Let's pretend that I posted something yesterday, and I'm off to a great start in my firestorm of content. Can we do that? I think we can do that.
20. Mystic River (2003)
-directed by Clint Eastwood
If nothing else, see Mystic River for its acting. Featuring an ensemble comprised of Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Marcia Gay Harden, Laura Linney, Kevin Bacon, Laurence Fishburn, Emmy Rossum, and supremely underrated young actor Tom Guiry, Mystic River could very well be the most well-acted film of the decade. Bring some tissues, though, as this movie is anything but cheery. The plot centers around three adults who were friends in their youth (played by Penn, Bacon, and Robbins): one day, one of the children is kidnapped and held for nefarious purposes (screw discretion: molestation). The film explores how that one event creates a maelstrom of chaos that tears through otherwise happy lives. The spark that ignites the forest fire comes when Penn's daughter is murdered on the same night that Robbins (the child-abuse victim) comes home with blood on his hands. I won't explain any further, so as to avoid spoilers, but, to quote my Twitter feed, "this shit's intense." Sean Penn and Tim Robbins receive most of the acting accolades, and rightly so, but one of the stand-outs for me was young Tom Guiry, who plays the murder victim's boyfriend, who becomes the first suspect. The scene in which he finds out about his girlfriend's death, and confesses that he was going to marry her, is utterly heartbreaking. Hell, this whole movie is. Doesn't mean it's not a great movie, though.
19. WALL-E (2008)
-directed by Andrew Stanton
Sometimes, the simplest concepts are the most difficult to execute, the easiest to screw up, and the least attempted kind of film. Sometimes, though, the simplest concept is the best movie. WALL-E has a premise any child could, and does understand it: boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy and girl save the day. Who cares if the boy is a trash compactor and the girl is a glorified iPod? These are the movies, dammit. WALL-E has to be one of the bravest films in recent memory, in that it refrains from dialogue for almost half of the film. This, especially coming from a purported 'children's movie,' is astounding. Too often, movies attempt to cover up lack of content with quick editing, or an overload of content, or a frenetic pace. WALL-E is quiet, controlled, and methodical; it has enough faith in its material to sell itself. The film has plenty of time for small moments of sublime beauty: WALL-E and EVE watching the sun set over burning oil tankers, WALL-E trailing his hand through a planet's ice-ring, and, of course, the 'define dancing' scene, in which the two heroes simply move through space to music. It all sounds so very elementary, but it creates moments of pure magic. That the rest of the film is spectacular doesn't hurt, either: WALL-E looks better than any animated movie I've ever seen, no doubt partly because of cinematographer Roger Deakins' (aka God's) help with the film's look. The design, as well, is utterly engrossing. Every frame of WALL-E has something inventive, creative, beautiful, and worth seeing. And you know what? The film works wonderfully on an emotional level. The plight of WALL-E and EVE moved me far more than any of their more serious, live-action counterparts of 2008. Jamal and Latika can suck it. Benjamin and Daisy can go cry to their mothers. I don't even want to get started on Frost and Nixon. My heart belonged to a little trash compactor and his iPod.
18. Before Sunset (2004)
-directed by Richard Linklater
This recommendation comes with one corollary: to fully appreciate Before Sunset, you must first see its 90s predecessor, Before Sunrise. With its companion piece, Before Sunset reveals itself to be one of the most intelligent, bittersweet treatises on young love, failed expectations, and the slow acceptance of reality ever made. In the first film, Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy), spend one night together in Vienna. They're young, they're in love, and they think that doing such pedestrian things as exchanging numbers or contact information will dim the passion of their experience. Instead, they agree to meet again in Vienna in exactly six months time. In Before Sunset, Jesse and Celine meet at a book store in Paris, ten years later. The entire film consists of them walking around in real time, having a conversation. But my God, it's a conversation worth hearing. They start simply: catching up on each other's lives, finding out what kind of person they've each become, but all too soon, the bare threads of their lives begin to show, and they confess that the lives they've led aren't the lives they wanted to lead. Restrained, slightly sad, and more than a little autobiographical, Before Sunset perfectly captures the way that reality slowly takes the place of dreams, until the dreams are forgotten and the reality is set in stone. It's almost impossible to describe this film and do it justice: Watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. Together, they're hardly longer than the second Transformers movie, and they are much, much more worth your time.
17. The Departed (2006)
-directed by Martin Scorsese
The Departed is all kinetic energy. Despite its run-time of over two hours, The Departed chases, jumps, turns, dashes, and fights through to the end, attacking the viewer like a whirlwind. Scorsese is one of the most gifted working directors, and, for The Departed, he leaves everything he has at the altar of cinema. This film's complicated web of plot threads, involving lies, deceptions, and hidden identities, is easily navigated, thanks to a literate, concise script, a sure directorial and editing hand, and virtuoso performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon. The movie is jam-packed with memorable sequences: the chase to the roof-top, fueled by mistaken identities and ended in a moment of sudden violence, the shoot-out in the warehouse, and, of course, the blood-soaked finale, which will simply blow your mind (for readers who've seen the movie, I really do apologize for such an aggressive pun).
16. The Hurt Locker (2009)
-directed by Kathryn Bigelow
How does she get away with it? Kathryn Bigelow has created a movie that just seems to ooze contradictions, but somehow, improbably, it all works. The film is so quiet in its issues that some have labeled it completely apolitical, yet it's almost impossible to walk out of this film without understanding what it was trying to convey. It's a film of staggering dramatic impact, but seems to be based entirely on action sequences. The movie has little to no plot: it's a string of vignettes that happen to the same characters, yet it feels like it's telling one hell of a story. How does it all work? Maybe it's the talent involved: Kathryn Bigelow is nothing short of a genius, and brings an uncompromising artistic sensibility to the movie. It could be the acting: Jeremy Renner delivers one of the best performances of 2009, as do Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty in supporting roles. Perhaps it's the cinematography of Barry Ackroyd, which is beautiful while appearing pedestrian (yet another contradiction), and the editing of Bob Murawski and Chris Innis, which is laser-focused and intense. I don't know. It's probably all of these things. The Hurt Locker gathers a bevy of disparaging elements and fuses them into something elementally profound, pulse-pounding, and moving.
15. Hotel Rwanda (2004)
-directed by Terry George
Dramatizing a genocide isn't easy. There's something about the murder of millions that just seems...hard to bring to the screen convincingly. Maybe it's the fact that crimes occurring on a scale so large are almost impossible to fathom; that any attempts at drama will be met with skepticism. Hotel Rwanda manages the subject with dignity and grace. I think much of its success comes from the decision to compartmentalize and reduce the scale of the events portrayed: director Terry George uses the events happening at the Milles Collines hotel to represent the event as a whole. Amazingly, it works. We almost never leave the confines of the hotel, yet are given a clear, resonant picture of the chaos that happens outside its walls. Indeed, setting the film at the Milles Collines has an ancillary benefit: as the story is ultimately one of hope, its body count is relatively low. To create a more graphic representation of the Rwandan genocide would have been too much for most viewers. Luckily for us, the story is one of hope and redemption. If every death is a tragedy, than every life saved is a miracle. Hotel Rwanda is in the business of miracles, and, after watching the film, it's hard not to feel like you got your money's worth of miracles.
14. Moulin Rouge! (2001)
-directed by Baz Luhrmann
I really don't know how to approach this film objectively. This was one of the keystone movies of my adolescence, in that I watched it early, loved it, and watched it again and again. There's something in the pulsing energy, the frenetic but not chaotic pitch, the perfect balance of sublime silliness and melodrama-level tragedy, that just draws me in. And why shouldn't it? Moulin Rouge! is a spectacularly well-made film: everything looks great, everything works great. The music numbers are inspired, the performances are pitch-perfect, and the story is, if not dazzlingly original, dazzling in its execution. And you know what? This movie is just plain fun. Not all of it, admittedly, but the parts that go for levity pay off wonderfully. The movie is compelling drama: though I've since moved past such a phase, my sister still cries every time she watches it, even though she's seen it more times than is possible to count with all her fingers and toes. Moulin Rouge! is a bit silly, but it knows that, it embraces that, and it uses that to its advantage. The film's heart is in exactly the right place: it breathes beauty, freedom, truth, and love, and encourages all viewers to do the same.
13. Synecdoche, New York (2008)
-directed by Charlie Kaufman
Here's a misunderstood masterpiece if there ever was one. On its release, Synecdoche, New York was dismissed as thick, difficult, and nearly incomprehensible. Only Roger Ebert stood on its side, and recently christened it the best film of the decade in his version of the list I'm transcribing now. Well, to put it simply: Roger Ebert is right, the other critics are stupid. End of story. Now, I'm not saying that Synecdoche, New York is easy: I've seen it at least six times since its release, and I'll be damned if I can tell you what actually happens in the movie. On the surface, it tells the story of theater director Caden Cotard, who attempts to stage a play encompassing the entirety of the human experience. I'm not even going to attempt to describe what happens from there, but, honestly, it's irrelevant. It doesn't matter. The whole is less relevant than the sum of its parts. Each scene is beautifully crafted, well acted, and, above all, exquisitely written. I honestly think this could be the greatest screenplay ever written. Writer/director Charlie Kaufman imbues his scenes with such tenderness, such insight, that they become poetry. The last monologue of the film deserves to be recognized as a genuine piece of literature, and treated as such. Who cares if everyone who watches this film doesn't understand every part of it? There's something worthwhile here for everyone; more than something. Lots of things. Synecdoche, New York is an abyss which, if one stares long enough, will begin to stare back.
12. Waltz With Bashir (2008)
-directed by Ari Folman
For me, Waltz With Bashir is the cinematic equivalent of a sucker punch to the stomach. No, more than that: it's being beaten by a baseball bat, it's being obliterated by a locomotive. It's having your soul sucked out through your teeth. Sounds fun, right? Waltz With Bashir is possibly the only film of its kind: it's an animated documentary that uses a macabre, surrealist lens to make sense of a massacre. The visuals are astounding. From the opening moment, in which a wild dog charges down the street, to the closing shot, in which the viewer's animation safety net has been brutally substituted for live action, Waltz With Bashir provides an endless parade of moments both horrifying and fascinating in their combination of unspeakable crimes and surreal beauty. The scene, roughly twenty minutes into the film, in which a young Ari Folman and his two friends in the war rise out of the sea to approach a screaming crowd, illuminated by flares, still sticks with me. I don't know how to describe this movie, visually speaking. It's completely unique. It's fascinating. It's unsettling. The whole film strikes an uncanny balance between interest and revulsion: through the unreal medium of animation, Waltz With Bashir strikes at the heart of how much can go wrong in a world fueled by the dark side of human nature.
11. Gosford Park (2001)
-directed by Robert Altman
Alright, it's time for a tempo change. Gosford Park isn't exactly a feel-good comedy, but it's much brighter than the past few entries. Even if it's a murder mystery. The point isn't the murder here: the point is the complex web of human interaction that takes place between the rich guests of a hunting party in 1930s England, the servants of its well-staffed house, and the flashpoints of conflict when the two socioeconomic worlds merge. Gosford Park is one of the most engaging, complex, witty, labyrinthine films I've seen in a long time. It's almost impossible to grasp the full implications of every action on first viewing, but even for the casual viewer there's many a gem to be found. The acting ensemble is both gigantic and talented: Maggie Smith, Helen Mirren, Clive Owen, Kelly MacDonald, Emily Watson, and Michael Gambon immediately stand out in my mind, but this could because their names are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. Gosford Park contains no bad performances, and almost no mediocre ones (sorry, Ryan Phillipe). The web of humanity that the script casts is almost impossibly interesting: I feel like I could watch this movie every day for a year and find something new every time. Robert Altman, one of America's great directors, shepherds his bemused herd of actors through the plot's twists and turns with wonderful dexterity. Watching Altman direct an ensemble like this is like watching a master pianist use the entire range of a grand piano.
Tune in...later (I'm not promising tomorrow this time. If not tomorrow, then Sunday, perhaps?) as I reveal the top 10 of the decade. Any predictions?
Showing posts with label the departed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the departed. Show all posts
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
81 Years of Oscar: Best Picture Winners
Hello all. So, the 82nd Academy Awards are less than a month away. This means that I'm probably thinking about Oscar more often than not. In an attempt to spread my love of these dubious awards of quality, as well as provide a crash-course in film history, I'll be spending the next month doing something of an Oscar Retrospective. Today, for your viewing pleasure, I'll be profiling the ten best and five worst picture winners (in my opinion, of course). Following, because I can, is a list of the Best Picture winners to refresh your memory. In bold are the films that I've seen.
(And I know you didn't ask, but this list is from memory. Because I'm that good.)
Slumdog Millionaire
No Country For Old Men
The Departed
Crash
Million Dollar Baby
The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
Chicago
A Beautiful Mind
Gladiator
American Beauty
Shakespeare in Love
Titanic
The English Patient
Braveheart
Forrest Gump
Schindler's List
Unforgiven
The Silence of the Lambs
Dances With Wolves
Driving Miss Daisy
Rain Man
The Last Emperor
Platoon
Out of Africa
Amadeus
Terms of Endearment
Gandhi
Chariots of Fire
Ordinary People
Kramer Vs. Kramer
The Deer Hunter
Annie Hall
Rocky
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
The Godfather Part 2
The Sting
The Godfather
The French Connection
Patton
Midnight Cowboy
Oliver!
In the Heat of the Night
A Man For All Seasons
The Sound of Music
My Fair Lady
Tom Jones
Lawrence of Arabia
West Side Story
The Apartment
Ben-hur
Gigi
The Bridge on the River Kwai
Marty
On the Waterfront
From Here to Eternity
The Greatest Show on Earth
An American in Paris
All About Eve
All the King's Men
Hamlet
Gentlemen's Agreement
The Best Years of Our Lives
The Lost Weekend
Going My Way
Casablanca
Mrs. Miniver
How Green Was My Valley
Rebecca
Gone With the Wind
You Can't Take it With You
The Life of Emile Zola
The Great Zeigfeld
Mutiny on the Bounty
It Happened One Night
Cavalcade
Grand Hotel
Cimmaron
All Quiet on the Western Front
The Broadway Melody
Wings
As you've surely deciphered by now, these lists will be highly subjective, as I've only seen about half of these. They will also obviously skew toward more modern fare, as the half I've seen errs toward the present (my viewing is particularly shabby in the 40s, which begins with All the King's Men and ends with Rebecca; I've only seen one). Also bear in mind that this is more my list of favorites than anything else: I'm not going with the boldest decisions, or the most atypical; I'm going with the ones I like the best. We can debate greatness another time.
The Best
10. Titanic (1997. Other nominees: As Good as it Gets, The Full Monty, Good Will Hunting, LA Confidential)
I'll start with the most controversial choice right now so we can get it out of our hair. No, Titanic is not a great film. No, James Cameron is not an inspired auteur. What Titanic accomplishes, however, is pure cinema. Cameron lays his hand on the same lightning rod that Selznick, Cooper, and Fields all found to create old-fashioned, decidedly epic film. This is the one bone that escapism gets on my list: Titanic isn't concerned with being overly thought-provoking, or introducing new ideas. No, the film is slavishly devoted to delivering an experience, and it doesn't fail on those terms.
9. Shakespeare in Love (1998. Other Nominees: Elizabeth, Life is Beautiful, Saving Private Ryan, The Thin Red Line)
It might not be the best of the nominees, and it sure as hell caught crap for defeating Steven Spielberg's WW2 epic, but something about this little romance grips me in a way, I suspect, it gripped Academy voters. John Madden's only film of interest, Shakespeare in Love is a pitch-perfect combo of humor, intrigue, and emotional honesty. The film's effect is no doubt increased through the charismatic turns of Gwyneth Platrow, Joseph Fiennes, Judi Dench, and Geoffrey Rush, and the score remains one of the most by-turns whimsical and melancholy pieces of music written for film in recent years. Shakespeare in Love may feel like a light-weight, but it's got one hell of a punch.
8. No Country For Old Men (2007. Other nominees: Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton, There Will Be Blood)
I'm honestly still confused about how this film walked away with the big prize. Sure, it was unanimously acclaimed, and is a staggering piece of work, but it's so...dark. Nihilistic. Graphic. The Academy normally loves something safe, warm, and mildly inspiring. No Country For Old Men is none of these things. I'm glad the Academy decided to head way out on a limb and reward a film outside their comfort zone. No Country For Old Men is easily one of the best films of the new millennium. As this is a favorite, not greatest, list, however, it's relegated to the 8th spot.
7. The Departed (2006. Other nominees: Babel, Letters from Iwo Jima, Little Miss Sunshine, The Queen)
Here's another atypical work. I can understand how The Departed won, however: though gritty and profane, it plays safely within an Oscar-loved genre (the gangster picture), and was helmed by modern directing legend Martin Scorcese. To try and understand the politics, however, is to undersell Scorcese's best film since GoodFellas. The Departed is vibrant, tense, and altogether thrilling, anchored by stellar performances from its youthful leads: Leonardo Dicaprio, Matt Damon, and Vera Farmiga. Add an outstanding ensemble (Jack Nicholson, Ray Winstone, Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, so on and so forth), and the editing genius of Thelma Schoonmaker, and you have a completely unique, fantastic film.
6. It Happened One Night (1934. Other nominees: Cleopatra, Flirtation Walk, Here Comes the Navy, Imitation of Life, One Night of Love, The Barretts of Wimpole Street, The Gay Divorcee, The House of Rothchild, The Thin Man, The White Parade, Viva Villa)
Admittedly, I've hardly even heard of any of the other nominees, much less seen them, so I can't intelligently comment on the worthiness of It Happened One Night as compared to its fellow nominees. What I can do is attempt to share the 100 CCs of joy that were injected straight into my veins whilst watching this film. The original cliche, It Happened One Night is arguably the first romantic comedy. It is also, arguably, the best. Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable practically invented the concept of screen chemistry while filming, and the script, despite being 76 years old, never fails to feel timelessly modern.
5. The Godfather (1972. Other nominees: Cabaret, Deliverance, Sounder, Utvandrarna)
If we were listing the greatest Picture winners, The Godfather would be even higher on the list. Francis Ford Coppola's signature piece is still the crowning achievement of cinema in the 70s; the world of Don Corleone is incredibly complicated, vividly realized, and endlessly engrossing. Containing one of the most indelible screen performances (Marlon Brando, of course), some of the most shocking screen violence seen in its time, and one of the most memorable endings in film history, The Godfather is richly deserving of all the accolades it receives.
4. Amadeus (1984. Other nominees: The Killing Fields, A Passage to India, Places in the Heart, A Soldier's Story)
I might be a little biased here. I love Mozart. Needless to say, a film concerned entirely with the life and death of the famous composer is bound to play my heartstrings (pun intended) quite a bit. That doesn't change the fact that the film is amazing. Milos Forman breathes joyous life into the dull, dusty public image of Mozart, warping him into a foppish, ridiculous young man for whom genius isn't a burden so much as an amusing inconvenience. F. Murray Abraham, as his rival Salieri, provides the perfect ballast to Mozart's raucous vivacity: Salieri acts as if every moment is an exercise in tragic dignity. The performances, as well as the film itself, pulse with an unrestrained joy of a kind seldom seen in theaters.
3. The Silence of the Lambs (1991. Other nominees: Beauty and the Beast, Bugsy, JFK, The Prince of Tides)
The Silence of the Lambs is not the Academy's cup of tea: it remains the only horror film to win the big award (indeed, one of only two nominees for the genre). The Academy found the film impossible to ignore, however, and with good reason. Containing what might be the most electric leading couple to grace the silver screen (Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins), as well as one of the most intelligent, surgically horrific screenplay in recent memory, Lambs proves a difficult film to shake. After rewarding this film, the Academy, in its infinite wisdom, would spend most of the 90s rewarding large, inspirational, contrived films.
2. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930. Other nominees: The Big House, Disraeli, The Divorcee, The Love Parade)
Needless to say, I haven't seen any of the other nominees. Doesn't matter. All Quiet on the Western Front is, arguably, the only true anti-war film ever made (at least to play within the war genre), and, as such, is also, arguably, the greatest war film ever made. The movie juxtaposes lengthy sections of waiting, wondering, and worrying with spans of almost sadistic battle scenes. All Quiet...allows us to become attached to a classroom full of impressionable young men, then forces us to watch as it horrifically maims and murders them. This film is one of the most pessimistic and cynical of any I've seen: completely fitting, given its subject matter.
1. American Beauty (1999. Other nominees: The Cider House Rules, The Green Mile, The Insider, The Sixth Sense)
I debated for a while about whether or not my longtime favorite should cede this spot to All Quiet on the Western Front, but, in the end, I had to vote with my heart. And, as stated before, this is a list of favorites. I honestly don't know what else to write about this movie that I haven't written recently. Suffice to say it's got a lot of heart, and hits a lot of people, including me, in all the right places. Thank God the Oscar didn't go to The Cider House Rules.
Now, a tougher list. The five worst. No, let me rephrase that: these aren't the five worst films. They're the five that disappointed me the most. The five that let me down. The five that should have become close friends, but ended up stabbing me in the back. I highly doubt these would find themselves in a Five Worst list had I seen all the winners. See, I tend to avoid films that I hear are terrible, and, as such, have avoided the worst best picture winners.
5. Crash (2005. Other nominees: Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich)
Crash is a skillful manipulator, but little more. I'll admit that there good acting lurks around the edges (particularly Matt Dillon, Michael Pena, and Don Cheadle), and the film contains some truly affecting moments. When viewed with an objective eye, however, Crash can't escape the creakiness of its own screenplay, which relies on contrived coincidence.
4. Braveheart (1995. Other nominees: Apollo 13, Babe, The Postman, Sense and Sensibility)
Braveheart is very big, and very pretty, and somewhat inspirational. It's also incredibly sophomoric, filled with toilet humor and homophobia, and is helmed by a painfully ham-handed director. Braveheart is enjoyable enough. But a good film? Please. Like I said: pretty, exciting, big. Also crude, intolerant, and stupid. And not inventive enough to be forgiven for any of its sins.
3. Terms of Endearment (1983. Other nominees: The Big Chill, The Dresser, The Right Stuff, Tender Mercies)
This movie plays like a daytime soap opera. We have star-crossed lovers, worrying mothers, terminal illness, cute kids, and every other Movie-of-the-Week cliche worth its salt. None of elements every congeal into anything compelling, however, despite the noble efforts of Debra Winger and Shirley Maclaine. Jack Nicholson does nothing to help, either: his normal 'Crazy Jack' schtick feels grotesquely out of place.
2. Forrest Gump (1994. Other nominees: Four Weddings and A Funeral, Pulp Fiction, Quiz Show, The Shawshank Redemption)
I know I'm going to catch some heat for this, as most if not all of my regular reader love this movie, but I'm going there anyway. Forrest Gump is the Academy at its most conservative. The film itself is safe, conservative, almost condescending. I know I'm a pretentious film dick, but I tend to prefer new, or original, or daring in some way. Forrest Gump is as safe as it gets. I'm not saying it's a terrible film. It's just the kind of movie I'll never enjoy.
1. A Beautiful Mind (2001. Other nominees: Gosford Park, In the Bedroom, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Moulin Rouge!)
I will say that this one is a terrible film, though. Director Ron Howard is the master of faux-inspirational, historical garbage, and this is the creative nadir of his not-so-illustrious career. The fact that this film won is downright offensive. A Beautiful Mind's success is the best proof that sometimes, the Academy just doesn't care about quality.
Well, there you have it. Sorry, long post. I know. I got carried away. If anyone's still reading, what do you think? Am I being too hard on some films, and too easy on others? Willing to show me how wrong I am about Forrest Gump? I'll never learn if someone doesn't try to teach me.
(And I know you didn't ask, but this list is from memory. Because I'm that good.)
Slumdog Millionaire
No Country For Old Men
The Departed
Crash
Million Dollar Baby
The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
Chicago
A Beautiful Mind
Gladiator
American Beauty
Shakespeare in Love
Titanic
The English Patient
Braveheart
Forrest Gump
Schindler's List
Unforgiven
The Silence of the Lambs
Dances With Wolves
Driving Miss Daisy
Rain Man
The Last Emperor
Platoon
Out of Africa
Amadeus
Terms of Endearment
Gandhi
Chariots of Fire
Ordinary People
Kramer Vs. Kramer
The Deer Hunter
Annie Hall
Rocky
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
The Godfather Part 2
The Sting
The Godfather
The French Connection
Patton
Midnight Cowboy
Oliver!
In the Heat of the Night
A Man For All Seasons
The Sound of Music
My Fair Lady
Tom Jones
Lawrence of Arabia
West Side Story
The Apartment
Ben-hur
Gigi
The Bridge on the River Kwai
Marty
On the Waterfront
From Here to Eternity
The Greatest Show on Earth
An American in Paris
All About Eve
All the King's Men
Hamlet
Gentlemen's Agreement
The Best Years of Our Lives
The Lost Weekend
Going My Way
Casablanca
Mrs. Miniver
How Green Was My Valley
Rebecca
Gone With the Wind
You Can't Take it With You
The Life of Emile Zola
The Great Zeigfeld
Mutiny on the Bounty
It Happened One Night
Cavalcade
Grand Hotel
Cimmaron
All Quiet on the Western Front
The Broadway Melody
Wings
As you've surely deciphered by now, these lists will be highly subjective, as I've only seen about half of these. They will also obviously skew toward more modern fare, as the half I've seen errs toward the present (my viewing is particularly shabby in the 40s, which begins with All the King's Men and ends with Rebecca; I've only seen one). Also bear in mind that this is more my list of favorites than anything else: I'm not going with the boldest decisions, or the most atypical; I'm going with the ones I like the best. We can debate greatness another time.
The Best
10. Titanic (1997. Other nominees: As Good as it Gets, The Full Monty, Good Will Hunting, LA Confidential)
I'll start with the most controversial choice right now so we can get it out of our hair. No, Titanic is not a great film. No, James Cameron is not an inspired auteur. What Titanic accomplishes, however, is pure cinema. Cameron lays his hand on the same lightning rod that Selznick, Cooper, and Fields all found to create old-fashioned, decidedly epic film. This is the one bone that escapism gets on my list: Titanic isn't concerned with being overly thought-provoking, or introducing new ideas. No, the film is slavishly devoted to delivering an experience, and it doesn't fail on those terms.
9. Shakespeare in Love (1998. Other Nominees: Elizabeth, Life is Beautiful, Saving Private Ryan, The Thin Red Line)
It might not be the best of the nominees, and it sure as hell caught crap for defeating Steven Spielberg's WW2 epic, but something about this little romance grips me in a way, I suspect, it gripped Academy voters. John Madden's only film of interest, Shakespeare in Love is a pitch-perfect combo of humor, intrigue, and emotional honesty. The film's effect is no doubt increased through the charismatic turns of Gwyneth Platrow, Joseph Fiennes, Judi Dench, and Geoffrey Rush, and the score remains one of the most by-turns whimsical and melancholy pieces of music written for film in recent years. Shakespeare in Love may feel like a light-weight, but it's got one hell of a punch.
8. No Country For Old Men (2007. Other nominees: Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton, There Will Be Blood)
I'm honestly still confused about how this film walked away with the big prize. Sure, it was unanimously acclaimed, and is a staggering piece of work, but it's so...dark. Nihilistic. Graphic. The Academy normally loves something safe, warm, and mildly inspiring. No Country For Old Men is none of these things. I'm glad the Academy decided to head way out on a limb and reward a film outside their comfort zone. No Country For Old Men is easily one of the best films of the new millennium. As this is a favorite, not greatest, list, however, it's relegated to the 8th spot.
7. The Departed (2006. Other nominees: Babel, Letters from Iwo Jima, Little Miss Sunshine, The Queen)
Here's another atypical work. I can understand how The Departed won, however: though gritty and profane, it plays safely within an Oscar-loved genre (the gangster picture), and was helmed by modern directing legend Martin Scorcese. To try and understand the politics, however, is to undersell Scorcese's best film since GoodFellas. The Departed is vibrant, tense, and altogether thrilling, anchored by stellar performances from its youthful leads: Leonardo Dicaprio, Matt Damon, and Vera Farmiga. Add an outstanding ensemble (Jack Nicholson, Ray Winstone, Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, so on and so forth), and the editing genius of Thelma Schoonmaker, and you have a completely unique, fantastic film.
6. It Happened One Night (1934. Other nominees: Cleopatra, Flirtation Walk, Here Comes the Navy, Imitation of Life, One Night of Love, The Barretts of Wimpole Street, The Gay Divorcee, The House of Rothchild, The Thin Man, The White Parade, Viva Villa)
Admittedly, I've hardly even heard of any of the other nominees, much less seen them, so I can't intelligently comment on the worthiness of It Happened One Night as compared to its fellow nominees. What I can do is attempt to share the 100 CCs of joy that were injected straight into my veins whilst watching this film. The original cliche, It Happened One Night is arguably the first romantic comedy. It is also, arguably, the best. Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable practically invented the concept of screen chemistry while filming, and the script, despite being 76 years old, never fails to feel timelessly modern.
5. The Godfather (1972. Other nominees: Cabaret, Deliverance, Sounder, Utvandrarna)
If we were listing the greatest Picture winners, The Godfather would be even higher on the list. Francis Ford Coppola's signature piece is still the crowning achievement of cinema in the 70s; the world of Don Corleone is incredibly complicated, vividly realized, and endlessly engrossing. Containing one of the most indelible screen performances (Marlon Brando, of course), some of the most shocking screen violence seen in its time, and one of the most memorable endings in film history, The Godfather is richly deserving of all the accolades it receives.
4. Amadeus (1984. Other nominees: The Killing Fields, A Passage to India, Places in the Heart, A Soldier's Story)
I might be a little biased here. I love Mozart. Needless to say, a film concerned entirely with the life and death of the famous composer is bound to play my heartstrings (pun intended) quite a bit. That doesn't change the fact that the film is amazing. Milos Forman breathes joyous life into the dull, dusty public image of Mozart, warping him into a foppish, ridiculous young man for whom genius isn't a burden so much as an amusing inconvenience. F. Murray Abraham, as his rival Salieri, provides the perfect ballast to Mozart's raucous vivacity: Salieri acts as if every moment is an exercise in tragic dignity. The performances, as well as the film itself, pulse with an unrestrained joy of a kind seldom seen in theaters.
3. The Silence of the Lambs (1991. Other nominees: Beauty and the Beast, Bugsy, JFK, The Prince of Tides)
The Silence of the Lambs is not the Academy's cup of tea: it remains the only horror film to win the big award (indeed, one of only two nominees for the genre). The Academy found the film impossible to ignore, however, and with good reason. Containing what might be the most electric leading couple to grace the silver screen (Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins), as well as one of the most intelligent, surgically horrific screenplay in recent memory, Lambs proves a difficult film to shake. After rewarding this film, the Academy, in its infinite wisdom, would spend most of the 90s rewarding large, inspirational, contrived films.
2. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930. Other nominees: The Big House, Disraeli, The Divorcee, The Love Parade)
Needless to say, I haven't seen any of the other nominees. Doesn't matter. All Quiet on the Western Front is, arguably, the only true anti-war film ever made (at least to play within the war genre), and, as such, is also, arguably, the greatest war film ever made. The movie juxtaposes lengthy sections of waiting, wondering, and worrying with spans of almost sadistic battle scenes. All Quiet...allows us to become attached to a classroom full of impressionable young men, then forces us to watch as it horrifically maims and murders them. This film is one of the most pessimistic and cynical of any I've seen: completely fitting, given its subject matter.
1. American Beauty (1999. Other nominees: The Cider House Rules, The Green Mile, The Insider, The Sixth Sense)
I debated for a while about whether or not my longtime favorite should cede this spot to All Quiet on the Western Front, but, in the end, I had to vote with my heart. And, as stated before, this is a list of favorites. I honestly don't know what else to write about this movie that I haven't written recently. Suffice to say it's got a lot of heart, and hits a lot of people, including me, in all the right places. Thank God the Oscar didn't go to The Cider House Rules.
Now, a tougher list. The five worst. No, let me rephrase that: these aren't the five worst films. They're the five that disappointed me the most. The five that let me down. The five that should have become close friends, but ended up stabbing me in the back. I highly doubt these would find themselves in a Five Worst list had I seen all the winners. See, I tend to avoid films that I hear are terrible, and, as such, have avoided the worst best picture winners.
5. Crash (2005. Other nominees: Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich)
Crash is a skillful manipulator, but little more. I'll admit that there good acting lurks around the edges (particularly Matt Dillon, Michael Pena, and Don Cheadle), and the film contains some truly affecting moments. When viewed with an objective eye, however, Crash can't escape the creakiness of its own screenplay, which relies on contrived coincidence.
4. Braveheart (1995. Other nominees: Apollo 13, Babe, The Postman, Sense and Sensibility)
Braveheart is very big, and very pretty, and somewhat inspirational. It's also incredibly sophomoric, filled with toilet humor and homophobia, and is helmed by a painfully ham-handed director. Braveheart is enjoyable enough. But a good film? Please. Like I said: pretty, exciting, big. Also crude, intolerant, and stupid. And not inventive enough to be forgiven for any of its sins.
3. Terms of Endearment (1983. Other nominees: The Big Chill, The Dresser, The Right Stuff, Tender Mercies)
This movie plays like a daytime soap opera. We have star-crossed lovers, worrying mothers, terminal illness, cute kids, and every other Movie-of-the-Week cliche worth its salt. None of elements every congeal into anything compelling, however, despite the noble efforts of Debra Winger and Shirley Maclaine. Jack Nicholson does nothing to help, either: his normal 'Crazy Jack' schtick feels grotesquely out of place.
2. Forrest Gump (1994. Other nominees: Four Weddings and A Funeral, Pulp Fiction, Quiz Show, The Shawshank Redemption)
I know I'm going to catch some heat for this, as most if not all of my regular reader love this movie, but I'm going there anyway. Forrest Gump is the Academy at its most conservative. The film itself is safe, conservative, almost condescending. I know I'm a pretentious film dick, but I tend to prefer new, or original, or daring in some way. Forrest Gump is as safe as it gets. I'm not saying it's a terrible film. It's just the kind of movie I'll never enjoy.
1. A Beautiful Mind (2001. Other nominees: Gosford Park, In the Bedroom, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Moulin Rouge!)
I will say that this one is a terrible film, though. Director Ron Howard is the master of faux-inspirational, historical garbage, and this is the creative nadir of his not-so-illustrious career. The fact that this film won is downright offensive. A Beautiful Mind's success is the best proof that sometimes, the Academy just doesn't care about quality.
Well, there you have it. Sorry, long post. I know. I got carried away. If anyone's still reading, what do you think? Am I being too hard on some films, and too easy on others? Willing to show me how wrong I am about Forrest Gump? I'll never learn if someone doesn't try to teach me.
Monday, December 14, 2009
A Decade of Oscar Winners: A Retrospective
This week, critics circles, guilds, and one group of drunken journalists all announce their nominees for various end-of-the-year awards. Suffice to say that, by Friday, we'll have a fairly clear picture of the Oscar race. I'll run a piece on that later this week, but for now, I'd like to just look back at the Academy.
And how often they screw things up.
Seriously. Rarely does Best Picture go to the actual best film of the year. Too often, the process becomes mired in politics, playing nice, buying votes, and scheduling woes. Which isn't to say that good movies can't win, of course. I'm just saying that the best films often don't. So, for your viewing pleasure, here are the best picture winners of the decade, along with the other nominees they built. I'll whine for a little about them (or compliment them, you never know), then offer up my own nominee slate. Fun times!
2008: Slumdog Millionaire
Other nominees: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Frost/Nixon, Milk, The Reader
I'll be honest; none of these nominees get me too excited. Slumdog is definitely the best among them (though The Reader has some great moments, and, admittedly, I liked Benjamin Button), but that's not saying a whole lot. Slumdog won because it was exactly what our country needed at the time: something fast, loud, and oozing optimism. It perfectly tapped into the zeitgeist surrounding Obama's election. And there's nothing wrong with that. It's a perfectly competent film. There just happened to be a bevy of other, more challenging, more advanced films for consumption.
My nominees, in order of preference:
1. Waltz With Bashir
2. Synecdoche, New York
3. WALL-E
4. Let the Right One In
5. In Bruges
2007: No Country For Old Men
Other Nominees: Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton, There Will Be Blood
How fantastic: We're only two years in, and I can't find anything to complain about! 2007 was one of the best years for film in recent memory; it would have been almost impossible to not nominate five great films, and any of the nominees could be a worthy champion in any other year. Essentially, 2007 was awesome. Nothing more so than No Country For Old Men; a film that showed the Coens at the absolute top of their game. Adroitly paced, almost unbearably taut, lean, and full of dark, cynical insight, No Country wasn't just the best of the year: it's one of the best winners of the decade. And I can't even complain about the other nominees. All of them are of the honor.
My nominees:
1. No Country For Old Men
2. Sunshine
3. There Will Be Blood
4. Away From Her
5. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
2006: The Departed
Other Nominees: Babel, Letters From Iwo Jima, Little Miss Sunshine, The Queen
This is tough: I can't say I agree that The Departed was the best film of the year, but it sure came close. It's certainly the best of the nominated films (though all of those, with the exception of Babel, carry my complete and total approval). Indeed, it's hard to deny the energy and forward motion of The Departed. Plus, it's Martin Frigging Scorsese. The Departed is a fantastic entry into the Academy Canon.
My Nominees:
1. Children of Men
2. The Departed
3. Pan's Labyrinth
4. A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints
5. Letters From Iwo Jima
2005: Crash
Other Nominees: Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Goodnight and Good Luck, Munich
Ahhh. Crash. Crash. This. Was. A. Travesty. I'm not saying that Crash doesn't have powerful moments, and I'm not saying that Crash isn't a very skillful manipulator. But that's just it: the movie is great at manipulating the viewer into thinking they're seeing something good, when what they're actually seeing is ham-fisted, obvious, and subtle as a sledgehammer. How it won out over ANY of the other nominees (all fantastic films) as well as other not-nominated greats is almost unfathomable. But especially winning over Brokeback Mountain or, to a lesser degree, Munich. Both are modern masterpieces, and are many heads and shoulders above Crash. The Academy certainly dropped the ball on this one.
My Nominees:
1. Brokeback Mountain
2. Munich
3. A History of Violence
4. Capote
5. Junebug
2004: Million Dollar Baby
Other Nominees: The Aviator, Finding Neverland, Ray, Sideways
Here's another year where the slew of nominees did nothing for me. It's once again the case that the winner is the best of those offered, but it's not a hard accomplishment. The Aviator was technically proficient but dead inside, Finding Neverland was shallow ant smarmy, Ray was all about the lead performance, and Sideways, though loved by some, was found by this writer to be misogynistic, slow, and utterly pointless. Million Dollar Baby itself is minor Eastwood. It's not his best effort, but is better than his worst efforts. It's a movie-of-the-week. Watch it, feel sanctimonious, forget it. End of story.
My Nominees:
1. Kill Bill
2. Undertow
3. Hotel Rwanda
4. Before Sunset
5. The Incredibles
2003: The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
Other Nominees: Lost in Translation, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, Mystic River, Seabiscuit
I have trouble arguing with this one. As a stand-alone film, The Return of the King is strong, but not strong enough to win over the others. As a piece of a trilogy, and as a cinematic accomplishment, The Return of the King (and, really, The Lord of the Rings) is staggering work that's nearly impossible to ignore. And that's what the Academy did here: the Oscar wasn't for Return of the King. It was for The Lord of the Rings, and it's hard to compete with three films, even if the competition is as fantastic as the other nominees (with the notable exception of Seabiscuit, which made me try to eat my own tongue).
My Nominees:
1. Lost in Translation
2. City of God
3. Mystic River
4. 28 Days Later
5. Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
2002: Chicago
Other Nominees: Gangs of New York, The Hours, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Pianist
How the hell did Chicago walk away with this? I'll be the first to admit that Chicago is entertaining and well-made. But it's little else. There's nothing challenging or new about the film. It makes you smile for a couple of hours, then is promptly forgotten. Admittedly two of the other nominees were uneven efforts (Gangs of New York and The Two Towers), and the other two were too depressing and cerebral for most viewers, but that's no excuse. The Pianist or The Hours would both have made far more deserving winners than Chicago. And I haven't even mentioned all the films that weren't nominated that were better than Chicago. Geez.
My Nominees:
1. Y Tu Mama, Tambien
2. Minority Report
3. Adaptation
4. The Hours
5. Hable Con Ella
2001: A Beautiful Mind
Other Nominees: Gosford Park, In the Bedroom, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Moulin Rouge!
...I don't even want to talk to the Oscars right now. 2001 was a banner year for cinema, chock full of films that did new, bold things, played with content, form, style, films that revitalized dying genres, films that defied expectations, films with fascinating character studies, intense moments, and all general forms of greatness. And the winner was....A poorly made, slow-paced, shallow-minded biopic that has been seen 1,000 times before. Seriously, I think I saw A Beautiful Mind on Hallmark as a made-for-TV movie before it got a theatrical release. It's just embarrassing. All of the other nominees would have been incomparably better as winners than this perfect storm of idiocy. (Side note, but where the hell was Black Hawk Down when it came to voting time? How did it not make the cut?)
My Nominees:
1. Black Hawk Down
2. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
3. Gosford Park
4. Moulin Rouge!
5. Memento
2000: Gladiator
Other Nominees: Chocolat, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Erin Brokovich, Traffic
Not a strong start to the decade, really. 2000 had some great films. Not many of them can be found in the nominees listed above. Gladiator is large, loud, and well-made. A great film it is not. Though, I understand that, out of the nominees, it was the only plausible winner: Chocolat and Erin Brokovich were flukes, Traffic was too clinical, and The Academy will burn in Hell before they give their top prize to a foreign-language film. But see, the solution to this problem is not to choose the lesser of five evils: it's to nominate the good films in the first place. Oh well.
My Nominees:
1. Almost Famous
2. Billy Elliot
3. Requiem For a Dream
4. The Virgin Suicides
5. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
The 2000s: A fantastic decade for films. Not a fantastic decade for Academy Award winners. If I had to list the winners by my preference, it would be as follows:
1. The Departed
2. No Country For Old Men
3. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
4. Slumdog Millionaire
5. Gladiator
6. Million Dollar Baby
7. Chicago
8. Crash
9. A Beautiful Mind
Honestly, only the first two have my first three have my complete approval. The next two are good enough, and then it's all downhill from there. And what's going to join this not-so-awe-inspiring list in March? The Hurt Locker. Please, please let it be The Hurt Locker. Finish the decade with a bang (pun not intended). Or who knows. I have lots of big, 'prestige' films left to see this year. Maybe Avatar. Maybe Up in the Air. Just...something good, OK Academy?
What do you think? Am I being too hard on these winners? Are these nine films a collection of cinematic gems that will resonate throughout the ages? Let me know.
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