Sunday, January 10, 2010

Breaking the Mold: The Best Movies of 2009




As I looked back over the movies I saw in 2009, I realized that the best of the lot resembled the list I made in 2007. New and seasoned filmmakers shot for the moon, creating bold and risky visions of everything from the damages of heartbreak, to the trials of adolescence, to the decline of the world as we know it. There wasn't a consistent theme to the best of the year, which made putting them in a list all the more difficult. I've spoken with quite a few people who said they didn't see enough great movies in 2009 to make a top ten. I was struggling to figure out which movies would be left out of the top twenty. It was a strong year for movies, in other words, as plenty of filmmakers had something to say and did so in ways that were ambitious, original, and occasionally profound. So, here is my sum up, as best as I could put them in order. As usual, it is always subject to change, and when that is a dilemma, I'd say that's the sign of a good movie year.

LEE

Dishonorable Mentions (in alphabetical order): 12 Rounds, Avatar, Funny People, The Proposal, Terminator: Salvation, World's Greatest Dad, and Year One

Honorable Mentions (in alphabetical order): Anvil! The Story of Anvil, The Box, Crank: High Voltage, Drag Me to Hell, Gomorrah, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, The Limits of Control, Moon, A Perfect Getaway, Star Trek, Taken, Tetro, and You, the Living

The Next Ten

20) Coraline (dir. Henry Selick)
19) Sherlock Holmes (dir. Guy Ritchie)
18) A Serious Man (dir. Joel and Ethan Coen)
17) Martyrs (dir. Pascal Laugier)
16) The Hurt Locker (dir. Kathryn Bigelow)
15) Bright Star (dir. Jane Campion)
14) In the Loop (dir. Armando Iannucci)
13) 500 Days of Summer (dir. Marc Webb)
12) The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (dir. Werner Herzog)
11) Stingray Sam (dir. Cory McAbee)

The Top Ten



10) Observe and Report (dir. Jody Hill)

I found myself stunned after the first ten minutes of Observe and Report to the point my mouth hung open for the entire run time. Part of it was due to the fearless performance by Seth Rogen (who I was ready to give up on before this), the other was my amazement a studio would green light a comedy this uncomfortable. In an age where comedies consider risk being how often they can gross you out, here's one that uses the same tactic as a way to test the audience, not shock them. I've seen the movie twice and I want to see it again, just so I can remind myself it actually exists.



9) Antichrist (dir. Lars von Trier)

One of the most talked about movies of the year for more reasons than one, Lars von Trier's latest is a strangely compelling and emotionally rich horror movie about dealing with guilt and the multiple meanings of the word, "nature." The movie effortlessly juggles themes involving sexuality, relationships, and gender differences, building to a conclusion that shows how emotional pain leads to the need for physical pain, particularly when dealing with regret and blame. I thought a lot about Milton while I watched Antichrist; it's not an easy movie, but I'll be damned if it's not a fascinating one. Put it on a double bill with The Exorcist.



8) The House of the Devil (dir. Ti West)

Ti West has amazingly, at the age of 29, already mastered the tricky art of building anticipation. His third feature is his best so far, a throwback horror picture that isn't about in jokes or pop culture references, but a dead serious and beautifully stylish movie about the dangers of babysitting for strangers. The gorgeous Jocelin Donahue carries the movie with grace and subtlety, and the legendary Tom Noonan gets to turn the creepiness factor up to eleven for the first time since Manhunter. If the payoff isn't as exhilarating as the tense and remarkably quiet buildup, it hardly matters because it is handled with a technical proficiency and maturity rarely seen in the genre anymore. West remembers what made horror movies special in the first place: sometimes your imagination is scarier than what's actually put in front of you.



7) Fantastic Mr. Fox (dir. Wes Anderson)

Every Wes Anderson movie with the exception of Bottle Rocket has made it onto my top ten list, but none of them have entertained in the way Fantastic Mr. Fox does. Anderson proves animation suites him well with this visually dazzling, consistently hilarious tale of a fox's desire to break out of his boring routine and do what's in his nature. Along the way, the director's signature father/son conflicts come into play, and as usual, they are handled with equal compassion and quirkiness. What surprises most is the way Anderson is also able to weave in, with warm humor and a touch of the profound, ideas about the consequences of war and finding one's sense of purpose. It's a perfect decade closer for the auteur filmmaker, as it opens a brand new door of possibilities for him. Let's hope the movie's box office failure won't hold him back from exploring this medium again.



6) Up (dir. Pete Docter and Bob Peterson)

While I do agree with the majority that the wordless prologue is perhaps the best thing Pixar has ever done, I will still argue that the movie that follows is pretty great as well. The opening scene sets the stage for a visually audacious journey of soul searching for Carl (Ed Asner), a widowed man who decides to literally take his house to the paradise he and his wife never visited. Along the way, he befriends a little boy in need of a father figure and finds out the truth about his childhood hero. The movie effectively captures the need to rediscover one's inner strength no matter the age, and how the images of those we look up to can be shattered when we learn who they really are. It's a thoroughly rich movie, complete with sequences of cliffhanging excitement, unexpected laughs, and emotional honesty. After the underwhelming trailer, Up turned out to be a real treat.



5) Adventureland (dir. Greg Mottola)

I love coming of age stories, even though most of them depend on tasteless gags or a lack of understanding the way teenagers really behave. Even though Greg Mottola's Superbad had its fair share of vulgarities, it still had a firm grasp on who its characters were, emotions and all. Mottola's follow up threatened to be the same movie but instead, it takes a completely different approach. The movie covers the awkward summer after college is over when you can't find a "real" job and girls are tired of boys and ready for men. Mottola builds the central romance with an admirable amount of restraint, using the setting and the music to establish the mood and create memories. An '80s soundtrack can often be a distraction but here, we see how each song will serve as a reminder to a magical moment experienced during a summer with a miserable job and a difficult romance. This is one of those rarities that you don't want to end, because the world the characters inhabit is comfortable and true.



4) Pontypool (dir. Bruce McDonald)

Most horror movies are all about visual style and gore, which is what makes Pontypool one of the biggest pleasures in quite some time. Taking place in one location and focusing on the confusion and then fear (and then confusion) of a disc jockey (a terrific Stephen McHattie) and a few other radio station employees, the movie is a savage critique on the world's slow decent into illiteracy and the potential danger of talk radio. Aside from that, I will say no more, for the unfolding of the events is how this picture hooks you. No one makes movies like this anymore, movies that have a brain and are still able to be a hell of a lot of fun and scarier than we might have expected. Who knew that a dialogue based movie, set in a basement, could have the ability to totally freak you out?



3) Two Lovers (dir. James Gray)

Although James Gray's movies keep getting better, nothing could have prepared me for the dramatic punch of his latest. A story of a lost soul (a never better Joaquin Phoenix) who ends up torn between two women, one as starved of love as he is and the other, needy and helpless, Two Lovers is as honest and unflinching a portrait of necessity and the longing for human connection as any I have seen. The movie features Gray's signature touch for making the viewer feel right at home within its community, an element that gives us a better understanding of why the characters are at this point in their fractured lives. The conclusion to the picture is nothing short of perfection as it brings into focus an ultimatum that isn't based on what the key character really wants, but what will adequately fill the void in his heart.



2) Where the Wild Things Are (dir. Spike Jonze)

Spike Jonze's collaborations with the great Charlie Kaufman adequately prepared him for Where the Wild Things Are, a intensely personal project that takes the ideas of the short and poetic source material and blows them up into one of bravest movies about the struggles of childhood ever made. Once Max (Max Records) gets to the island and meets his new friends, we begin to experience why he is so hostile and frustrated on the inside. Max still doesn't know why he is a part of the world, whether it be the real one or the creation of his psyche, a conflict the movie plays out sans sugar coating or quick answers. Being human is not easy, and as Max learns, trying to confide in creatures of the imagination is not much easier when all you know are scarred human emotions. It's thick stuff, but when it's all said and done, there's no question that a light does shine dimly at the end of the tunnel. It's up to us to decide how much brighter it will get.



1) Inglourious Basterds (dir. Quentin Tarantino)

How appropriate it is that the best movie of the final year of the decade is about the movies! I was a product of the Tarantino generation, and feel that I am better moviegoer for it. While others complained about his lack of originality, I was learning about how to love the movies; not just through his, but because of his. Tarantino borrows the framework, but what fills it is completely his. The man has evolved into a genius due to how he carefully explores the themes at hand, mostly through the behaviors and decisions of his characters. Inglourious Basterds, like his pictures before it, revolves around people who get in over their heads. But what Tarantino makes clear as always is that the mistakes belong to the characters, not him; everything that happens is so because they made it that way. This idea runs wild in Basterds like never before, as Tarantino lovingly toys with his audience by always keeping us in the moment, a tactic that he winds so tight we can never anticipate what he'll throw at us next. It's a movie lover's dream, a picture so enthralled with how movies effect us (and deviously trick us) that it hardly matters if the pieces fit coherently. That's not the point. The movies have the power to play by their own rules, and Tarantino understands this, hell he embraces it, as much as any filmmaker alive. We're lucky to have him.


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