I saw fewer films in 2009 than usual, which made me more appreciative of the good ones and more resentful of the bad ones. If there are more big-budget genre movies on my list than usual, it's more reflective of a shift in film distribution than in a newfound aversion to art films - as the studio indie divisions continued to fold and niche distributors relied more on Netflix and On Demand services, films like
The Road and
Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans never made it to my neck of the woods (although the latter is playing at
Images this week - thanks, guys!). It was also an unusually strong year for comedy, horror and children's movies, and even big-budget studio tentpoles - for every
Trannys 2, there was a genuinely offbeat or superior crowd pleaser. While there are definitely some bleak films on my top 10, 2009 was possibly the most fun moviegoing year of the decade - the best movies of the year (it was practically a coin toss between the top two) inspired the kind of excitement I always felt as a movie-loving kid but is all too rare these days.
1. Where the Wild Things Are One of my favorite memories from working at Images is the letters we received from the local elementary school thanking us for showing Spike Jonze's brilliant adaptation of the classic Maurice Sendak book.
Where the Wild Things Are is not an easy film for kids to digest, and thank God for that - when most "family entertainment" is designed to pacify kids, a film that speaks to a child's understanding of the world is something of a revalation. Surpassing even his collaborations with Charlie Kaufman,
Where the Wild Things Are is the grandest expression yet of Jonze's playful, endlessly imaginative approach to filmmaking. At once wondrous and haunting,
Where the Wild Things Are is the most fully realized vision of the world through a child's eyes since
E.T. I can't wait to watch it with my kids.
2. Inglourious Basterds By now, the experience of having a new Quentin Tarantino movie kick my ass is so routine that I feel spoiled. I must admit that it's a bit mystifying to me why
Inglourious Basterds brought Tarantino the critical and commercial acclaim that has eluded him since
Pulp Fiction, especially since his latest is very much a continuation of the cinematic ideas explored in
Kill Bill and the much-maligned
Death Proof. If anything, I would have guessed that a nearly three-hour WWII movie with no battles, lots of subtitles and a star that is offscreen for half the running time would have appealed mostly to cinephiles. Its popularity is attributable, I think, to two things - the joy of watching Nazis get brutally killed (something Tarantino subtly comments on throughout the movie) and the enduring power of well-done classical filmmaking. The film is a masterpiece of sustained tension - the audience I saw it with was dead silent during the opening chapter and the brilliant tavern scene, which almost drove me to frustration before delivering brilliantly. A cinematic orgy of great performances and already-classic images,
Inglourious Basterds is going to be discussed and celebrated for many years to come.
3. Antichrist John Waters described Lars Von Trier's movie best, writing in
Artforum that "If Ingmar Bergman had committed suicide, gone to hell, and come back to earth to direct an exploitation/art film for drive-ins, this is the movie he would have made." Equal parts
Evil Dead and
Hour of the Wolf, the film's mixture of psychosexual allegory and X-rated splatter was met with derision by many at its Cannes premiere, where the closing dedication to Andrei Tarkovsky was met with laughter. Yet Von Trier, who made the film while struggling with severe depression, shares with Tarkovsky a preoccupation with the struggle between the spirit and the flesh. Though
Antichrist is employs many of the same Brechtian devices as the director's recent work, it's his most emotionally direct film since
Breaking the Waves. As the conflict between the unnamed couple played by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg (frighteningly great here) turns shockingly visceral, Von Trier demonstrates a seriousness about the consequences of violence rarely seen in contemporary movies. Always the provocateur, Von Trier baits his critics' charges of misogyny with the ultimate example of the monstrous feminine, but the film is perhaps his attempt to either exorcise or (as the final scene suggests) make peace with his own chaos. Beautifully photographed by Anthony Dod Mantle,
Antichrist is a difficult but important film that, love it or hate it, is bound to get under your skin.
4. Observe and Report Jody Hill is what Martin Scorsese calls a "cinematic smuggler." In his debut film
The Foot Fist Way, the amazing TV series
Eastbound and Down and this, his criminally underrated second movie, Hill uses the cover of deadpan slacker irony to deliver a pitch-black critique of the spiritually empty existence of his characters. For mall cop Ronnie (Seth Rogen, also underestimated here), a paranoid, reactionary ethos cobbled together from action movies and reruns of
COPS is his only escape from his hellish life. If that sounds about as funny as
Antichrist, the miracle is that Hill, like Todd Solondz before him, gives his protagonist a weird integrity; in his own misguided way, Ronnie is trying to make the world a better place. Hill and Rogen have both described
Observe and Report as "
Taxi Driver as a comedy," and like De Niro and Scorsese's own comic version of
Taxi Driver (
The King of Comedy), the movie is a barrel of nervous laughs.
5. A Serious Man A movie that gets funnier and more threatening the more I think about it. The way the film's impending sense of doom creeps up on you is astonishing; there's not a wasted moment in the film, every scene quietly building to the ending's final gut punch. The Coens have become possibly our greatest absurdists; while I admit I'm still working through the film's meaning, it seems to posit the idea that there is
something governing our lives, but that
something's nature is so unknowable to us that perhaps it's best too, as character suggests, "Accept the mystery." The Coens have never been more merciless, but any charges of misanthropy fall apart in the face of their obvious affection for their characters and the actors playing them; in its obvious sympathy for the little guy,
A Serious Man gives me that Barton Fink feeling.
6. Watchmen I like this movie for all the reasons it was never going to connect with a mainstream audience. I like that it's cold and precise in its stubborn adherence to the source novel; I like that it's longer, more violent and nerdier than it needs to be, that its makers cared more about giving the fans the movie they wanted then in appealing to the widest possible audience. Of course, everyone who fell in love with the book can't help comparing Zack Snyder's movie against the one they'd imagined, so there's something noble in Snyder's swinging for the fences. The film isn't perfect - after
Revenge of the Sith, no movie should feature a costumed character howling "Nooooo!" - but
Watchmen stands next to
Hulk and
Superman Returns as a cerebral take on the comic book movie that I'll gladly defend in vain anytime. If he sees it, Alan Moore may lift his curse on Snyder; I know I did.
7. Adventureland Greg Mottola's coming-of-age tale is the warmest movie I saw this year. Mottola demonstrates real affection for his characters as they try to navigate their first adult relationships. Jesse Eisenberg (also good this year in
Zombieland) and Kristen Stewart are endearingly awkward as co-workers at the titular amusement park struggling to say what they mean.
Adventureland is bound to inspire laughs of recognition from anyone who remembers what it was like to be 20 and completely unprepared for the real world. Plus, the soundtrack kicks ass.
8. Public Enemies With each film, Michael Mann is driven more and more by an obsessive attention to the nuts-and-bolts minutia of his characters' lives that is frustrating to some audience members and mesmerizing to others. As with Altman's
McCabe and Mrs. Miller, the contrast between the striking cinematography and the muddy sound design emphasizes the disconnect between historical mythmaking and verisimilitude. We're drawn to the seductive cool of John Dillinger (Johnny Depp, willing as ever to subvert his iconic screen presence) even as the movie constantly paints towards his inevitable downfall. It's the most subversive gangster movie since
Bonnie and Clyde, and while it never quite touches the greatness of that film (it's surprising how bad Christian Bale is here), it's nevertheless a fascinating film, particularly in its stunning final scenes.
9. Star Trek A movie that shouldn't work but does. A year ago, I was mocking
Star Trek's trailer, which threatened what Paul Clark dubbed "
Star Trek Babies." But while I remain opposed to building starships on earth, I was otherwise surprised by how director J.J. Abrams manages the balancing act of honoring fans' memories of these characters while also, impossibly, making
Star Trek cool. The time-travel plot is completely ridiculous, but no matter; Abrams' understands that the key to
Star Trek's success is the interplay between the characters, particularly the coolly logical Spock and cocky man of action Kirk (they, and the rest of the characters, are perfectly cast). With the Abrams-created
Lost (series co-runner Damon Lindelof is one of
Star Trek's producers) taking sci-fi to new levels on the small screen, the same love of genre storytelling has breathed new life into a dying franchise; it's sort of astonishing, after slogging through the last few
Next Generation movies, to be genuinely excited for the next
Star Trek.
10. Drag Me to Hell Quentin Tarantino pointed out in an interview that Sam Raimi's latest horror comedy shares with
A Serious Man a gleeful willingness to torture its protagonist (Raimi and the Coens have collaborated in the past). Made in the macabre tradition of EC Comics,
Drag Me to Hell is Raimi returning to his splatstick roots - this movie may be the closest thing we ever get to a big-budget
Evil Dead 4. The film's laughs and screams are held together by its central sick joke - that its tormented protagonist Christine (Allison Lohman) deserves what's coming to her. It's a blast to witness Raimi get back in touch with the demented
Looney Tunes style of filmmaking only seen in moments of the
Spider-Man movies, while also revealing a near-Hitchcockian sense of timing. It's the rare mainstream horror movie that pulls no punches, and would be a much more bitter pill to swallow were Raimi not clearly having a fiendishly fun time making us jump out of our seats.
Speaking of top 10s, it's also time for the 2009 Muriel Awards; as always, the results promise to be better than the Oscars. This year has seen some best-of-the-decade awards as well as the usual anniversary awards - I never realized 1984 was such a great year for movies, but I couldn't even find room for much-deserved winner
This is Spinal Tap in my top 5. The awards once again feature commentary by the eclectic group of film bloggers and writers who participated, including my notes on Best Screenplay winner
Inglourious Basterds (so far, it's looking like an
Inglourious sweep at the Muriels this year). To see the winners posted every day through February 28, head over to Steve Carlson's blog
Down Inside You're Dirty.
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.
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.
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."
1. Where the Wild Things Are One of my favorite memories from working at Images is the letters we received from the local elementary school thanking us for showing Spike Jonze's brilliant adaptation of the classic Maurice Sendak book. Where the Wild Things Are is not an easy film for kids to digest, and thank God for that - when most "family entertainment" is designed to pacify kids, a film that speaks to a child's understanding of the world is something of a revalation. Surpassing even his collaborations with Charlie Kaufman, Where the Wild Things Are is the grandest expression yet of Jonze's playful, endlessly imaginative approach to filmmaking. At once wondrous and haunting, Where the Wild Things Are is the most fully realized vision of the world through a child's eyes since E.T. I can't wait to watch it with my kids.
2. Inglourious Basterds By now, the experience of having a new Quentin Tarantino movie kick my ass is so routine that I feel spoiled. I must admit that it's a bit mystifying to me why Inglourious Basterds brought Tarantino the critical and commercial acclaim that has eluded him since Pulp Fiction, especially since his latest is very much a continuation of the cinematic ideas explored in Kill Bill and the much-maligned Death Proof. If anything, I would have guessed that a nearly three-hour WWII movie with no battles, lots of subtitles and a star that is offscreen for half the running time would have appealed mostly to cinephiles. Its popularity is attributable, I think, to two things - the joy of watching Nazis get brutally killed (something Tarantino subtly comments on throughout the movie) and the enduring power of well-done classical filmmaking. The film is a masterpiece of sustained tension - the audience I saw it with was dead silent during the opening chapter and the brilliant tavern scene, which almost drove me to frustration before delivering brilliantly. A cinematic orgy of great performances and already-classic images, Inglourious Basterds is going to be discussed and celebrated for many years to come.
3. Antichrist John Waters described Lars Von Trier's movie best, writing in Artforum that "If Ingmar Bergman had committed suicide, gone to hell, and come back to earth to direct an exploitation/art film for drive-ins, this is the movie he would have made." Equal parts Evil Dead and Hour of the Wolf, the film's mixture of psychosexual allegory and X-rated splatter was met with derision by many at its Cannes premiere, where the closing dedication to Andrei Tarkovsky was met with laughter. Yet Von Trier, who made the film while struggling with severe depression, shares with Tarkovsky a preoccupation with the struggle between the spirit and the flesh. Though Antichrist is employs many of the same Brechtian devices as the director's recent work, it's his most emotionally direct film since Breaking the Waves. As the conflict between the unnamed couple played by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg (frighteningly great here) turns shockingly visceral, Von Trier demonstrates a seriousness about the consequences of violence rarely seen in contemporary movies. Always the provocateur, Von Trier baits his critics' charges of misogyny with the ultimate example of the monstrous feminine, but the film is perhaps his attempt to either exorcise or (as the final scene suggests) make peace with his own chaos. Beautifully photographed by Anthony Dod Mantle, Antichrist is a difficult but important film that, love it or hate it, is bound to get under your skin.
4. Observe and Report Jody Hill is what Martin Scorsese calls a "cinematic smuggler." In his debut film The Foot Fist Way, the amazing TV series Eastbound and Down and this, his criminally underrated second movie, Hill uses the cover of deadpan slacker irony to deliver a pitch-black critique of the spiritually empty existence of his characters. For mall cop Ronnie (Seth Rogen, also underestimated here), a paranoid, reactionary ethos cobbled together from action movies and reruns of COPS is his only escape from his hellish life. If that sounds about as funny as Antichrist, the miracle is that Hill, like Todd Solondz before him, gives his protagonist a weird integrity; in his own misguided way, Ronnie is trying to make the world a better place. Hill and Rogen have both described Observe and Report as "Taxi Driver as a comedy," and like De Niro and Scorsese's own comic version of Taxi Driver (The King of Comedy), the movie is a barrel of nervous laughs.
6. Watchmen I like this movie for all the reasons it was never going to connect with a mainstream audience. I like that it's cold and precise in its stubborn adherence to the source novel; I like that it's longer, more violent and nerdier than it needs to be, that its makers cared more about giving the fans the movie they wanted then in appealing to the widest possible audience. Of course, everyone who fell in love with the book can't help comparing Zack Snyder's movie against the one they'd imagined, so there's something noble in Snyder's swinging for the fences. The film isn't perfect - after Revenge of the Sith, no movie should feature a costumed character howling "Nooooo!" - but Watchmen stands next to Hulk and Superman Returns as a cerebral take on the comic book movie that I'll gladly defend in vain anytime. If he sees it, Alan Moore may lift his curse on Snyder; I know I did.
7. Adventureland Greg Mottola's coming-of-age tale is the warmest movie I saw this year. Mottola demonstrates real affection for his characters as they try to navigate their first adult relationships. Jesse Eisenberg (also good this year in Zombieland) and Kristen Stewart are endearingly awkward as co-workers at the titular amusement park struggling to say what they mean. Adventureland is bound to inspire laughs of recognition from anyone who remembers what it was like to be 20 and completely unprepared for the real world. Plus, the soundtrack kicks ass.
8. Public Enemies With each film, Michael Mann is driven more and more by an obsessive attention to the nuts-and-bolts minutia of his characters' lives that is frustrating to some audience members and mesmerizing to others. As with Altman's McCabe and Mrs. Miller, the contrast between the striking cinematography and the muddy sound design emphasizes the disconnect between historical mythmaking and verisimilitude. We're drawn to the seductive cool of John Dillinger (Johnny Depp, willing as ever to subvert his iconic screen presence) even as the movie constantly paints towards his inevitable downfall. It's the most subversive gangster movie since Bonnie and Clyde, and while it never quite touches the greatness of that film (it's surprising how bad Christian Bale is here), it's nevertheless a fascinating film, particularly in its stunning final scenes.
9. Star Trek A movie that shouldn't work but does. A year ago, I was mocking Star Trek's trailer, which threatened what Paul Clark dubbed "Star Trek Babies." But while I remain opposed to building starships on earth, I was otherwise surprised by how director J.J. Abrams manages the balancing act of honoring fans' memories of these characters while also, impossibly, making Star Trek cool. The time-travel plot is completely ridiculous, but no matter; Abrams' understands that the key to Star Trek's success is the interplay between the characters, particularly the coolly logical Spock and cocky man of action Kirk (they, and the rest of the characters, are perfectly cast). With the Abrams-created Lost (series co-runner Damon Lindelof is one of Star Trek's producers) taking sci-fi to new levels on the small screen, the same love of genre storytelling has breathed new life into a dying franchise; it's sort of astonishing, after slogging through the last few Next Generation movies, to be genuinely excited for the next Star Trek.
10. Drag Me to Hell Quentin Tarantino pointed out in an interview that Sam Raimi's latest horror comedy shares with A Serious Man a gleeful willingness to torture its protagonist (Raimi and the Coens have collaborated in the past). Made in the macabre tradition of EC Comics, Drag Me to Hell is Raimi returning to his splatstick roots - this movie may be the closest thing we ever get to a big-budget Evil Dead 4. The film's laughs and screams are held together by its central sick joke - that its tormented protagonist Christine (Allison Lohman) deserves what's coming to her. It's a blast to witness Raimi get back in touch with the demented Looney Tunes style of filmmaking only seen in moments of the Spider-Man movies, while also revealing a near-Hitchcockian sense of timing. It's the rare mainstream horror movie that pulls no punches, and would be a much more bitter pill to swallow were Raimi not clearly having a fiendishly fun time making us jump out of our seats.
Speaking of top 10s, it's also time for the 2009 Muriel Awards; as always, the results promise to be better than the Oscars. This year has seen some best-of-the-decade awards as well as the usual anniversary awards - I never realized 1984 was such a great year for movies, but I couldn't even find room for much-deserved winner This is Spinal Tap in my top 5. The awards once again feature commentary by the eclectic group of film bloggers and writers who participated, including my notes on Best Screenplay winner Inglourious Basterds (so far, it's looking like an Inglourious sweep at the Muriels this year). To see the winners posted every day through February 28, head over to Steve Carlson's blog Down Inside You're Dirty.
In the past three years, Joel and Ethan Coen have given us three completely unpredictable movies, each drastically different from the last. The existentalist thriller No Country For Old Men was followed by the misanthropic slapstick of Burn After Reading, the latter as much an absurdist companion to the former as The Big Lebowski is to Fargo. Both films (along with their 2004 misfire The Ladykillers) suggested that the Coens had adapted a more cynical worldview; it's hard to imagine the Coens of today directing the scene in Raising Arizona where Ed breaks up with Hi without ironic Kubrickian distance. If their newest movie, A Serious Man, combines the comic and somber elements of their previous two films, it's also, surprisingly, their most personal movie in years. Set in Minnesota (their home state) in 1970 (when the Coens were teens), A Serious Man is at once their bleakest and most sincere film yet.
5) Of all the arts the movies draw upon to become what they are, which is the most important, or the one you value most?
Mattress Man – “You think you can be a pervert and not pay for it?”) 
One example of how much Where the Wild Things Are gets right (especially given the many ways it could have gone terribly wrong) is the casting of newcomer Max Records as Max. The hypothetical one-liner-and-fart-joke-filled adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s classic book we’ve thankfully avoided would surely have starred a cloying, groin-kicking little snot. But director Spike Jonze has wisely chosen a Max who is capable of acting as the film’s emotional center – while Records is an agreeably goofy kid, he shares with the best child actors the ability to be completely open. Early in the film, Max starts a snowball fight with his older sister Claire (Pepita Emmerichs) and her older friends, who play too rough and smash Max's snow fort; the fear and hurt on Max's tear-streaked face are more authentic then we're used to seeing in a children's film. This is no small accomplishment, as it's harder than it seems to make a film that truly captures feelings that most of us have tried to forget - like E.T., The 400 Blows and the handful of other great films about childhood it joins, Where the Wild Things Are loves kids too much to patronize them.
who, upon breaking up with his girlfriend, sleeps with seven different women in one night before reuniting with his girlfriend the next morning and having sex with her in a motel. Having just made a movie that is both erotic and very sympathetic to the experiences of sex workers, I wasn't automatically opposed to the idea on moral grounds. Jessica is a very talented and intelligent writer who has always struggled to find her voice, and it was good to see her enthusiastic about something. But I did have some concerns about the script, both as a product of Moth Films and on a personal level - frankly, the idea of sleeping with multiple people as a way of fixing one's relationship brushed up against issues we'd dealt with in our relationship, and I wondered aloud if the script was pure fantasy or if it represented her real views about sex and relationships. I felt like my concerns were reasonable, but she increasingly felt like I was holding her back from becoming her true self. She also talked a great deal about her friend, how she'd finally met someone who truly understood her, and started shutting me out both figuratively and literally, spending six hours at a time chatting on Facebook with the bedroom door closed. I became jealous, and when I expressed this I was told that I was being crazy and paranoid. Communication continued to deteriorate until the end of June, when I offered a choice between counseling or separation; she chose separation.
getting better. It was around this point that I saw Inglorious Basterds, which was a perfect movie that I needed in so many ways, and which I had nothing more intelligent to say than "Movie awesome. Nazi scary." I'd started to think things were getting back on an even keel, that I was starting to adjust to this new life, until last week, when she called to announce that she was giving me the kids and did not want to see them again. She said that she was a bad person that nobody could care about and refused to elaborate, except to say that she was getting help. A few days later I got a call from her mother; nobody had heard from her in a few days, she wasn't at her apartment or answering her phone. She's staying with her filmmaker friend now, and there's no real way to preface this part - they're making foot porn together (again, search around and you'll find it). I'm still processing this part, but writing it all out like this helps. After the initial shock passed, I looked at her new blog again. I didn't feel jealous or insecure or any of the things I expected to feel; I felt sad, and concerned for her, and hoping this is just a step towards getting her to the place she needs to go to feel like herself, which she's struggled with for so long. I left a comment poking fun at her, not in a mean way but in the way we used to be when things were good, when we could gently call out each other's bullshit and remind each other how well each of us knew the other. And it finally felt like I was truly saying goodbye.
from a metaphysical point of view. These include A.I., Solaris, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Birth and The Fountain.
Michael Mann and David Fincher, easily the best directors working in HD right now, still rely on celluloid for some scenes).
both our empathy for Carrie and our desire to see the prank played out. I love how Sue's attempt to stop it is thwarted by the gym teacher who assumes Sue is there to hurt Carrie - one of many examples in De Palma of terrible things happening as the result of miscommunication. And the close-up of Chris Hargensen licking her cherry-red lips, turned on by her sadistic plan, is probably my favorite shot in the De Palma canon.
