Rise of the Transforming Penguins: Part II - What I Saw On My Summer Vacation

This summer went by far too quickly. That isn't a complaint; actually, it was the best summer I can remember. After a hectic couple of years, I was finally able to relax and have a lot of fun with my family. This is why I missed writing more about summer movies as they were released; of course, it didn't help that the movies themselves were such a blur. Both the good and bad movies arrived, received a ton of press, and were on their way to the Wal-Mart bargain bin in a few weeks, replaced by the next big thing. Even the record-breaking final Harry Potter movie was gone from most of the local multiplexes by Labor Day. What little there was to say about the summer blockbusters had already been said many times over by the time I got a chance to see them. Now that things have slowed down and before the fall movie season kicks into high gear, I'll try to recap my impressions of the summer.

In May, my girlfriend Jen and I ventured to the Milford Drive-In for the one-two sucker punch of Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and Thor. On Stranger Tides was the worst kind of blockbuster sequel, a completely soulless machine desperately trying to keep alive a series that ran out of interesting ideas two movies ago. The previous sequels were equally pointless, but they were at least mildly interesting thanks to director Gore Verbinski's knack for appropriately epic images and grandiose setpieces. Thanks to Oscar-nominated hack Rob Marshall, On Stranger Tides looks and feels like a half-assed TV show, just like his other movies (it's stunning that this guy is a huge Bob Fosse fan). The plot is instantly forgettable and the "humor" rests entirely on the mistaken notion that Johnny Depp is inherently hilarious as Captain Jack Sparrow - in order for the character to work, he needs a real movie to subvert, not a 140-minute sketch designed to worship him. It was painful that On Stranger Tides made a billion dollars, and worse that so many of my friends gave it a pass solely because of their affection for Depp. Stop being enablers, guys.

Thor wasn't nearly as bad, but I was sort of baffled about its glowing reviews. It's half epic CGI-loaded kitschfest - Flash Gordon without the irony - and half fish-out-of-water comedy that worked better in Star Trek IV. Director Kenneth Branagh could have made this work - most of his movies, good or not, are kind of campy. But it also has to set up the Avengers movie, meaning it stops in its tracks for lots of dull exposition about SHIELD (it's good to be Clark Gregg right now). Honestly, Jen slept through most of it and I nodded off for a good portion of the middle. It was still a fun night - it was the drive-in, after all - but it's not a good sign when the tall evergreens behind the screen become more compelling to look at than the feature.

As far as comic book movies go, X-Men: First Class was much more successful. The biggest surprise of the Matthew Vaughn-helmed prequel was how much fun it is - even at their best, X-Men and X2 had a weighty self-importance (or a self-important weightiness?) that kept me from completely loving them. The dumbed-down X3 certainly wasn't preferable, but First Class is fueled by a healthy appreciation for pulp, from the sick reveal of Nazi villain Kevin Bacon's office to the snazzy retro production design to the appropriation of the Cuban Missile Crisis as the backdrop for a mutant origin story. The cast is strong, particularly Michael Fassbender as a young, angry Magneto on his way to becoming the mutant freedom fighter played by Ian McKellan. There's a cameo that ranks among the all-time best. And how can I not love a movie where (SPOILER) Kevin Bacon can absorb energy? (END SPOILER)

One of the movies I was most looking forward to was Super 8, J.J. Abrams' homage to Spielberg's '70s/'80s aesthetic. The trailer promised a throwback to the magic of E.T., Close Encounters and Joe Dante's Explorers. And it hits that sweet spot in the relationship between young protagonist Joe (Joel Courtney) and his dad (Kyle Chandler) as they struggle with the loss of Joe's mother, and in Joe and his friends' quest to finish their no-budget zombie movie. The relationships between the kids are handled sensitively and believably, and it made me nostalgic for my childhood friends and our own earnest attempts to realize our dreams. The movie's not quite the classic it wants to be, mostly because the extraterrestrial aspects of the story never quite cohere with the kids' emotional journey (as E.T. does so beautifully). But it's still a lot of fun, and the scene where Joe and the girl he's smitten with (Elle Fanning) run lines for the zombie movie takes on unexpected emotional resonance.

Probably the biggest shock of the summer is that Transformers: Dark of the Moon wasn't completely terrible. The limitation of the 3D cameras force Michael Bay to tone down his ADD-spectacular editing style and design actual shots with a purpose. The result is some surprisingly striking images and one of the few 3D movies to justify the extra dimension (the others being Avatar and Piranha). Of course, the movie's still coked-up, obnoxious, crass and frequently stupid. But Bay traded the previous movie's Minstrelbots for a bronzed John Malkovich, so on the whole it's an improvement. Now let us never speak of it again.

Then there's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II (or, as one local theatre's marquee called it, Harry Potter 2), which I heard more than one person my age describe as the defining movie experience of our generation. The midnight screening I attended certainly felt like geek Woodstock, and it was exciting to have that collective experience with a rapt audience. It's been hard to write about the Harry Potter series without repeating myself because the movies are so consistent - well-crafted prose with occasional moments of poetry (The Prisoner of Azkaban , Order of the Phoenix and the Nick Cave scene in Deathly Hallows: Part I remain the highlights). I was happy they left in Mrs. Weasley's best line, and genuinely moved by Snape's memories and Harry's meeting with the spirits of his family and teachers (both book and film series can be read as a gradual acceptance of the inevitable loss of all of our mentors). It may not be the defining movie of my generation, but it's easy to see why the boy wizard's speaks to grown-ups as much as kids.

If there's one thing that was disappointing this summer, it was the relative lack of solid counter-programming. There was The Tree of Life, a movie I've already argued about and will write about in greater detail once I can wrap my head around it. And Midnight in Paris, which I sadly missed. And Bridesmaids (which I wrote about here) was of course fantastic (I haven't seen The Hangover: Part II, and I hope it's better than I've heard). I thought One Day would be a nice, light romantic alternative, but it was surprisingly crappy. The biggest problem is Dexter (Jim Sturgess), the prick who is best friends with Emma (Anne Hathaway). As they engage in a 20-year will-they-or-won't-they, Dexter proved to be such a repugnant character, so completely devoid of any attractive or redeeming qualities, that I couldn't figure out why Emma would want to spend 15 minutes with the guy, let alone spending decades of her life pining for him. Hathaway's all-around loveliness can't save One Day from the couple's lack of chemistry, a gimmicky structure that thinks it's more clever than it is and a painfully cliched ending that renders the whole movie nihilistic (and not in a good way). Oh well, at least I have Hathaway as Catwoman to look forward to.

Besides The Tree of Life and Bridesmaids, the two best movies of the season were both late-summer surprises. After the brutal disappointment of Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes remake, I tried not to get too excited for Rise of the Planet of the Apes. I had nothing to worry about, as the Rupert Wyatt-directed prequel is everything I wanted it to be and more. James Franco stars as a terrible scientist who injects apes with genius genes in order to find a cure for Alzheimer's, completely fails at finding a cure and creates awful consequences for humanity in the process. As his pal Cesar, a super-smart chimp whose cruel mistreatment by humans motivates him to organize the ape uprising, Andy Serkis gives his best motion capture performance yet. The effects wizards at WETA do an outstanding job of making Cesar and his fellow revolutionaries believable characters. But what's terrific about the movie is that the effects and action setpieces are completely at the service of the story. The movie has a solid screenplay that intelligently engages with the "oppressed minority" subtext that made the original movies so great. By the end of the movie, you're actively rooting for the apes to beat the bejesus out of the humans; in an age of empty CGI spectacle, it's startling to be this moved by completely artificial characters. Here's hoping for a sequel - Viva la Revolucion!

I was also uncertain about Fright Night - I'm very fond of the original, and the remake's trailer was very iffy. Luckily, writer Marti Noxon and director Craig Gillespie remain expand upon the themes that made the original so memorable. Here, vampire-next-door Jerry Dandridge (Colin Farrell) is a sexy, charismatic threat to teenage nerd Charlie Brewster (Anton Yelchin). It's no coincidence that Charlie is a virgin; Jerry, who threatens to seduce and corrupt Charlie's out-of-his-league girlfriend Amy (Imogen Poots), would be Charlie's worst nightmare even if he wasn't a vampire. The movie understands the anxieties of geeky teenage boys all too well; Jerry's monologue about his girlfriend's "scent" is one of Ferrell's and best moments; he's sleazy and horny and clearly having a ball throughout the movie. The script is clever, David Tennant (the former Doctor Who) is hilarious as a Criss Angel-esque "dark magician," the desert atmosphere of the Las Vegas setting is very effective and there are a handful of great "Boo!" moments. Fright Night died quickly at the box office, so here's hoping it eventually finds the audience it deserves.



The most fun I've had at the movies this year, hands down, have been the times Jen and I have taken the kids with us. Luna and Tom's first trip to the movies was in July, to see Winnie the Pooh, and it was the perfect choice. It's a wonderful throwback to the classic Disney shorts, and Tom sat, popcorn in hand, eyes glued to the screen the entire time. Luna was just as interested with the theatre itself, and spent much of the movie checking out the vast, cavernous auditorium. Their second trip was a bargain matinee of Mr. Popper's Penguins, and while they weren't as into that one, Tom is now very interested in penguins - Happy Feet has joined the daily rotation with other favorites like Fantastic Mr. Fox, Toy Story, Spider-Man and Tron: Legacy (both kids are fascinated at the concept of travelling INSIDE the computer).

Luna's tastes are a bit more sophisticated - she asks me to save episodes of Louie and Curb Your Enthusiasm to watch with her. But she's not too mature to enjoy childish things - my best memories of the summer are the time spent at the playground, the awed look on their faces when Toot and Puddle visited the local library, our first trip to the beach and the near-religious experience Luna had at her first carnival. And when we recently took them to see The Lion King, they were both riveted. Everything I love about movies can be summed up in the moment, as the lights came up, when Luna exclaimed, "That was great!"

Shoshanna, Serena, Lulu

I'm finally turning in my answers, right at the tail end of summer, for the most recent movie quiz at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, this one administered by one Professor Ed Avery. I have yet to see Bigger Than Life, but I'm looking forward to it. All I know is that it involves James Mason scolding children, and that's enough for me.

1) Depending on your mood, your favorite or least-loved movie cliché.

In horror movies, the fake-out scare followed three beats later by the real thing. I love or hate it depending on the execution and my mood.

2) Regardless of whether or not you eventually caught up with it, which film classic have you lied about seeing in the past?

I'm a terrible liar, so I don't bother.

3) Roland Young or Edward Everett Horton?

Roland Young

4) Second favorite Frank Tashlin movie

The Girl Can't Help It

5) Clockwork Orange-- yes or no?

Yes, definitely.

6) Best/favorite use of gender dysphoria in a horror film (Ariel Schudson)

My first thought was The Silence of the Lambs, but as Hannibal Lecter explains, Jame Gumb isn't actually a transsexual. So let's go with Dressed to Kill.

7) Melanie Laurent or Blake Lively?

How can I not go with Melanie Laurent?

8) Best movie of 2011 (so far…)

The Tree of Life. Overwhelming, challenging, sometimes frustrating, beautiful and ultimately awe-inspiring.

9) Favorite screen performer with a noticeable facial deformity (Peg Aloi)

Michael Berryman

10) Lars von Trier: shithead or misunderstood comic savant? (Dean Treadway)

I wouldn't say "savant," but I thought the "Hitler" press conference was hilarious. He just kept digging himself deeper and deeper.

11) Timothy Carey or Henry Silva?

Henry Silva

12) Low-profile writer who deserves more attention from critics and /or audiences

Although Albert Brooks is certainly well-known, his work as a writer/director deserves the same attention given to Woody Allen. Modern Romance and Lost in America, in particular, are perfect screenplays.

13) Movie most recently viewed theatrically, and on DVD, Blu-ray or streaming

Theatrically: Fright Night. It's a blast, and worthy of the original. On DVD: Fiddler on the Roof. Way more entertaining than I remembered (though I last saw it when I was about five years old).

14) Favorite film noir villain

Noah Cross

15) Best thing about streaming movies?

The ease and availability of titles encourages people to be a little more adventurous in their movie-watching choices.

16) Fay Spain or France Nuyen? (Peter Nellhaus)

Fay Spain

17) Favorite Kirk Douglas movie that isn’t called Spartacus (Peter Nellhaus)

Paths of Glory

18) Favorite movie about cars

Two-Lane Blacktop

19) Audrey Totter or Marie Windsor?

Marie Windsor

20) Existing Stephen King movie adaptation that could use an remake/reboot/overhaul

It is one of the best books about childhood and the most terrifying book Stephen King ever wrote. The TV movie is creepy, the entire cast is strong and Tim Curry is of course outstanding as Pennywise. But it was limited by the restrictions of network TV, not just in content but in condensing some of the more esoteric aspects of the book's mythology. A three-hour movie or, perhaps better yet, an HBO miniseries that is more faithful to the book could be one of the all-time great horror movies. But the plans I've heard for a proposed remake (updating the timeline to present day, shooting for a PG-13) aren't very encouraging.

21) Low-profile director who deserves more attention from critics and/or audiences

Keith Gordon makes consistently interesting movies aimed at smart adult audiences that barely receive any attention. At least he's been busy in recent years directing episodes of Dexter.

22) What actor that you previously enjoyed has become distracting or a self-parody? (Adam Ross)

De Niro is the obvious answer, unfortunately.

23) Best place in the world to see a movie

The Brattle!

24) Charles McGraw or Sterling Hayden?

Sterling Hayden

25) Second favorite Yasujiro Ozu film

Floating Weeds

26) Most memorable horror movie father figure

Jack Torrance

27) Name a non-action-oriented movie that would be fun to see in Sensurround

Moulin Rouge

28) Chris Evans or Ryan Reynolds?

I worked as an extra on a Chris Evans movie, and he seemed like a pretty good guy. And he's great in Scott Pilgrim ("That's actually hilarious.")

29) Favorite relatively unknown supporting player, from either or both the classic and the modern era

Dick Miller

30) Real-life movie location you most recently visited or saw

The first one that comes to mind is the Whately Diner, which I used in Black Light and, I found out later, was also used extensively in In Dreams.

31) Second favorite Budd Boetticher movie

I'm ashamed to admit I have to pass on this one (see #2).

32) Mara Corday or Julie Adams?

Mara Corday

33) Favorite Universal-International western

Winchester '73

34) What's the biggest "gimmick" that's drawn you out to see a movie? (Sal Gomez)

Probably the time Images Cinema had a 3D Porn Night.

35) Favorite actress of the silent era

Louise Brooks

36) Best Eugene Pallette performance (Larry Aydlette)

Friar Tuck in The Adventures of Robin Hood

37) Best/worst remake of the 21st century so far? (Dan Aloi)

Best: Solaris Worst: The Fog

38) What could multiplex owners do right now to improve the theatrical viewing experience for moviegoers? What could moviegoers do?

Owners: Take a cue from a good theatre chain like Cinemagic or Cinemark and make perfect presentation a priority (forgive the alliteration). Moviegoers can turn off their fucking phones.

Do you want a bite of my big bear sandwich? It's got meat and cheeses.

The marketing campaign for Bridesmaids successfully positioned it as "the female Hangover." While both are raunchy ensemble comedies revolving around wedding festivities, this is a misleading comparison. The humor of The Hangover was completely situational, stemming entirely from the "What happened last night?" premise. While Bridesmaids also has more than its share of sight gags, physical comedy and random humor, the laughs in Paul Feig's movie are much more character-driven. It works as well as it does because screenwriters Kristen Wiig (also the star, of course) and Annie Rummalo and director Paul Feig understand that, for all its broader jokes (which are very funny), the biggest and deepest laughs come from our sympathy/identification with struggling maid of honor Annie (Wiig) as she slowly unravels. Aided by a strong ensemble cast, Bridesmaids is the best comedy of discomfort in recent memory.

We're introduced to Annie as she's having awkward sex with boneheaded stud (Jon Hamm) with whom she's stuck in an unfulfilling "friends with benefits" relationship. Annie's boyfriend recently left her after the cake shop they ran together went out of business, and she's stuck in a rut. When her best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) asks her to be her maid of honor, she is quickly overwhelmed by the job and increasingly upstaged by Lillian's wealthy new friend Helen (Rose Byrne). Watching Annie unravel over the course of planning the wedding leads to several raunchy setpieces, most famously the collective bout of explosive food poisoning the bridal party suffers while trying on dresses. But what distinguishes Bridesmaids are scenes like the one where Annie and Helen repeatedly one-up each other in giving the most heartfelt toast at the engagement party. Feig smartly allows moments like these to breathe, running past frustration into disbelief at the escalation of all-too-relatable embarrassing behavior. At its best, Bridesmaids recalls early Albert Brooks in its precise observation of people behaving poorly.

At the center of it is Wiig's performance - she's been one of the best things about SNL for years (along with Bill Hader), and she's given strong supporting performances in Walk Hard, Adventureland and several dozen other movies. As Annie, Wiig reveals that she's not just funny but also a solid actress, finding laughs in each scene while also convincingly playing the emotional truth behind the joke. When Annie watches Cast Away, sobbing as Wilson drifts out to sea, we laugh because most of us know how that moment feels (maybe not specifically Cast Away, but that's beside the point). Bridesmaids is funnier because we can relate to Annie and want to see her dig herself out of her hole. And Wiig also kills in the movie's broader moments - when a food poisoning-stricken Annie eats an almond to demonstrate that she feels fine, the blend of repulsion, nausea and denial on her face is priceless. The best comedians can be hilarious without ever saying a word, and Wiig is quickly becoming one of the best.

Some critics have argued that the film's raunchiness is actually sexist; as Karina Longworth put it, "Comedy of humiliation is one thing; a fat lady shitting in a sink is another." To this, I say baloney. It's Feig's willingness to allow the female characters to make complete asses of themselves that makes Bridesmaids far less sexist than the many romantic comedies that pander to self-perpetuating assumptions about what women want. Besides, it's the men that are completely marginalized in Bridesmaids; I smiled when I noticed Tim Heidecker as the groom, but I'm not sure he had a single line of dialogue in the entire movie. The men who do make an impression are Hamm (I love his super-serious delivery of the line "Cup my balls") and Chris O'Dowd as a kind cop who may be the perfect guy for Annie because he's willing to tell her the truth. That said, it's Wiig, Rudolph and the stable of bridesmaids who own this movie, the standout being Melissa McCarthy as the tough, stocky, perpetually horny Megan. When Megan, giving Annie a pep talk, explains that her tough exterior came from a lifetime of bullying, the scene both earns its pathos and makes a later scene involving Megan and some Subway sploshing even more hilarious. Bridesmaids walks a fine line between empathy and belly laughs, and does so beautifully; unlike a lot of "chick flicks," it earns its late-in-the-movie sing-along.

Satan is ever ready to seduce us with sensual delights.

This is my contribution to White Elephant 2011 at Silly Hats Only.

It's revealing to place Ken Russell's The Devils in context with two other highly controversial movies released in 1971, A Clockwork Orange and Straw Dogs. The shocking material in Kubrick's film was framed within a very cerebral movie-length dialogue about society and free will. Peckinpah employed the brutal rape scene in Straw Dogs to provoke audiences into considering man's savage nature. In The Devils, sex and violence are used to condemn organized religion and moral hypocrisy, yet the film (and I don't mean this as a criticism) doesn't really work as serious social commentary. Russell's film is more of a wet raspberry blown in the direction of God and the crimes committed in His name. Known best for his unapologetic directorial flamboyance, Russell is like Kubrick with a raging boner, and The Devils is like the scene in A Clockwork Orange where Alex dreams of flogging Jesus Christ extended to feature length. Its images of nubile, bare-assed nuns writhing in delirious fits of sexual ecstasy and religious hysteria do not just aim to provoke, but to shock, arouse, disorient and completely overwhelm us.

Based on the book The Devils of Loudon by Aldous Huxley and the play The Devils by John Whiting, the film is set in 17th century France, in the village of Loudon, which is under threat of demolition due to a plan by Cardinal Richelieu to eradicate such small villages to stop the rise of Protestantism. After the death of thevillage's governor, Father Grandier (Oliver Reed) has been placed in charge of Loudon and has organized the village to stop its destruction. But after Sister Jeanne (Vanessa Redgrave), who is obsessed with Grandier, reveals Grandier's sexual affairs to another priest (Murray Melvin), claiming that he has bewitched her, the baron (Dudley Sutton) tasked with destroying the town sends for Father Pierre Barre (Michael Gothard), an inquisitor and exorcist whose job it is to investigate whether Grandier has possessed the entire nunnery. Barre's interrogations amount more to brainwashing, as he compels the nuns through suggestion and bizarelly fetishistic rituals to believe that they are possessed. The subsequent scenes of the nuns tearing off their clothing and engaging in a variety of blasphemous acts is a potent statement of the danger of religion's repressive force - it is the power of the church's message of an ongoing war between good and evil that inspires' the nuns' depravity.

At the same time, Roger Ebert wasn't exactly wrong when he wrote in his review that "We are filled with righteous indignation as we bear witness to the violation of the helpless nuns, which is all the more horrendous because, as Russell fearlessly reveals, all the nuns, without exception were young and stacked." There's little question that Russell is getting off on having assembled so much explicit desecration of all things holy in every frame. There's a definite sense throughout The Devils of having gotten away with it; it's sort of endearing, in Mark Kermode's documentary about the film, to hear the middle-aged actresses recall the shoot with a giggly fondness for the naughty things they did when they were young. The Devils is as interesting a historical record as it is a story; it's inconceivable that a big-budget British-American co-production directed by an acclaimed English filmmaker would even remotely approach the level of disregard for good taste and mass appeal that Russell's film flaunts. Try to imagine Tom Hooper remaking Salo and you get the idea.

It's Russell's libidinous sensibility that drives the film's admittedly questionable but nevertheless potent thesis - that sexual repression is at the root of most violent conflict between humans. All of the historical figures depicted are homosexuals or sadists or rich weirdos. The deformed Sister Jeanne is fixated on Grandier, fantasizing about the priest as a bleeding Christ whose wounds she tenderly sucks off. Most potent is Father Barre - the intense, slightly androgynous Gothard (who could have played Alex in A Clockwork Orange had Malcolm McDowell not been available) seethes with madness as he compels the nuns to do increasingly strange things in the name of God. The bizarre exorcism climaxes, quite literally, with the infamous "rape of Christ" sequence, which was banned from the original release and only reappeared in Kermode's documentary a few years ago. The images of the nuns having their way with a large crucifix not only predate The Exorcist, they are a perfectly blunt, graphic and unforgettable representation of the possible dark underside of Christ's "marriage" to his followers.

My favorite thing about The Devils is the casting of Oliver Reed as the village's advocate for progressive thought and free love. A softer, more counterculturally oriented actor might have been a more obvious choice; instead, peace and love are embodied by a burly, hairy man's man who looks like he might bugger a lady without asking first if he's had a few too many. Grandier's persecution and martyrdom are tragic to Russell in that they represent the triumph of celibacy over full-bodied vulgar masculinity. Warner Brothers has famously cancelled the DVD release of The Devils repeatedly, odd given that they've released special editions of A Clockwork Orange and the director's cut of Natural Born Killers. WB's execs need to relax and embrace this significant footnote in the studio's storied history - that moment, 40 years ago, when nunsploitation briefly went mainstream.

Top 10: 2010

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Top 10: 2000

1. Almost Famous (Crowe)
2. In the Mood for Love (Wong)
3. American Psycho (Harron)
4. Wonder Boys (Hanson)
5. Traffic (Soderbergh)
6. The Virgin Suicides (Coppola)
7. Dancer in the Dark (Von Trier)
8. Memento (Nolan)
9. High Fidelity (Frears)
10. Best in Show (Guest)

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!

This year's roster of Best Director nominees includes three of the "Rebels on the Backlot," the filmmakers profiled in Sharon Waxman's book of the same name who emerged in the past 20 years and helped blur the line between independent and studio filmmaking. It's exciting to see the mavericks of my formative years of movie love - filmmakers like David Fincher and Darren Aronofsky - celebrated by mainstream Hollywood for making films that speak to wide audiences even as they retain their directors' distinctive voices. Among them is David O. Russell, the director of The Fighter, who has bounced back from the never-completed comedy Nailed to make a boxing movie that, in a subgenre riddled with cliches, is surprisingly affecting. Equal parts Rocky and Truffaut, with a pitch-perfect sense of character and location, The Fighter is the rare crowd-pleasing sports movie that never talks down to its audience.

Based on the true story of Mickey Ward, a junior welterweight from Lowell, Massachusetts, The Fighter begins with Mickey (Mark Wahlberg) struggling in the ring and stuck in the shadow of his half-brother and sparring partner, Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale). A former pro welterweight who became addicted to crack, Dicky’s old glories, along with his domineering mother Alice’s (Melissa Leo) mismanagement of his career, lead to Ward’s retreat from boxing. As Mickey is inspired by new girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams) to take control of his life in and out of the ring, The Fighter escapes familiar territory largely thanks to the film’s excellent use of Lowell as a location. Russell blends strong character work with a carefully observed portrait of the film’s working-class neighborhoods; the verisimilitude goes so far as to have Ward’s real-life trainer Mickey O’Keefe play himself. The film follows these characters and their city with a close-up, character driven visual style (influenced by the French New Wave) that brings to mind the handheld approach of The Wrestler (Aronofsky was originally going to direct The Fighter and retains an executive producer credit). What separates The Fighter from The Wrestler and most other sports movies is the light comic touch Russell brings to the material, presenting Dicky and the rest of Mickey’s family with a lightness that avoids the story’s potential for melodrama and shows a profound sense of respect for Mickey, his family and his hometown.

At the heart of the film is the relationship between Mickey and Dicky, and both actors are terrific. Interesting that it took playing a crackhead for Bale to lighten up; he captures the likeable, slightly naïve charm of the real Dicky. Wahlberg (who shepherded Ward’s story to the screen) hasn’t received as much praise as Bale, but he’s just as good as the slightly introverted Mickey; surrounded by bigger, louder characters, he demonstrates why listening is the most important tool an actor has. It would be clear to any director that the brothers’ relationship drives the film; what Russell brings to The Fighter that other directors might overlook is the importance the women in Mickey’s life. Alice at first seems monstrous, but Leo’s performance gradually reveals the great love she has for her sons, even if she puts it in the wrong places (Jack McGee is also great, and hilarious, as Mickey's henpecked dad). The veritable Greek chorus of Mickey’s many sisters are hilarious and completely believable. And Amy Adams is great as Charlene - turns out she’s as good at playing earthy and self-reliant as she is at playing princesses, and the scenes between her and Wahlberg are surprisingly sexy. It’s the three-dimensional portrait of Mickey’s complicated family that makes The Fighter work; when the inevitable climatic fight arrives, the victory belongs to the whole family. Russell has long specialized in examinations of dysfunctional families; it’s nice to see the director arriving at an honest, fully earned portrait of a family coming together.

Having started making movies in the 1980s, the Coen brothers are a sort of spiritual link between the maverick directors of the ‘70s and the new bunch. They’ve also found themselves being accepted into the mainstream in recent years; their newest film, True Grit, is their first unqualified blockbuster (as well as the first smash hit western in decades). Based on the Charles Portis novel previously adapted into the movie that won John Wayne the Oscar, True Grit finds the Coens bringing their unique sensibility to the story of 14-year-old Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld), who hires grizzled U.S. Marshal Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to track down Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), the dim-witted crook who killed her dad. Watching the original on AMC a few weeks ago, I was struck by how close the two films are, almost scene-for-scene, and yet the movies feel completely different - it’s a fascinating reminder that what matters most is not the story itself but how it is told. Whereas director Henry Hathaway staged True Grit as a sun-drenched adventure yarn, the Coens have made a rouge-edged, unsparing and thrillingly alive western, with a Cogburn that speaks in a often-indecipherable growl and finds his heroism almost accidentally (frankly, Bridges mops the floor with the Duke).

But while the brothers’ offbeat sense of humor is definitely present in the film (few other filmmakers would have included the “bear doctor” scene), its lack of ironic distance makes it a departure for the filmmakers. It’s not an anti-western in the No Country For Old Men vein; while it has a wry sense of humor about Cogburn and Texas Ranger Laboeuf’s (Matt Damon) macho posturing, it’s also driven by a very real romantic admiration for true heroism. Snobs have branded the film a sell-out for the Coens, but this stems from the common incorrect reading of their films as misanthropic – from Norville Barnes to Marge Gunderson, the Coens have always been on the side of the good guys, even when (like Tommy Lee Jones’ Sheriff Bell) they prove outmatched. If anything, it represents the directors growing more diverse; as skilled as they are at being smartasses, it’s exciting to witness them go straight for the heart. They succeed largely thanks to Bridges and Damon, and especially Steinfeld, who is astonishingly assured as the strong, self-reliant Mattie. It’s a greatly entertaining adventure, beautifully shot by Roger Deakins (as if I needed to tell you that), and, in its final minutes, it reveals itself as unexpectedly heartwarming. After the socks to the gut that were their last several endings, it’s just as bracing to find the brothers arriving at a moment of grace; if that doesn’t represent growth in an artist, I don't know what does.

Top 10: 1990

1. Goodfellas (Scorsese)
2. Miller's Crossing (Coen)

3. Wild at Heart (Lynch)

4. Edward Scissorhands (Burton)

5. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (McNaughton)

6. The Witches (Roeg)

7. Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (Almodovar)

8. Total Recall (Verhoeven)

9. Cry-Baby (Waters)

10. Gremlins 2 (Dante)

There were also a lot of terrible movies released in 1990. Ghost Dad, Problem Child, Spaced Invaders, Rocky V...oy...

Top 10: 1980

One of the best years in film ever. A list of eleven through twenty would be as strong as many years' top tens. Also, I realized it's the only year that my three favorite directors all released a new movie.

1. The Shining (Kubrick)
2. Raging Bull (Scorsese)

3. The Elephant Man (Lynch)

4. The Empire Strikes Back (Kershner)

5. Inferno (Argento)
6. Popeye (Altman)

7. Bad Timing (Roeg)

8. Dressed to Kill (De Palma)

9. Kagemusha (Kurosawa)

10. The Fog (Carpenter)

Statham, Scorsese, Svenson

The latest movie quiz at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule (courtesy of Professor Hubert Farnsworth, pictured above) is the first I've been able to participate in for a while. Thanks, Professor (and Dennis) for managing to keep the movie quiz - which has become a sort of staple of SLIFR - so much fun for so long.

1) Best Movie of 2010

With a few outliers remaining to be seen, at this point it looks like I'm going to have to follow the herd and go with The Social Network.

2) Second-favorite Roman Polanski Movie

Repulsion

3) Jason Statham or Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson

The Rock is a likeable enough guy, but Statham has Snatch and the knowing homoeroticism between himself and Stallone in The Expendables that carries on the proud tradition of Tango and Cash. I'll go with Statham even though my girlfriend would probably leave me for him.

4) Favorite movie that could be classified as a genre hybrid

Alien

5) How important is foreknowledge of a film’s production history? Should it factor into one’s reaction to a film?

A movie has to be considered in the context of the time and place that produced it, but direct behind-the-scenes info seems peripheral to the movie's success or failure.

6) William Powell & Myrna Loy or Cary Grant & Irene Dunne

Cary Grant & Irene Dunne

7) Best Actor of 2010

Jeff Bridges, True Grit

8) Most important lesson learned from the past decade of watching movies

Despite the conventional wisdom that dumb is the safest commercial bet, most people really do want to see a good story told smartly when they go to the movies. It's just harder to sell smart than stupid.

9) Last movie seen (DVD/Blu-ray/theater)

On Blu-Ray, Natural Born Killers - so very 90s, but still effective as sensory overload, particuarly in hi-def. In theatres, Blue Valentine - painful to watch but brilliantly acted and beautifully shot.

10) Most appropriate punishment for director Tom Six

I suspect Six is a sadomasochist, so I'm not sure what kind of punishment he wouldn't enjoy. Perhaps to be met with indifferent shrugs?

11) Best under-the-radar movie almost no one else has had the chance to see

Black Moon, Louis Malle's 1975 post-apocalyptic retelling of Alice in Wonderland. Still unavailable on R1 DVD (it would be perfect for Criterion).

12) Sheree North or Angie Dickinson

Angie Dickinson

13) Favorite nakedly autobiographical movie

All That Jazz

14) Movie which best evokes a specific real-life place

I agree with Anonymous - the 42nd Street I've visited in my lifetime is nothing like the one in Taxi Driver, but thanks to Scorsese I feel like I've been there too.

15) Best Director of 2010

David Fincher, The Social Network
16) Second-favorite Farrelly Brothers Movie

There's Something About Mary
17) Favorite holiday movie

My new favorite is Elf.

18) Best Actress of 2010

Natalie Portman, Black Swan

19) Joe Don Baker or Bo Svenson

My my my my Mitchell!

20) Of those notable figures in the world of the movies who died in 2010, name the one you’ll miss the most

Dennis Hopper

21) Think of a movie with a notable musical score and describe what it might feel like without that accompaniment.

Without Cavalleria Rusticana, Raging Bull would be even bleaker than it already is.

22) Best Screenplay of 2010

The Social Network

23) Movie You Feel Most Evangelistic About Right Now

Synecdoche, New York. I could talk someone's ear off about everything I think and feel for hours or I can just pop that movie in the DVD player and spare us both a lot of time.

24) Worst/funniest movie accent ever

Thandee Newton as an alien in W.

25) Best Cinematography of 2010

Shutter Island

26) Olivia Wilde or Gemma Arterton

Olivia Wilde

27) Name the three best movies you saw for the first time in 2010 (Thanks, Larry!)

Fearless, Modern Romance, Zoolander

28) Best romantic movie couple of 2010

Ben Stiller and Greta Gerwig, Greenberg. They're so obviously, uncomfortably wrong for each other, and yet they're probably meant to be together.

29) Favorite shock/surprise ending

Brazil

30) Best cinematic reason to have stayed home and read a book in 2010

A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010). I actually fell asleep in the theatre (IRONY).

31) Movies in 2011 could make me much happier if they’d only ______________

retire the orange/blue trend in color timing.

Top 10: 1970

1. El Topo (Jodorowsky)
2. The Conformist (Bertolucci)
3. Performance (Roeg)
4. Five Easy Pieces (Rafelson)
5. Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (Meyer)
6. Brewster McCloud (Altman)
7. Catch-22 (Nichols)
8. Husbands (Cassavetes)
9. The Wild Child (Truffaut)
10. Gimme Shelter (Maysles/Maysles/Zwerin)

What happened to my sweet girl?

The commercial success of Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan is kind of astonishing, not just because sexually explicit films usually scare audiences away but because it's the most thematically slippery mainstream hit in recent memory. A dizzying collision of high and low art, that owes an equal debt to Powell, Polanski, Argento and Verhoeven, Black Swan flirts with camp even as it reaches for transcendence. The film's mixture of close-up character study, literally black-and-white archetypes, overt symbolic archetypes, horror movie tropes and kinky sex should be a complete mess, and yet Black Swan is the most wildly entertaining movie of the year. I can list all the elements and influences that the film draws from, but ultimately I can't explain quite why the damn thing works. What a thrill that an an American film in 2010 should be so pleasurably elusive.

It's that indefinable spark of pure creation that eludes Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), a dancer with a prestigious ballet company in New York. The hardest-working dancer in the company, Nina is given a big break when she's cast as the Swan Queen in the company's production of Swan Lake. A driven perfectionist, Nina is perfect for the role but struggles with director Thomas' (Vincent Cassel) insistence that she also play the seductive Black Swan. Nina, who lives with her controlling, emotionally unstable mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), is a deeply repressed, fragile innocent who cannot "let go," as Tomas repeatedly demands of her. To Tomas, a virile, possibly dangerous man who Nina is smitten with, to "let go" means getting off - ceding technical perfection to emotional release as one does during sexual climax. But Thomas' rather narrow concept of letting go does not anticipate how deeply Nina has buried so much of herself; as Nina begins to let go, her world begins to spiral dangerously out of control.

Like Repulsion and The Tenant, Black Swan is a film of interiors - from beginning to end, we rarely stray from Nina's fragmented point of view. The way that Aronofsky frames Nina's inner life is a fascinating extension of his previous films - the bold use of archetypal imagery of Pi and The Fountain married with the grittier, character-driven approach of The Wrestler. Aronofsky and DP Matthew Libatique relentlessly follow Portman's every move in the early scenes, the grainy 16mm images threaten to disappear right into Nina's mind at any moment. As the more hallucinatory elements of the film emerge, Aronofsky never shies away from following the black/white sexual dichotomy through to its logical end (one nice touch - the color pallette of the film, largely muted pinks and greys at the beginning, grows darker through the film). The result is bigger than life but not heavyhanded; Nina's perception merges with the elevated emotion of ballet in, its a way that does feel true to the creative experience.

Portman is stunning in the role, not just because she convinces as a professional ballerina but because she throws herself wholeheartedly into every moment of Nina's journey. In its own way, Black Swan derives as much of a charge from the parallels between Nina and Portman's public persona as The Wrestler did from Randy the Ram/Mickey Rourke. While Portman has always been a talented actress, there's a strong sense in much of her work ("Hotel Chevalier" aside) that she's quite inhibited in many ways, and she has confirmed as much in interviews. Here, as Nina begins her long descent, Portman's work is unflinching; not only is she fearless in scenes that would terrify just about any actor in their frankness, but she's also never been so completely emotionally exposed. The result is stunning - there are closeups of Portman that are worthy of Maria Falconetti. She's aided by a strong supporting cast - Cassel is wonderfully hammy, Hershey is frighteningly well-cast as Portman's mom, Winona Ryder kills in her few scenes as a bitter older dancer, and Mila Kunis is terrific as Lily, the sexually confident dancer who aims to take Nina's place (or so Nina believes). When the much talked-about sex scene between Portman and Kunis arrives, Aronofsky and his actresses have developed the tension between the two perfectly that it feels less like a hook-up than a collision. And though yes, it's a scene of two attractive young women having sex, it's at least as creepy as it is sexy, especially in light of what it ultimately reveals about Nina. The entire film is like that, seducing us into some very dark places.

So what, finally, is Black Swan really about? Aronofsky describes it as a movie about performance, a companion piece to The Wrestler, and it is most certainly that (though the final shot's callback to the earlier film's ending may be a bit too on-the-nose). But it doesn't quite fit, with its more horrific elements, next to The Company or All That Jazz as the real-life story of a dance company. At the same time, it's not quite a horror movie or, if it is, it defies our expectations of what happens in a horror movie. Is what Black Swan has to say about the creative process muddled by its pulpier thriller-movie tropes, or is it a thriller movie which its director is trying to elevate about its roots? Perhaps the answer lies in ballet itself, which strives for physical perfection and deeper meaning even as it embraces melodrama and emotional excess. Perhaps the world of ballet is the perfect setting for a director who, clever as he can be, is completely incapable of ironic detachment. In that sense this is a logical step forward for the director; he's blown my mind before, but this is the first time he's seduced me.

Top 100 (2011 Edition)

It's been a couple of years since the last time I updated my list of favorite movies, and I'm in a very different place in my life, both geographically and emotionally. For the most part, my life has changed for the better; I'm definitely a lot happier than I've been in a long time. I'm not sure if or how that has affected this list, which isn't drastically different than it was two and a half years ago.

Most of the people in my day-to-day life know me as a "movie expert" and kind of a snob, while compared to most of my internet cinephile friends and the writers I enjoy reading, my favorites seem awfully American and new. I'll admit that when I was younger, this made me feel a bit self-conscious; now I feel like maybe the final lesson for a movie lover, after amassing an eclectic knowledge of film spanning genres, decades and countries, is to embrace the fact that you just like the stuff you like.



1. Blue Velvet (David Lynch, 1986)
2. The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980)
3. Nashville (Robert Altman, 1975)
4. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
5. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (Steven Spielberg, 1982)
6. Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
7. Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, 1980)
8. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007)
9. Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)
10. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)



11. Carrie (Brian De Palma, 1976)
12. Boogie Nights (Paul Thomas Anderson, 1997)
13. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
14. Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)
15. Kill Bill vol. 2 (Quentin Tarantino, 2003)
16. Kill Bill vol. 1 (Quentin Tarantino, 2004)
17. Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975)
18. The Man Who Fell to Earth (Nicolas Roeg, 1976)
19. Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978)
20. All That Jazz (Bob Fosse, 1979)



21. Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974)
22. A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971)
23. The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
24. Don’t Look Now (Nicolas Roeg, 1973)
25. Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)
26. Fargo (Joel Coen, 1996)
27. The Elephant Man (David Lynch, 1980)
28. Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973)
29. Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
30. Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978)



31. Synecdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman, 2008)
32. The Fly (David Cronenberg, 1986)
33. Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)
34. Children of Men (Alfonso Cuaron, 2006)
35. Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (Werner Herzog, 1979)
36. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Milos Forman, 1975)
37. Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1977)
38. Aguirre the Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972)
39. The Empire Strikes Back (Irvin Kershner, 1980)
40. Jules and Jim (Francois Truffaut, 1962)



41. Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966)
42. The Last Temptation of Christ (Martin Scorsese, 1988)
43. McCabe and Mrs. Miller (Robert Altman, 1971)
44. Blow Out (Brian De Palma, 1981)
45. The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)
46. Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)
47. 8 ½ (Federico Fellini, 1963)
48. Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)
49. Ran (Akira Kurosawa, 1985)
50. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Steven Spielberg, 1977)


51. Lolita (stanley Kubrick, 1962)
52. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004)
53. The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
54. The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949)
55. Schindler’s List (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
56. Sid and Nancy (Alex Cox, 1986)
57. Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958)
58. Repulsion (Roman Polanski, 1965)
59. Last Tango in Paris (Bernard Bertolucci, 1972)
60. My Own Private Idaho (Gus Van Sant, 1991)


61. Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick, 1978)
62. The Searchers (John Ford, 1956)
63. Betty Blue (Jean-Jacques Beneiex, 1986)
64. Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman, 1972)
65. Once Upon a Time in America (Sergio Leone, 1984)
66. Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
67. Inferno (Dario Argento, 1980)
68. The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
69. Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999)
70. Harold and Maude (Hal Ashby, 1971)



71. Y tu mama tambien (Alfonso Cuaron, 2001)
72. Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985)
73. El Topo (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1970)
74. Zodiac (David Fincher, 2007)
75. Magnolia (Paul Thomas Anderson, 1999)
76. The American Friend (Wim Wenders, 1977)
77. Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, 1996)
78. Orphee (Jean Cocteau, 1949)
79. The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008)
80. The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky, 2006)


81. Belle de Jour (Luis Bunuel, 1967)
82. Miller's Crossing (Joel Coen, 1990)
83. Wings of Desire (Wim Wenders, 1987)
84. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, 2007)
85. Rushmore (Wes Anderson, 1998)
86. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Philip Kaufman, 1978)
87. No Country For Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007)
88. Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (Sam Peckinpah, 1973)
89. Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008)
90. O Lucky Man! (Lindsay Anderson, 1973)

91. Secretary (Steven Shainberg, 2002)
92. Stroszek (Werner Herzog, 1977)
93. Phantom of the Paradise (Brian De Palma, 1974)
94. Hedwig and the Angry Inch (John Cameron Mitchell, 2001)
95. Ed Wood (Tim Burton, 1994)
96. The Big Lebowski (Joel Coen, 1998)
97. Creepshow (George A. Romero, 1982)
98. The Ice Storm (Ang Lee, 1997)
99. True Romance (Tony Scott, 1993)
100. Sideways (Alexander Payne, 2004)