Showing posts with label sunshine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunshine. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Best of the Decade: Volume 2

Back again, and ready to list so hard your metacarpals fall off. It's that kind of day. Moving right along then, we'll continue the best films of the decade. Today: #30-21.

30. A History of Violence (2005)
-directed by David Cronenberg
I love this movie because viewers can get exactly as much out of it as they like. If you want a standard action-thriller, you've got it. If you want a familial drama that explores the passed-on similarities between parents and posterity, you've got it. If you want an intellectual piece about man as animal, and the prevalence of violence in society, you've got it. This film offers an abyss of thought, but never foists it on the viewer. In other words, if you feel like interpreting things ad infinitum, this movie works great. If you'd like to watch Viggo Mortensen break several noses, the movie's great for that as well. It's rare that a film like this comes along; one that seamlessly merges stereotypical action violence with stronger thematic undertones. Director David Cronenberg's trademark, however, is doing just that. Watch for a brilliant turn by William Hurt: he enters the film at the very end, and only for about ten minutes, but he leaves an unforgettable mark on the film.

29. Collateral (2004)
-directed by Michael Mann
Here's another film that plays in the intersection of art and commerce. On the surface, Collateral is a fast-paced action film, involving hit-men, car chases, and gun-fights on the elevated train. All this is just fine, but alone, it wouldn't be enough to get the movie on this particular list. Director Michael Mann takes the material and elevates it with style, substance and great performances. Special mention must go to Tom Cruise: though I can't say I'm a fan of his, Collateral, like Magnolia and Born on the Fourth of July, show Cruise to be an actor of subtlety, range, and unplumbed depth. His Vincent, a world-weary hit man with a knack for words, is a great creation. Jamie Foxx and Jada Pinkett-Smith are more than up to the task of matching him, however, and both give finely tuned performances. Mann's signature directorial style is easily evident here, as he returns to the crime world in LA after so memorably capturing it in Heat. The film's script is witty and literate; the monologue about Santa Claus and his ugly, unloved brother, Black Peter, is a wonderful highlight.

28. The Virgin Suicides (2000)
-directed by Sophia Coppola
Let me just get this out there: I love Sophia Coppola. I love her writing, which is poetic without being stilted. I love her style, Which is fluid, surreal, almost dream-like, while taking place in seemingly mundane environments. I even love her employment of indie bands for soundtracking, even if it launched the heinous 'Nick and Nora'-style movies that we get now. She's only made three movies, but two of them will appear on this list, and the other easily could have as well. The Virgin Suicides is Coppola's most lyrical piece; she errs toward poetry and visual beauty more often than not, and it's never more evident than in this adaptation of the already poetic and dreamlike novel by Jeffrey Eugedenides. This film eloquently and touchingly captures a snapshot of youth, both before and after the loss of innocence. The Virgin Suicides evokes, perhaps, a warm summer, a chat by the fire, a night with a lover: things that are beautiful and cherished, but disappear all too easily. More than any other director working today, Sophia Coppola paints with tones and moods more than with words or images, and her films are great because of it.

27. Sunshine (2007)
-directed by Danny Boyle
I'll be the first to say it: Sunshine isn't perfect. I'm not the biggest fan of the last fifteen to twenty minutes; I'll admit the film very nearly loses itself before finding redemption in the last two shots. What comes before that, however, is so accomplished, so memorable, so balls-out brave, that I'm willing to forgive the film its mis-steps. Sunshine is valiant stab at achieving 'hard' science fiction, aka science fiction with an emphasis on science rather than fiction. Danny Boyle seems to be channeling Kubrick in the film's early passages, which build up a slow, creeping sense of unease that burns under the film like a persistent itch. The design of the film is absolutely spectacular: made for a fraction of the budgets of larger sci-fi films, Sunshine looks much, much better and far more realistic. The Icharus 2 is one of recent cinema's most memorable set-pieces. To the fantastic sense of pacing, eye for style, and beautiful designs, the film adds an accomplished ensemble: Cillian Murphy, Cliff Curtis, Rose Byrne, Michelle Yeoh, Chris Evans, Troy Garity, Benedict Wong, and Hiroyuki Sanada create a perfect machine of believability. Rarely does one find such a fleshed-out, developed cast. As if all this weren't enough, Boyle and screen-writer Alex Garland play with the idea of what happens when you find and converse with God.

26. No Country For Old Men (2007)
-directed by Joel and Ethan Coen
This is easily one of the most technically proficient, classically well-made films in recent memory. Everything in this film approaches perfection: the pacing is almost unbearable, and I mean that in the best way. Suspense builds and builds and builds, pay-offs come fast and unbidden, and then the slow, steady building of tension starts again. This film hits you like the ocean: slowly building, moving faster and faster until you're slapped by a wall of water, and then as quickly as it came, it's gone again, and there's nothing you can do but wait for the next wave. The performances are exercises in brilliance: Javier Bardem, as Anton Chigurgh, the angel of death, gathers most of the laurels, but it's hard to ignore Josh Brolin, Kelly MacDonald, and Woody Harrelson acting for all they're worth. The script is filled with moments of cold, stark beauty that pierce like wind on a winter day. So why isn't this one higher on the list? I don't know. If this were a list of greats, it'd be near the top. I suppose my only complaint about No Country For Old Men is it doesn't quite stir the emotion in me that the other films on this list do. Not that this film doesn't stir any emotion: I'm just saying that what the films higher on this list do to me mean more than the technical perfection of this one.

25. Minority Report (2002)
-directed by Steven Spielberg
Say what you like about Spielberg: some people complain, saying he's too mainstream, too sentimental, too commercial. Well, yes: Spielberg is mainstream, commercial, and sentimental. He's also created some of the most iconic films in memory. I've always been one to prefer Spielberg's more 'out there' attempts to his Big, Serious Dramas. In other words, I'll take Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, E.T., and Raiders of the Lost Ark any day over Schindler's List. Minority Report tiptoes the line between the two kinds of Spielberg: yes, the film is quite serious, but in a rather goofy sci-fi sense of the word. I mean 'goofy' with the best possible connotations: I love this film. I love the performances (even Tom Cruise), I love the gorgeous futuristic design, I love the impressionistic cinematography of modern-day demigod Janusz Kaminski. I love the film as a treatise on free will. And, God help me, I love the moments of levity, of which there are many. This film is commercial, mainstream, and sentimental, but it's also flat-out dazzling.

24. Adaptation (2002)
-directed by Spike Jonze
Charlie Kaufman. What can I say about Charlie Kaufman? In short: he's the most inventive writer working today. Most people will hold up Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind as the peak of his creativity, but I prefer his other films; specifically, this one, the film in which, for whatever reason, he writes himself into the story. More than that, he writes his own story: attempting to adapt The Orchid Thief. He dramatizes this while dramatizing the book itself, and then throwing good taste out the window to make the kind of ending that he himself promises in the movie that he'll never write. It's crazy, meta fun at its absolute best. Toss in Nicholas Cage, who here proves that he's a fantastic actor when he wants to be, Chris Cooper, being both incredibly compelling and completely insane, and Meryl Streep as a journalist turned drug-runner, and you've got something completely and utterly unique. This is undoubtedly one of the best screenplays of the decade, but it's also one of the best films.

23. Undertow (2004)
-directed by David Gordon Green
Before he was making stoner comedies like Pineapple Express, David Gordon Green was a real film-maker. Not just a film-maker: an artist. In Undertow, Green reaches the zenith of his creative talent, bringing a perfect storm of story, actors, and style to create a film unlike any other. Green's style is often described as 'Southern Gothic,' but I prefer Southern Surrealism, in that his films take place in the deep south, and watching them feels like walking through a dream. On the surface, Undertow is a chase movie about a pair of adolescents running from their blood-crazed uncle. To give a plot description, however, is to undersell the quiet, haunting nature of this little film. It's jam-packed with little moments of surreal beauty and oddness; very few films can get away with a long, involved monologue about chigger bites without seeming stupid. Undertow does it in spades.

22. Munich (2005)
-directed by Steven Spielberg
Munich is a bit of a Spielberg rarity in that it doesn't fit comfortably into either of his accepted personas: it's certainly not goofy or fun-filled, but it doesn't quite gel with his accepted dramatic style. Munich is a large, angry movie with lots of questions, but no answers. The plot recounts the events following the murder of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Olympics; namely, a 'counter-terrorism' unit whose principle goal is to eliminate enemies of Israel through bombs, murder, and other forms of subterfuge. Munich adroitly displays a never-ending cycle of violence, but has no easy answers for how to stop it. To augment the film's intellectual maturity, Spielberg brings the full brunt of his film-making experience, crafting a taut, engrossing thriller that never feels like its beating you over the head with its message.

21. 28 Days Later (2003)
-directed by Danny Boyle
Danny Boyle is one of the most visually interesting directors at work, and what strikes me most about 28 Days Later are the visuals. Has there ever been a more effective prologue than Cillian Murphy's long, solitary walk through a deserted London? The images Boyle captures are beautifully evocative: a taxi weaving through a city of the dead, a city on fire, framed by wind turbines, a rain-soaked castle filled with soldiers and women in red dresses. What's all the more impressive is that all this beauty comes in the midst of a graphically violent zombie movie. Boyle effortlessly meshes his more lyrical interludes with truly horrific encounters with the recently un-deceased. Throw in musing on the state of mankind (best exemplified during the final dinner, in which Christopher Eccleston's character says that all he sees is people killing people), and you've got something special, something far more worthwhile than Slumdog Millionaire, Boyle's best-known film.


I'll keep cranking these out later, then. Twenty more to go, and I figure, just for funsies, I'll do a decade-wide Oscar ballot, which is to say, my picks for the five best in every category this decade. Will the fun never end?

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Your Slice of Zen For the Day

"What are you asking? That we weigh the life of one man versus the future of mankind? Kill him."

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Dissecting Danny Boyle

Not literally, of course. Today, I'd like to take a good look at one of today's most interesting directors: you know him as the director of:

Slumdog Millionaire
Sunshine
Millions
28 Days Later...
The Beach
A Life Less Ordinary
Trainspotting
Shallow Grave

I'd like to think that enough of his films are iconic and well-seen enough for y'all to be able to follow along here, but you never know. For my part, I've seen all of them but A Life Less Ordinary and Shallow Grave, and I feel you can categorize them, quality-wise, in the following groups:

Out-and-out masterpieces, or as close as Boyle has gotten: 28 Days Later, Sunshine

Enjoyable, proficient, and (generally) good: Slumdog Millionaire, Trainspotting

Admirable Misfire: Millions

Just plain bad: The Beach

From what I hear, Shallow Grave finds itself in either the "enjoyable" or the "misfire" category, while A Life Less Ordinary drifts between "misfire" and "bad."

Danny Boyle's career has had a strange metamorphosis. With his debut film, Shallow Grave, Boyle earned accolades similar to Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs debut: some called it uneven, some called it a masterpiece, everyone agreed that this was a new director to watch. Boyle didn't disappoint with his follow-up, Trainspotting; though I may not love it as much as the next guy, the general consensus is that it's a modern masterpiece, and a classic of the new film movement. After having established himself as a competent director and an auteur of sorts, Danny Boyle then chose to throw it all away. His next two projects, The Beach and A Life Less Ordinary were large, messy studio productions, obviously aiming to please the most middling denominator. From here, Boyle learned his lesson: his next films, instead of attempting to be all things to all people, became very small, specific riffs on genre. He reinvented zombie horror with 28 Days Later, then mish-mashed inspirational family films with religious satire in Millions, had the gall to attempt "hard" science fiction in a post-2001 universe with Sunshine, and then took on the rags-to-riches tale with Slumdog Millionaire. Boyle has obviously hit his stride with this new career renaissance: one can only assume that he will continue his string of successes.

I find this Danny Boyle quote to be quite indicative of his style:
"...I like films that have a kind of vivacity to them. At this time of year you think about awards, and if you want to win one, you think you should make serious films, but my instinct is to make vivacious films." If there's one word to describe Boyle's films, it's vivacious. No director today makes use of such hyper-kinetic camera blocking. I don't mean this in a derogatory sense. Boyle is always supremely in control of his art, allowing the motion of the camera to enhance the motion of the film, all while knowing when to pause for breath and make use of uninterrupted takes and long shots. Most writers would hold up Slumdog Millionaire as the seminal example of Boyle's visual style, but I must dissent and suggest 28 Days Later instead. Slumdog is, indeed, full of motion and energy, but 28 Days Later has a propensity for tranquility that can be found liberally in Boyle's other films (most notably Sunshine and Millions) that is, on the whole, missing from Slumdog.
Boyle's style is made memorable through its motion, but I'd like to take a moment to think about the color schemes and impressionistic touches. Sunshine has the most easily defined color scheme (hint: everything is either orange or black, with brief sojourns for green), no doubt due to its single location (...space). Notice Slumdog Millionaire, 28 Days Later, and Millions, however: Slumdog works mostly with shades of brown, orange and red, 28 Day Later is always muted, as if everything is lit by blue or gray shades, and Millions is open and friendly, full of primary colors, which is no doubt reflective of the worldview of its child protagonist. In my opinion, the color work is far more effective in creating and establishing a stylistic mood, regardless of the flashiness of the color-work.

Thematically, Danny Boyle is a bit more difficult to pin down. Here's another quote for you to ponder: "I want my films to be life-affirming...I want people to leave the cinema feeling that something's been confirmed for them about life." I can't say that he always succeeds: the false, happy ending tacked on to the end of The Beach did far more to lower my opinion of humanity than leaving the film blood-soaked and angry like it should have been. So it goes. I suppose, however, the point may not be in the end. Most of Boyle's films seemed singularly concerned with the audacity of the human spirit in the face of overwhelming adversity. Consider 28 Days Later: the end is not particularly inspiring. Focus instead, if you will, on the relationship between Frank and Hannah: a father who loves his daughter, doing his best to keep her safe. Or even Jim and Selena: despite everything happening around them, two people can fall in love and teach each other something about kindness. Now look at Sunshine: not the sunniest of endings (...I'm sorry, I had to) by any stretch of the imagination. What sticks out in my mind, however, is the selflessness shown by most of the crew. Sunshine plays for me like a parable for losing oneself in the drive to help the greater good, even at the expense of one's safety or one's life. And I certainly don't need to explain to you how Slumdog Millionaire relates to pushing on through adverse odds (seriously, does anyone think Jamal and Latika will actually work as a couple? At the end, after the dance, they walk out of the station, and I can't help but picturing Latika looking at Jamal and saying "...so what now?" After some sex and some very courageous shenanigans resulting in bringing about the destiny of two hungry stomachs and one very confused pizza, they're going to realize that the chase was far more interesting than the destination. Sorry, I digress). So, perhaps it is easy to define Boyle's main thematic conceit: his films concern the drive to move forward despite the desire to go back.

What's next for Danny Boyle? IMDB won't let me have a good look, but it seems his next project is called 127 Hours. I wish I could provide more details, but, as stated, IMDB tells me I'm not nearly important enough to look at its "in development" projects. Oh well. Some day, internet, some day. For now, however: what do you think of Danny Boyle? Worth all these wasted pixels or not? If you've seen some of his movies, go ahead and post your ranking of them in the comments. My ranking is as follows:
28 Days Later
Sunshine
Slumdog Millionaire
Trainspotting
Millions
The Beach

Where am I wrong?