10. Skyfall (Sam Mendes)
When I saw
Casino Royale, I thought that Bond series had gotten as good as it was going to
get – and the fact that Quantum of Solace was mainly a disappointment seemed to
prove that to me. But then Sam Mendes came on board as the director, and he
elevated the series to the highest level it has ever been (yes, I am saying
Skyfall is the best Bond film ever). Daniel Craig plays the most frail, human
Bond ever – a man who is driven to do what he must, even if he’s not sure he
can. Javier Bardem is one of the best Bond villains ever – no plot for world
domination, just a demented man with mommy issues hell-bent on revenge. Judi
Dench turns M into a real character, who goes from super bitch into a truly
sympathetic character. And the action sequences in the film – from the opening
chase sequence to the final shootout – were easily the best of the year. What
Mendes and company have done for Bond is similar to what Nolan did for Batman –
bring him into the real world, make him a real character, and given the film
more thematic relevance than ever before. Skyfall is Bond for the 21st
Century. Now that we know how good this series can get, we have to demand it
every time.
9. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Nuri Blige Ceylon)
Nuri Blige
Ceylon’s Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is a film that reminded me of many of my
recent favorite crime dramas – David Fincher’s Zodiac, Bong
Joon-ho`s Memories of Murder, Cornielu Porumboiu`s Police Adjective and Cristi
Puiu`s Aurora (and for that matter, Zero Dark Thirty). As different as all of
these films are what they share is that they all center on a crime (or crimes)
where the closer you look, the less you seem to know or understand them. This
is a film where a group of men head out in a car into the Turkish countryside.
One of the men is a confessed murderer and he is going to lead the others – a
doctor, a cop, a prosecutor and a driver – to the body of his victim. But of
course, everything starts to look the same, and they are on the road all night.
Throughout the night, the different characters show their different sides –
they start out defined by their jobs, but become much more. There is male
bonding and humor sprinkled throughout the film, but the overall tone is one of
sadness and waste. There is a magnificent sequence when they stop for dinner,
and the one key female character – the beautiful daughter of their host –
becomes a symbol of so much more for each of the men. Eventually, the case is
solved, but Ceylon takes things a scene or two longer than we expect him to –
right to the autopsy table, which just serves to confuse things even more. This
is a long, slow, low key crime drama – but an absolutely brilliant one.
8. Moonrise Kingdom (Wes Anderson)
There is
always a danger in Wes Anderson films that the style is going to overwhelm the
substance. His films are so meticulously crafted and designed – with his unique
production and costume design, his use of music, his slow pans and deadpan
humor that sometimes, he loses sight on the story and characters. But with his
last two films – The Fantastic Mr. Fox and now Moonrise Kingdom – Anderson has
struck the perfect balance. There is no mistaking Moonrise Kingdom for anyone
else’s film – it is clear from the opening sequences – one inside an Anderson
dream house, and another at the strangest boys scout camp ever put on film,
Anderson’s style comes through right from the beginning. And his theme is
similar to – dysfunctional families and social misfits. And yet, I’m not sure
he has ever used these elements as effectively as he does in Moonrise Kingdom.
For one thing, he sets the film in the 1960s, which suits his sensibilities
well. For another, he tells a sweet, touching love story between two young
teenagers that recall the storybooks one of them carries around with them. Anderson
takes his cue from Jean-Luc Godard’s Pierrot le Fou (it’s no mistake the film
takes place in 1965, the year that film was released), and he uses a similar
color palette, costume design and wonderful French music that Godard used – and
of course, Godard’s film was also about young lovers on the run. The film
contrasts the pure innocence of the world of the kid’s romance, to the messed
up world of their parents and the rest of the adults in the film. The result is
a beautiful film – and a heartfelt one. Anderson has put together perhaps the
perfect Wes Anderson film.
7. Holy Motors (Leos Carax)
Leos
Carax’s Holy Motors is both a love letter to, and a lament on the limitations
of cinema. In the film, Denis Levant proves to be the hardest working actor in
the world, as we watch him leave his large home looking like any other business
man, and get into the back of a stretch limo. His driver (Edith Schob) talks to
him of all the appointments he has that day – which we watch him go through one
at a time. His job is an actor – he takes on many different roles during the
course of the day from homeless woman to man in a motion capture suit to
murderer to his victim to subterranean psychopath to an angry father to a man
regretting his past love to a father of a strange family and others. But if he
is an actor, who is the audience? Carax’s film has an old theme – all the
world’s a stage – but from the strange beginning of the film, with Carax
himself unlocking a door on a faceless audience looking up at a movie screen –
it’s clear this is a movie about movies, and about their audience. On one
level, the movie is a celebration of the movies, and all they can do. On
another, Carax seems frustrated that they can only do so much. Holy Motors is a
fascinating, funny, sad, exhilarating, one-of-a-kind movie going experience.
6. Compliance (Craig Zobel)
Compliance
is a tricky moral puzzle of a movie that asks the audience to put itself in all
the characters shoes at one point or another in the movie, and asks a BIG question:
At what point do you start to question authority? For the people in this movie
(and the real life case it is based on) the answer is not soon enough. The
movie is about the impossible but true story where a man who claims to be a
police officer called a fast food restaurant and told the manager they had a
complaint about one of their staff members stealing from a customer, and the
manager needed to take them in the back room. As the movie progresses, the man
on the phone asks one horrific thing after another of the manager and the
“accused” employee – from searching their pockets, locker and purse, to a strip
search, and eventually going as far as sexual assault. What writer-director
Craig Zobel has accomplished here is quite brilliant – he slowly ratchets up
the suspense to an almost unbearable degree. You sit there staring at the
screen, wanting it to end, wanting to look away, but completely unable to. He
is aided greatly by the performances – Dreama Walker as the abused employee,
who makes you believe why she would do what she does, Bill Camp as the
manager’s lunk-headed boyfriend who actually commits the assault and Pat Healy
as the strange voice on the other end of the phone. But no one is better than
Ann Dowd, who gives one the year’s great performances as the manager, who she
makes you completely, understand. She does what she does out of a mixture of
jealously and a desire to feel important – and she conveys the complex series
of emotions with subtle movements of her face. It is a remarkable performance
at the heart of the great (mostly) unseen film of 2012.
5. Lincoln (Steven Spielberg)
I wasn’t
expecting Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln to be the film that it is – and I mean
that in the best way possible. Lincoln is perhaps Spielberg’s most intimate film
– a film that takes place mostly in dark, dank back rooms, that cinematographer
Janusz Kaminski brilliantly captures using natural light. Daniel Day-Lewis’
Lincoln is both the larger than life President that we know from history books,
but also far more human and real. This is not the epic I was expecting – full
of battles and speeches – but a film about what takes to lead America,
something that hasn’t really changed much since Lincoln’s time. They were right
to not release the film before the election – otherwise the film could have
become a political football for idiot pundits on both sides to kick around
(see: Zero Dark Thirty), but coming right on the heels of Obama’s re-election,
the film is a necessary reminder of what it really takes to lead. The
screenplay by Tony Kushner is simply masterful – juggling the largest cast of
the year and giving so many of them a great moment to shine. Spielberg is great
at making huge epic films – and with Lincoln he proves he make a historical
movie on a much more intimate scale – and made one of his best films in years.
4. Django Unchained (Quentin Tarantino)
The
criticism of Quentin Tarantino has always been that his films, as entertaining
as they are, are wholly self-contained – not about anything in the real world,
but simply about movies. It never bothered me very much, but perhaps it bugged
him since in his last two films, Tarantino has expanded his universe to add
real world relevance to his violent, revenge driven narratives. Inglorious
Basterds is Tarantino’s masterpiece – the film that where he gave his twin
loves of language and cinema into real thematic resonance. Django Unchained
isn’t quite at that level, but does something similar –re-writing history in
bold, bloody violent strokes. This is Tarantino’s angriest film – perhaps
because as an American, he can distance himself from the crimes of the Nazis in
Basterds, but cannot distance himself from his own country’s national shame of
slavery. Tarantino’s blood splattered spaghetti Western about a freed slave
(Jamie Foxx) teaming up with a good German (Christoph Waltz) to get back his
wife (Kerry Washington) from the vicious, vile, cruel slave-owner (Leonardo
DiCaprio) – and kill a whole bunch of other bad white people – is the year’s
most entertaining film. It still contains all of the hallmarks of Tarantino’s
movies – the dialogue scenes that crackle, the expert performances, the
violence, the relentless pacing, the dark humor (none darker, or funnier, than
a sequence of Klan members complaining about their lack of ability to see
through their masks). But it also an angry film about America’s violent past –
a film that wants to rub your nose in the racism, and acts as a corrective to
films like Gone with the Wind (as well as the idiots who want to “downplay the
racial aspect” of slavery when it taught to school children). Spike Lee
shouldn’t be complaining about a film like Django Unchained – he should be
trying to make one.
3. Zero Dark Thirty (Kathryn Bigelow)
On one
level, Zero Dark Thirty is the most suspenseful thriller of the year. Written
by Mark Boal and directed by Kathryn Bigelow, Zero Dark Thirty is a procedural
about the long, slow, years long hunt for Osama Bin Laden which finally came to
an end when Seal Team 6 stormed his compound and killed him. As a thriller,
Zero Dark Thirty is brilliant. But it’s more than that. It is also, with it’s
portrait of Maya (Jessica Chastain) a Zodiac-like tale of obsession, as one
woman sacrifices everything else in her life in order to get the answer to the
question that eats away at her. But Zero Dark Thirty is more than just that as
well. It is also a movie about what America did to capture Bin Laden, and win
the War on Terror (which still rages on). The people who are complaining about
the movie because of specifics are missing the forest for the trees. No one can
deny that to win the War on Terror, America, for a time, tortured detainees.
That’s in the history books folks, sorry. And no one can deny that to kill
Osama Bin Laden, what America essentially did was send an assassination squad
into a foreign country to take him, and everyone else around, out. That is what
that brilliant final sequence on the raid on the compound shows, in ruthless,
bloody detail. Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t judge – which angers some who somehow
need to the movie to demonize torture, because apparently they’re not smart
enough to know it’s wrong without the movie telling them so – but it does
present what happened. Whether the ends justified the means – as many will
think – or whether the cost of winning was America losing it’s moral authority
– which many will think – is up to the viewer to decide. Zero Dark Thirty is a
brilliant thriller, an exciting action movie, a character study on obsession
and a film that leaves the big questions about America’s guilt or innocence to
be decided by the viewer. It is a great movie.
2. Amour (Michael Haneke)
Michael Haneke’s Amour may just be the hardest film to
watch of 2012. It tells the story of Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant)
and Anne (Emmanuelle Riva), a long-time married (happily, we gather) couple in
their 80s, whose life together unravels when Anne gets a stroke, and slowly
wastes away to nothing. While I agree that this is the most sympathetic film
Haneke has ever made, I don’t really think that he has become a humanist here –
his film still punishes the characters, and the audiences, for their sins (like
almost all of his other films), it’s just this time that sin is something far
more universal – growing old. Depending on how you look at it, Georges is
either a selfless man who gives up everything for Anna, or a selfish prick, who
slowly shuts out the entire world outside their apartment, and wallows in
self-pity and eventually lashes out. You could not ask for two better
performances that those delivered by Trintignant and Riva. As someone who
watched his own grandmother die slowly as a result of multiple strokes, I found
Riva’s performance heartbreakingly accurate. And Trintignant has an even more
difficult role, as he is the one who has to watch his wife waste away, and
react – driving the more towards its inevitable conclusion. Haneke’s precise,
controlled direction, and his haunting ambiguous screenplay are both masterful
– and Amour is one of his very best films. A true masterpiece.
1. The Master (Paul Thomas Anderson)
When Sight
& Sound released their results of the longest running Greatest Films of All
Time Poll last summer, I made a list of my own 10 Greatest Films of All Time.
What surprised me about my own list which I whittled down from over 100 initial
candidates, was how many of my very favorite films have a dreamlike quality and
logic to them (Apocalypse Now, Sherlock Jr., Taxi Driver, 2001: A Space
Odyssesy, Mulholland Dr., Three Women, Vertigo were all on my list, and in some
ways have the dreamlike quality I am referring to). I’m certainly not saying
that Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master belongs on that sort of list (it’s too
early for that), but I do feel it has the same sort of dreamlike quality and
logic to it. The Master is the year’s great enigma of a film – I have read so
many different interpretations of the film, from those who think it’s a
masterpiece to those who think it’s the Emperor Has No Clothes film of the year
– and all of them make me want to see the film again and again, to parse
through its mysteries. This is the most haunting movie of the year – and the
one that just won’t leave me alone. The film reminded me of Kubrick’s Eyes Wide
Shut – as both films (at least in my interpretation) tell their story entirely
from the point of view of its main character – even when that character is not
actually a part of the scene in question. Because of the way that both Kubrick
and Anderson have made their films, it is impossible to tell just what actually
happens and what happens only inside the head of their main characters – but I
don’t think it really matters, as both are equally real to them. Joaquin
Phoenix gives the performance of the year as that main character – the raging
id that is Freddie Quell who responds to the world and everyone in it with the
same strut and sexual arrogance. Philip Seymour Hoffman is equally great as
Lancaster Dodd, the cult leader, who is just as angry as Freddie, but has
channeled that anger into a controlled fury. And Amy Adams is brilliant as his
quietly manipulative wife. And the brilliance of the technical aspects of the
film are also tough to deny – from the beautiful colors and precise framing of
the 70MM cinematography, to the meticulous art direction and costume to Jonny
Greenwood’s wonderful aural assault score, Anderson is once again in complete
control of his movie. For me, no film this year was as endlessly fascinating as
The Master. That is why, once again, Paul Thomas Anderson has made my favorite
film of the year.
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