Battle of the Aughts Round 1 - Spock vs. Frodo

I matched up the films in round 1 randomly, which makes the super-geeky titular battle much funnier. I'm happy that there are a number of offbeat pairs below - everyone who sent me their top 10 helped make this a very eclectic contest. Thanks, guys. Each round will last approximately 72 96 hours. I can't wait to see how it all pans out.

In the Mood For Love (5 votes)
Happy-Go-Lucky (4)

Punch-Drunk Love (10)
A Christmas Tale (0)

Pulse (4)
Reprise (0)

Dancer in the Dark (8)
Half Nelson (0)

The New World (8)
Run, Fatboy, Run (2)

Mulholland Drive (10)
Irreversible (1)

Jackass Number Two (4)
The Consequences of Love (1)

Dogville (5)
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (1)

Flight of the Red Balloon (3)
Electric Dragon 80.000 V (1)

Up (6)
Silent Light (1)

American Psycho/Primer (tie - 3 each)

No Country For Old Men (10)
Talk to Her (1)

Memento (8)
Secretary (4)

8 Women (4)
Shotgun Stories (1)

American Splendor (5)
In Praise of Love (1)

Almost Famous (4)
Blissfully Yours (1)

Kill Bill vol. 2 (6)
Synecdoche, New York (4)

A Prairie Home Companion (5)
Running on Karma (0)












I'm Not There/Y tu mama tambien (tie -3)

Spirited Away (4)
Hamlet (1)

No Direction Home (2)
The Best of Youth (0)

Pan's Labyrinth (5)
Adaptation (4)

Sideways (3)
Werckmeister Harmonies (2)

Ratatouille (5)
Exiled (0)

The Royal Tenenbaums (7)
Waking Life (2)

Amelie (5)
Gerry (2)

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (4)
The Devil's Rejects (2)

The Beat That My Heart Skipped (2)
Old Joy (1)

Before Sunset (4)
Zombieland (3)

WALL*E (6)
24 Hour Party People (2)

Inside Man (4)
Audition (3)

Children of Men (9)
Burn After Reading (1)

The Dark Knight (4)
The Son (2)

Zodiac (7)
In the Bedroom (2)

There Will Be Blood (5)
Bad Santa (3)

Beau Travail (1)
Survive Style 5+ (0)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (8)
The Brown Bunny (1)

Inglourious Basterds (8)
The World (0)

Time Out (2)
Black Hawk Down (0)

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (5)
Star Trek (4)

Yi Yi (3)
Southland Tales (0)

28 Days Later (6)
The Aura (0)

An end to inertia.

I recently did some research on a self-help program that will go unnamed to help a friend determine if a family member had joined a cult (alas, no). In reading about this program's tenets - basically, a grab bag of Eastern and Western philosophy backed by an aggressive marketing strategy - I was struck by the distinction the program makes between "change" (bad) and "transformation" (good), words that I had believed to be synonyms. The difference, according to this program, is that change is defined in contrast to the past (like Mant), whereas transformation is a present-tense decision to start a new way of being independent of the past (like Brundlefly). Fascinating. So in an effort to transform, I've decided to skip the part explaining the reasons why I've let the blog stagnate (mostly mundane) and get on with one of the many ideas I've been procrasinating on.

So now then.

I wanted to wait on one idea until the flood of end-of-decade lists had slowed down and give time to some of my readers who, like me, needed the DVD window to fully absorb last year's movies. Those of you who have been visiting the blog for a long time might remember the tournament-style voting competition a few years back to determine the readers' choice for Best Movie Ever (the winner was 2001). I'd like to try to same thing to determine Cinevistaramascope's Best of the Aughts. As with the previous contest, a pool of films will be created from readers' top 10 lists, with more points awarded by ranking (unranked lists = equal points for each movie). The highest-scoring films - up to 128 - will face off over the course of five or six rounds until a winner is named. Hopefully, as with any "best of" list worth its salt, lively debate will ensue.

The only rule is that movies submitted must have made their non-festival (or commercial, if you prefer) theatrical debut between January 1, 2000 and December 31, 2009. The more diverse the selection of competing films, the more fun the contest will be (and with 128 slots open, it's very possible that one vote is all a film will need). So whether you wish to bring attention to the work of Pedro Costa or argue that Kangraroo Jack is ripe for rediscovery, please e-mail your top 10 to cvrscope@gmail.com. Please also indicate if you'd be interested in contributing a brief write-up of a film from your list, which I hope to run during the contest as well (I'd also appreciate suggestions for a contest title). Top 10s will be accepted until 12PM EST on August 29; the contest will start on September 1. Those of you looking for ideas should check out my friend Paul Clark's ongoing Top 25 of the Aughts, or the submissions from last year's Muriel Awards.

Speaking of the Muriels, the recently launched blog Our Science is Too Tight looks to serve as a sort of meeting place for the many talented film writers and bloggers who contribute to the awards every year. Nearly every day there are new links to Muriel voters' work as well as original content. I'm looking forward to writing for the blog - I'm looking forward to writing, period.

I gotta get off this rock, Chuck.

At first I thought I was putting off writing about Shutter Island because it's impossible to really discuss without talking about its ending (consider that a spoiler warning). But after a few weeks, I realized I've never written about Scorsese; I managed to sidestep in-depth responses to The Departed and Shine a Light when they were released, and I've never written a proper review of any of his previous films. Writing about Scorsese is daunting, not so much because he is possibly my favorite filmmaker - he, Kubrick and Lynch are constantly battling for the top spot - but because, as Godard said of Nicholas Ray, Scorsese is cinema.

This is not to say that Scorsese is beyond criticism, but each new film, good or bad, is the sum of not only every film he's made but possibly every film he's ever seen. Shutter Island evokes and sometimes directly acknowledges Hitchcock, Kubrick, Powell and Pressburger, Val Lewton, Mario Bava and others I'm sure I missed on one viewing. This isn't just homage, it's flat-out worship of the entire history of cinema even as he expands the language of filmmaking in ways big and small with each new movie. The problem, then, is where to begin - whether I start by connecting Shutter Island to to Scorsese's body of work, the ongoing tension between his American and European sensibilities, his Catholicism, his ongoing exploration of violence, or his continued collaboration with Leonardo DiCaprio, I'm risking worse than finding I don't have Scorsese's breath support. At best I'm telling you what you already know; at worst I'm diagramming, grasping the words but missing the music, reducing Scorsese to a fucking mix tape. I'd better have something to say, in other words, and as there is no clear starting point, let's start at the ending.

More than any of the other filmmakers I mentioned before, Shutter Island explicitly quotes Kubrick and specifically The Shining, complete with Penderecki on the soundtrack and a cameo by the Grady twins (triplets here). Kubrick's film is an important reference point in understanding Scorsese's intentions here, beyond the surface similarities of two films set in creepy, isolated locations. Since The Shining's release, the most common criticism of the film is that it is obvious from the beginning that Jack Torrance is crazy, which deprives the film of any suspense. For fans of The Shining, however, it is Kubrick's decision to foreground his character's psychological instability that is the source of the film's almost unbearable tension - as Scorsese commented, "It's holding back this extraordinary, emotional, powerful dramatic punchline. You know it's going to come somehow, at some time, and it just creates such suspense." Similarly, Shutter Island has been partly criticized for the predictability of a "twist" that I don't think is meant to be a twist - it's obvious early on that the protagonist, U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio), is insane. This will be obvious to anyone with a basic recognition of film language from the first scene; as Teddy and his new partner Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) approach the titular island by ferry, the blatant rear projection of the backgrounds signals a level of unreality reminiscent of Hitchcock's use of the technique (which, in his later films, was on the verge of anachronistic even 40 years ago). Scorsese has always embraced a tension between realism and cinematic artifice; with Shutter Island, he emphasizes the medium's unreality to clue us in, early on, that we cannot trust what we are seeing.

Teddy and Chuck are headed to Ashecliff, a hospital for the criminally insane located on the island, to investigate the disappearance of Rachel Solando (Emily Mortimer), a patient hospitalized after drowning her children. As Teddy interviews the hospital staff, including compassionate head psychiatrist Dr. John Cawley (Ben Kingsley) and his more pragmatic colleague Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow), Scorsese and editor Thelma Schoonmaker employ deliberate continuity errors and off-balance editing rhythms to subtly disorient us. By the time Teddy confides his real motives for taking the case to Chuck, it's clear that we cannot take Teddy or his investigation at face value - the mystery Scorsese withholds is why an insane man is being given free reign of the asylum. DiCaprio is excellent as the tormented, justice-seeking Daniels, but the supporting performances are perhaps more important, as much of the film's success depends on the sustained feeling that everyone around Teddy knows something he doesn't (Ruffalo is particularly wonderful, playing the second banana role on the surface while revealing subtle hints of the compassion he feels for his "partner"). Few films have evoked the perspective of a deeply paranoid man as effectively; each scene of Teddy's investigation plays well as either a literal manifestation of the mystery unfolding in Teddy's head or, upon reflection, as the elaborate role-playing game it actually is. This is complimented marvellously by Dante Ferretti's production design, a neverending labyrinth of corridors, spirals and shadows that manifest Teddy's search for the truth just out of his grasp.

Though Shutter Island is, quite deliberately, one of Scorsese's pulpier efforts, it continues his ongoing investigation into the nature of violence. Teddy is a war hero, and his memories of the liberation of Dachau are borne directly out of a '50s pulp magazine - however, these sequences are marked by historical inaccuracies that suggest they may be a part of Teddy's delusion (I must admit I would have missed this were it not for Glenn Kenny's response to complaints from Bernard Henri-Levy). Characters throughout the film ruminate on the nature of violence with varying degrees of success (I found the dialogue between Teddy and a guard played by Ted Levine* a bit too on-the-nose). The film's strongest impact comes when we see the reality Teddy has buried. The film has some stunningly stylized moments, including the gorgeous dream sequences involving his dead wife Dolores (Michelle Williams) and the unforgettable shot of rats swarming a cliffside; however, when we see what Dolores did in the Berkshires, the scene is shot flatly, from a distance. It's one of the most chilling cinematic examples of the banality of evil, a horror born out of good intentions and human frailty.

This is not to overlook the awkwardness of the film's denoument - I must admit that I was a bit disappointed that the film's reveal requires Ben Kingsley pointing at anagrams on a whiteboard. I want to say that Scorsese elevates the material (Laeta Kalogridis is no Paul Schrader), but part of the reason the film works is that he never condescends to the B-movie origins of Lehane's novel. Shutter Island is a master chef making cheeseburgers and clearly having a lot of fun doing it; it's entertaining as hell, and yet it clearly merits discussion alongside his more "serious" efforts (to Scorsese's credit, I don't think he makes this distinction with his work). Teddy, like almost every Scorsese protagonist from Travis Bickle to Rupert Pupkin to Jesus Christ, is another incarnation of "God's lonely man," obsessives driven to repeat their psychic traumas over and over. As Kenny pointed out, "Even more than Raging Bull, Shutter Island can be read as a feature-length remake of Scorsese's harrowing 1969 short The Big Shave: it's a chronicle of a man who simply cannot stop hurting himself, cutting himself open." For this reason, the film lingered in my memory long after the closing credits (with their haunting mash-up of Dinah Washington and Max Richter). While hopefully none of us will ever be in Teddy's position, I'm sure many of us have risked destruction trying to solve an unsolvable problem; it's often our desire to be heroic that brings out our monsters. Why are you all wet, baby?

Home Entertainment

I keep forgetting to mention here that the Black Light DVD is available for sale now at CreateSpace and Amazon. It's not Blu-ray, and I doubt it will be your new home theater demo. But it's got heart, dammit, and that has to count for something these days ($20, hopefully). I've included some stills below, along with the trailer for those of you who missed it the first time.

A Nightmare in Cherry Hill

Is the sight of Malcolm McDowell, Dario Argento, Tom Atkins and Eric Roberts occupying the same space a sign of the end times? I can't say for sure, but I saw exactly that at Monster Mania 14. Held in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, the horror convention featured an astounding lineup of horror, cult and B-movie actors (including both Jake AND Gary Busey) signing autographs and meeting fans. It was my first horror convention, though it won't be my last - for a lifelong horror movie geek, Monster Mania is better than Christmas.

After a six-hour drive to Cherry Hill, a shower and room service, my travelling companion Annabelle and I headed down to check out the many vendors selling horror collectibles. There were out-of-print, R2 and bootleg DVDs, lobby cards, posters and stills, t-shirts and other apparel, and back issues of Fangoria as far as the eye could see. I was particularly impressed by the vendors selling horror-inspired art of their own, from paintings of Pinhead to horror-themed jewelry to my personal favorite, a Barbie redesigned to look like Laura Palmer wrapped in plastic (those in the Philly area should check out the Twin Peaks-inspired show, featuring work by 20 artists, at Piranha Betty's). Working on a limited budget for the weekend, I grabbed a Night Breed DVD for Annabelle but decided to think some more about what needed to come home with me. The best part of the night was the visible excitement on the faces of Annabelle's young cousins, who couldn't wait to tell their classmates they'd met Michael Myers. Indeed, witnessing Myers posing for pictures with Freddy Kreuger, the Predator and a Na'vi ranks high on the list of the most surreal things I've ever seen.

On Saturday morning I returned to the vendors, snagging a region-free DVD of Santa Sangre and two t-shirts from Fright Rags - a Wicker Man tee (Christopher Lee, not Nicolas Cage) and an absolutely gorgeous Let the Right One In shirt. I chatted for a few minutes with the Fright Rags crew; they're supercool and, in my opinion, way better than Rotten Cotton.

Then we headed to our first panel, a reunion of A Nightmare on Elm Street 2 stars Mark Patton and Kim Myers. The Q&A actually led me to reevaluate my feelings about Freddy's Revenge; while I'd always assumed the film's blatant homoeroticism was unintentional and assumed the questions would dance around this, I was surprised that Patton was eager to explain why, as he put it, "Nightmare 2 is the gayest horror movie ever." The openly gay actor, who was out when he played Jesse (a rarity among young actors in 1980s Hollywood), was very aware of the film's gay subtext and insists screenwriter David Chaskin was as well. Patton talked candidly about his decision to leave acting, motivated by the pain of losing many of his friends to AIDS and frustration with the homophobia (often from closeted actors and executives) that closed doors for him in Hollywood. As he talked of tiring of the "fag-bashing" he found in many Nightmare 2 reviews on the internet and the increasingly positive response his performance has received from gay and straight horror fans in recent years, I found myself reflecting on how strange it must be for an actor primarily identified with one role in a genre movie to have his life defined and identified by that role. Patton, who owns an art gallery in Mexico and hasn't done any convention appearances or Elm Street interviews before this year, decided to meet his fans after a positive experience being interviewed for the upcoming series retrospective documentary Never Sleep Again: The Elm Street Legacy (the footage we were shown by the producers looked very promising). He expressed sincere gratitude for his fans, particularly those who told him that Freddy's Revenge helped them come to terms with their sexuality. I never expected to be genuinely movied by a Freddy's Revenge Q&A. You rock, Jesse Walsh.

After the Q&A I got in line to have my Inferno one-sheet signed by Dario Argento. The prospect of meeting one of my favorite directors, horror or otherwise, had me a bit nervous; luckily, Argento was extremely kind and, if anything, a bit shy himself. He was curious about my poster, asking what country it was from. I told him I wasn't really sure; he examined it again and said in his pronounced Italian accent, "Ah, Turkey, I think," he said, pointing to the image of a snake slithering through a skull's eye sockets. "In Turkey, they add snake. This not enough. They need snake. Yes, Turkey." I thanked him, told him Inferno is one of my favorite films - original, I know, but as Inferno is his most underrated film, he seemed to appreciate it. My limited budget kept me from meeting more people directly, so special mention must be made of Bill Mosely, who enthusiastically chatted up fans regardless of whether they were buying anything or not. That Chop Top is a class act.

More room service and cable, than the Malcom McDowell Q&A, who started off by requesting intelligent questions only; when the first was "What was it like to work with Stanley Kubrick," he groaned "Christ, here we go..." Luckily, after getting the usual anecdotes about "Singin' in the Rain" and eye torture out of the way, McDowell was filled with hilarious stories about filming the William Tell orgy scene (he kept giving one actress the ol' in-out to after Kubrick called "cut" to irritate the perfectionist director), hijinks on the set of Caligula (I had no idea Peter O'Toole was [is?] a pothead!), and injuries sustained while filming the nude wrestling scene in if... When asked about working with Rob Zombie, he referred to the director as "brilliant" and insisted he could be a successful director of non-horror movies (I hold out hope for Zombie - Halloween II was often ridiculous but somehow difficult to dismiss completely). McDowell had the audience cracking up and seemed to really enjoy talking directly with fans, particularly a young woman dressed as a Droog - "Look at you there, all dressed up as Alex and with your bosoms out! That's great."

Next was Argento, aided by an interpreter, who apologized early on that "I am not as funny as [McDowell]." He started by telling the audience that he'd travelled with his brother to the American premiere of Suspiria in Philadelphia (near Cherry Hill), where it got a very enthusiastic response, and the city has been dear to him ever since. When asked where he studied film, he responded "I studied in the cinema. Godard is my teacher. Bergman is my teacher." While his recent films have been disappointing, it was clear that Argento hasn't lost touch with his love of cinema, leaving me with hope that he still has more great movies left to make. The best moment was when a fan asked about the monstrous title character of Argento's Masters of Horror episode Jenifer, Argento said "I love Jenifer. I want to make love to Jenifer."

We took another quick look at the vendors the next morning before leaving; I thought about how good it felt to be among so many fellow horror fans. While I love all cinema, horror was definitely my gateway into film appreciation, and I'll always feel loyal to the movies that gave me nightmares when I was a kid, forever burning themselves into my frame of reference. While I don't want to overanalyze it, I suspect that horror fans are bonded by a more macabre outlook on life than most people have. For all the times I've been asked why I could possibly enjoy such grotesque movies, it felt good to be surrounded by people for whom the question was obvious. Also, after three days of being surrounded by alternachicks in clingy horror apparel (including the one by my side), I must say that horror fans are generally sexier than the average geek. I can't wait for my next con, and after seeing how kid-friendly the con actually was, it's safe to say that Luna and Tommy will be attending their first Monster Mania pretty soon.