actors to carry the film, but when you're looking at Kate Winslet, John C Reilly (in his second 'hapless husband' role this year) and Jodie Foster you're in good hands. The great Christoph Waltz, however, really takes it to another level, and his smarmy, smartphone-obsessed lawyer is the shining star here.

#77. Nights of Cabiria (Le Notti di Cabiria, 1957, Federico Fellini)

Another of my top 250 catch-up, I went into this one a bit apprehensive since I'm not the biggest Fellini fan. To my surprise I mostly enjoyed this one, with the sassy mini-dynamo Giulietta Masina adding heart and soul to yet another largely incoherent Fellini fantasy. I was on the verge of believing this could have been an exception to his 'carnivalesque' oeuvre (he says with a very pretentious tip of the cap to Bakhtin) with some semblance of realism entering the mix towards the end... but then, oh the final sequence. It even has a carnival in it for no reason.

#76. The Best Years of our Lives (1946, William Wyler)

Another in my top 250 catch-up which coincides with an ongoing 'maybe I should watch all the Best Picture Oscar winners' project, this somewhat depressing film deals with three veterans of WWII (one with hooks for hands) who all return to the same small town after the conflict, and their struggles to reintegrate into 'normal' life. It's got a largely spirited message but the characters at times seemed so flawed that I didn't quite buy the ambivalence they were supposed to be feeling. It might be more an interesting historical statement now than a perfect film, but it's well put together and worth a look.

#75. American Psycho (2000, Mary Harron)

This is one of very few instances where I've read and enjoyed the book before encountering the film, so my main apprehension going in was that half the book was completely unfilmable. Fortunately Mary Harron struck a decent balance, not shying away from the shock factor while omitting Easton Ellis' more electrifying sequences (plenty of in-puns here for fans of the book). The film dwells more on 80s excess in general than on Pat Bateman as a figurehead for the culture, but the satire is very nicely toned, and the business card sequence is one of the most brilliantly hilarious I've seen this year.

#74. Crimes & Misdemeanors (1989, Woody Allen)

Oh dear, I have a feeling I may have to mention Anjelica Huston again. There, I've done it. This was classic Woody Allen territory, with flawed characters, both jaded and unrequited romance, a delightfully pretentious git played by Alan Alda, and a central theme of trespass and its various consequences. It's hard to cover such an ensemble piece in a few sentences, but suffice to say that this film and its excellent cast did not disappoint.

#73. My Cousin Vinny (1992, Jonathan Lynn)

I was quite surprised to find out after watching this that it was directed by Jonathan Lynn (of Yes, Minister fame), but at the same time it does carry similar hallmarks of hapless characters comically struggling out of their depth. Joe Pesci is the cocky but infelicitous New York lawyer called in to defend his cousin and his friend who are wrongly accused of murder in the deep south. Marisa Tomei in her Oscar-winning role puts in what I can only describe as a lovely performance, and while the film has certain long-bow contrivances, it's primarily an amusing and well-paced fish-out-of-water comedy.

#72. A Christmas Story (1983, Bob Clark)

This is such an iconic film, I think, to people who grew up in a certain time and a certain place. Watching it now for the first time, it's undeniably dated and quite childish. But having said that, you have to have a soft spot for a sweet Christmas story, particularly one that's told with a good sense of humour. I think the voiceover narration by writer Jean Shepherd drives this film and keeps it grounded, where otherwise it may have had a tendency to come across too whimsical and cutesy. Appropriate that I'm running through this one on Christmas day.

#71. Muhammad & Larry (1980, Albert and David Maysles)

And I round off this block of 10 with a sad and uncompromising documentary from the inimitable Maysles brothers. It deals with the commercially-driven push for Muhammad Ali to come out of a well-earned retirement for one last fight against Larry Holmes - a fight he had no chance of winning. It's a tough indictment of the world of boxing and its fans that there is this hero worship and love of spectacle that ultimately leaves at least one man bashed and bruised and gasping for breath. The Maysles hold a steady, subtle hand as we watch the drama unfold naturally.

And with that, I bid you a fond adieu until the morrow, in which I will probably put up two chunks of ten in order to catch up and finish the countdown on New Year's Eve. I shall now leave you slavering over that thought like the dogs you are.

Films of 2011 Part 2: 90-81

Well now that I'm in full countdown mode, I imagine very little introduction is required. So I shall simply kick on with the next block of ten. Eh?

90. Hud (1963, Martin Ritt)

Ah, Paul Newman. He makes men's clothes fall off just by looking at them. Which is why this film was quite a pleasant surprise, to find him playing a troubled, reckless and potentially irredeemable youth stuck in a small town that doesn't want him. The main trouble I had with this film is, firstly, I have such trouble detaching myself from Paul Newman's charm that I can't fully suspend disbelief when he's in this character. Secondly, it was a little bit slow in the middle. Aside from that it's worth checking out for his performance.

#89. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004, Wes Anderson)

I am quite a fan of Wes Anderson, and while this particular less-acclaimed of his works was a bit over-ambitious and befuddled at times, it remains a good romp. I think by this stage I've seen enough of Bill Murray doing depressed and middle-aged, but solid support comes from Cate Blanchett and the great Anjelica Huston (who will crop up again later in this post I'm sure). There are some very funny Wes Anderson-esque lines ("Don't shoot him. He's an unpaid intern") and a fast-enough pace to carry this over the line. Nevertheless, I was actually a bit surprised this wasn't lower on the list.

#88. Animal Kingdom (2010, David Michôd)

It was a big surprise to me to hear that a small-budget Australian film was doing the box office rounds in the US earlier this year, with Jackie Weaver subsequently receiving an Oscar nod. However, knowing the success of the Underbelly series, it seems that we Aussies do gritty crime pretty well. And this was no exception. A subdued wash over the film gives it an air of simmering tension, and while the muted performance of James Frecheville seemed a bit alienating at first, the whole thing gets a big pay-off in the end. It's hard to talk about why this film is good without spoilers but all I can say is it's worth sticking it out if you're bored at any time.

#87. Out of Sight (1998, Steven Soderbergh)

Okay, this is the first of the films I watched purely on the recommendation of Filmspotting which has a love affair with Soderbergh and puts this film in their 'pantheon' with such classics as Citizen Kane and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Why? Well, I'm still not sure. This is a fun crime heist with a surprisingly good chemistry between Clooney and Lopez, but even with the Don Cheadle factor thrown in, it's still just a fun crime heist. It's entertaining, at least.

#86. The Fighter (2010, David O Russell)

Okay, I really wanted to hate this film. It's an Irish Raging Bull. Or, really, it's every 'poor kid grows up in the wrong environment yet still makes good' film since, I don't know, Rocky? I'm sure even further back than that. Trouble is, you put David O Russell at the helm and throw in Christian Bale, Amy Adams and a wonderful Melissa Leo and not even Mark Wahlberg himself as the lead and foil can ruin it. There's ultimately nothing particularly innovative about this and I'm kind of disappointed that this was Russell's latest choice for a film, but it's a good, reliable boxing movie.

#85. Scarface (1983, Brian De Palma)

This is obviously one of the films I really needed to catch up with, this late in life. I mean, I've already missed the stage of my early 20s where you can run around yelling "Say hello to my little friend" and for it still to be cute. If I can mislead you down the garden path for a second, this film was everything I expected it to be. Which is to say, it was alright. I found Tony Montana to be vile enough that I stopped caring what happened to him about halfway through the film (even before you're meant to) and when you've got half of a three-hour film to get through without caring, it will end up as #85 on your list. A lot of people have this at the top of their 'all-time favourites' list.

#84. The Battle of Algiers (La Battaglia di Algeri, 1966, Gillo Pontecorvo)

Part of my top 250 catch-up, this down and dirty look at the events leading up to the Algerian push for independence from France manages to be both tense and epic at the same time. We're not given much of an insight into character as it's told more as a sequence of vignettes about freedom fighters/terrorists (depending which side of the Mediterranean you're on) doing what they do - namely blowing shit up. It didn't excite me as much as it could have, which is why it's as low down as it is, but intrinsically it's excellently put together and definitely worth a look.

#83. Devdas (2002, Sanjay Leela Bhansali)

One of two Bollywood films I caught on SBS2 this year, this seemed at first to be going in conventional romantic love-story directions before alcoholism, marital abuse and prostitutes starting being blended in (also, is there always a prostitute? What's with that?). This film is quite insultingly long, but I appreciated the grand scale of it and it definitely had me mostly gripped throughout. Plus, Bollywood music and dancing is just joyous, isn't it? Can I get an amen on that?

*Crickets*

#82. Mansfield Park (1999, Patricia Rozema)

Now, I'm preparing to check my testicles at the door when I admit that I can be partial to a well-told Austen story. And while this film adaptation of 'the comedy Jane Austen loved best' would have benefited from having a Colin Firth in it (ideally the Colin Firth), it was cute and mostly fuzzy, adeptly capturing the mood of the age, and the casting and performances were pretty much great across the board. Can I just say as well in its defence, who wouldn't love a story about a poor girl trying to marry her cousin?

*Crickets*

#81. 50/50 (2011, Jonathan Levine)

So I know this film hasn't made it into Australian theatres yet (Whoo for totally legitimate online streaming sources) so I'll try not to spoil it too much *cough The Butler did it cough*. While this is undoubtedly a charming pathos-filled comedy, it fell down a bit for me by the fact that it was so aware of itself as a charming pathos-filled comedy. Gordon-Levitt plays the young man who is diagnosed with a rare form of spinal cancer, and his performance is deliberately muted throughout as he tries to deal with the news. My favourite part here was - as with Steve Zissou - the wonderful Anjelica Huston as his mother, while I didn't wholly care for Seth Rogen as his best mate. He's just playing Seth Rogen, but to be honest the bro-chemistry (bromistry?) didn't quite mesh for me.

So that's the second chunk done. I hope you all have a very enjoyable Christmas Eve and I will be back with a surprise present for you all tomorrow (hint: it's #80-71).